Page 32 of Blue Lines and Lullabies

Me: We can’t wait to watch our favorite hockey guy on the ice.

Gabe: Your favorite?

Me: Don’t tell Grant.

Gabe: Too late.

Grant: WHAT THE FUCK, CASSANDRA

Me: Oh, shut up. Like you’ve never picked a puck bunny over me before.

Grant: I’ve never picked a puck bunny over you.

Me: …

Grant: That’s probably a lie.

Me: It is. If you’d like, I bet I can go through my camera roll and find at least five examples of times you’ve made bad decisions with women.

Grant: Let’s not take that trip down memory lane.

Me: Probably wise.

Grant: So you and Daws. I never would have thought to pair you up, but honestly, I don’t know why. You’re kinda perfect for each other.

Me: Why?

Grant: You’re both homebodies. Probably more introverted than either of you realize. But I think you’re going to complement each other as well. You’ve always been a glass-half-full kind of girl, and he is more likely to see the glass as empty, or broken.

Me: Are you saying you think he’s broken?

Grant: No, not at all. He’s a realist. Your head can be stuck in the clouds. He might bring you back down to earth while you’ll show him how much fun dreaming can be.

Me: That was remarkably poetic, big brother.

Grant: I have my moments.

Grant: Hey, did you ever get in touch with Teagan?

Me: I left a message, but she didn’t call me back.

Grant: Damn. Okay. I guess she’ll reach out again if she really does need something.

I hate lying to my brother, but I saw how broken Teagan was, and I want to give her a little time to come up with a solution. It probably won’t do any good to tell him I’ve been in contact with Teagan, and I’m meeting her soon for lunch.

Gabe left me the cutest little set of noise-canceling infant headphones, and once I put those on Mackenzie, I can’t stop fawning over her. I snap one picture of her gummy grin in the ensemble and fire it off to Gabe before we leave our house. Wait. His house. It’s not mine. I guess it’s their house. What’s going to happen now? Am I dating Gabe? He’s called me his girl, but we haven’t clarified anything. If something happens that sours this — whatever this is — I better have a backup plan. I love my brother, but if I have to stay at his place again, I don’t think we’ll both survive.

Once Mackenzie is safely secured in her rear-facing car seat, we head to the arena in downtown Denver. Gabe gave me a special parking pass to park in the lot where the players and family park, right next to the arena, which is a significant relief. The thought of something terrible happening while I’m handling such precious cargo gives me a lot of anxiety.

Upon entering the arena, I immediately put the noise-canceling headphones on Mackenzie, as it’s already loud. A quick check of my phone tells me they’re still thirty minutes from the puck drop, but the energy in the arena is palpable. Gabe and Grant told me they think this is the best team they’ve had in quite some time, and they think it’s their year to win the Cup.

“Ms. McNally?” I hear and turn to find a kind older man smiling at me. “I’m Shepherd. Mr. Dawson asked me to help escort you and Miss Dawson to your seat. Is there anything you think you might need?”

“Uh, no? I thought I’d be in a suite or something, though.”

“Mr. Dawson wanted you to be by the ice for warmups and the beginning of the first period. Then he took it upon himself to set you up in a suite where some other wives and girlfriends like to watch the games.”

“Okay,” I mutter. As soon as we begin walking down the concrete steps to the first row — because, of course, Gabe would have us front and center — I see a line of Wolves waiting for our arrival. Well, probably not me. Mostly Mackenzie.

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