Page 7 of Game Changer

“I won’t let the long-term sub position interfere with my plans to grow Sugar Rush.”

“You need a work/life balance.”

“You don’t say?” I tease.

Mom has been a nurse practitioner my whole life, and Dad an optometrist. They’ve worked forty-hour weeks since I can remember, and they seldom had the same day off, which I recently learned was because they didn’t want to leave me with a sitter when I was younger. When we moved to Blue Valley, they both found they hated the commute and found part-time jobs in their fields until they hated it enough that they both decided to embrace that they are part-owners of the Legacy Field complex and grounds that the New York Knights football team calls home. Just a few weeks ago, she and Dad took part-time volunteer work, which can best be explained as a doctor-without-borders type of group that serves those who make too much money to get free healthcare, don’t have employment that gives them healthcare, and can’t afford private insurance, or the so-called affordable healthcare the state provides.

“You two are busier now than when you were working full-time and raising us.”

“Busier in a different way. Things changed, and …” She shakes her head, stopping herself from returning to the place that made her lose faith in her profession when policy became more important than patients. I remember hearing her cry—no, sobbing—to my father, the words, “Why won’t they let us save them?” Those words will forever haunt me. “I love being a nurse, and I’m damn good at my job. Now I get to work with people who remember healthcare is one word. I work with my mom, sisters, and husband, and I get to do more in three- to four-hour shifts than I could in forty or fifty hours a week.” She nudges me with her hip. “And I get to learn your business, all under the pretext of helping out here when it’s really just to get more time with you.” She waves a soap-covered hand toward the four machines, all loaded with different candies and fruits. “And, of course, to test all the treats.”

When the bell jingles on the door, I reach up and push the pink curtain from the pass-through window open to the front of the store, and I see Liam walking in.

“Shoot,” I mumble, remembering I promised to test out the new dog food recipe he wanted to try for the veterinary clinic.

“You forget about me?” He chuckles.

“No? Yes? Sort of?” I laugh as I take the towel Mom is holding out for me to dry my hands off and head toward the machines. “These have thirty minutes left. I can switch?—”

“Don’t do that. I have thirty minutes.” Liam chuckles as he sets the bag of … whatever it is on the floor, gives me a quick hug, and heads to Mom to do the same. “Hey, Aunt Molly.”

“What a nice surprise.” She smiles as she hugs him. “You’re done with your residency and home now, I hear.”

He nods as he steps back, shrugs off his jacket, and laughs. “I can officially act as a therapist for animals.”

“And you’re making dog food?” she inquires.

“Testing some behavior theories on the basis of nutrition.” He nods as he pushes his sleeves up.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” She smiles, and then the bells jingle again.

“Must be happy hour here?” The corner of Liam’s lips twists up.

“Look, Mommy, it’s my friend Sydney. She’s a girl bossesses.”

I turn and see sweet little Lily Boone dragging a petite, stunning, older version of herself behind her—her mother. Lindsey, who I’d never spoken to before, only waved from a distance and smiled at me from across the crowd at a game or the brewery. She’s now here at Sugar Rush.

“I think they’re closed,” she informs Lily and gives me an apologetic smile as she holds out her hand. “I’m?—”

“Lindsey.” I shake her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you up close and personal.”

“Lindsey, as in Beau’s Lindsey?” Mom asks as she walks out of the kitchen area and into the storefront.

Lindsey laughs. “To be fair, I think we’re both Lily’s.”

“Yep,” Lily says, bouncing on her adorable little toes. “My mommy and daddy.” She holds out her pinkies like little weapons. “They say I got ’em wrapped around this.”

“Of course, you do.” I smile as I head to the cupcake display to find the perfect dessert. “We have your favorite—red,” I quickly correct myself, knowing that Lily asked for dark pink instead of red every time she comes in here, which has caused me to alter my recipe a bit, because I love how she reacts. I give her a wink. “I mean, pink velvet for you, of course, with pink frosting and rainbow glitter. And Ms. Lily, I even have one for Mom, too.”

Lily drops Lindsey’s hand and throws hers in the air. “Touchdown!”

She reaches her hand out to me, and I shake my head. “No way. I wanna see your touchdown dance first.”

She grins as she jumps up and twirls, grabs her imaginary lasso from her imaginary belt, whirls it above her head, and pretends to catch Lindsey. “Mommy, you gotta try to get loose.” She shakes her tiny hiney in a circle, showing her how.

“Now, why would I try to get loose when you got me all wrapped up already?” she asks, holding up her pinky and wiggling it.

“You two are adorable.” Mom holds her hand to her chest, her voice thick with emotion when she says, “Don’t blink, Lindsey, because the moment you do, this little beauty is going to be a young woman.”

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