Page 32 of Brace and Chase

When I made my hasty retreat last night, I thought for a blissful second about getting on a plane and going to see my family and spending New Year’s Eve with them. I quickly changed my mind.

Logistically it would’ve been a nightmare, and my family never does anything big anyway.

So, since Michelle and Kelly—who are the only people I know in Vegas outside the Pirates organization—have plans to spend the night partying like it’s their last night on earth, and I have to be at the rink at ten in the morning, I decided to treat myself to my favorite meal.

Because sweets are what keeps life worth living, I also bought myself a red velvet cake from a bakery Ingrid recommended to me yesterday. It will go down perfectly after my cannelloni.

I get to work on the pasta first, then let it rest for a while before I do a final pass through the roller. The stuffing will be my Lala’s ragu, which is more tomatoey than the traditional one, and I get lost in the work.

Memories of cooking when I was little, with Lala and Yoyo, with Dad when he was still here, with my uncle Leo. .. they flood me as I focus intently on each step.

I might be cooking for one, but every time I make a family recipe I want to do it justice.

Every bite is a portal home, and I’m happy I remembered to take a picture when I got them out of the oven because as soon as I’m done with the cannelloni, my phone buzzes with a FaceTime call from Lala. I smirk at how much she loves that feature on her phone—and how often she cold calls people.

There’s no reining her in.

“Happy almost New Year, Lala,” I greet her, and smile and wave at the camera. She comes into view, and all the lines life has put on her face get deeper with her full smile.

That’s the most beautiful face in the world, I think to myself.

“Happy almost New Year, Carlo.” She calls me by her nickname for me, then sends me a kiss through the screen. I miss her painfully then, and I want nothing more than tofeel her arms hugging me like a vise. “Those cannelloni look perfect.” She cheers as she says it. “Like a true Italian master.”

Ridiculously, her compliments make me blush and look down. She always knows exactly what to say to put us in a good mood.

With every one of her five kids, nine grandkids, and three great-grandkids she has a special and unique bond.

“I learned from the best,” I tell her, once I’ve swallowed past the emotion-filled lump that was stuck in my throat. I have to get a grip on myself. I just saw them all less than a week ago. “What are y’all up to tonight?”

“Your grandfather conned me into making a lasagna?—”

“So you made three,” I finish for her with a smile. No one ever has to con her into cooking; she lives for it. She clicks her tongue at me, pretending I’m not right with a sniff.

“Yes, but only because he told everyone about it and now they’re all coming here in an hour or so.”

“So the quiet New Year’s isn’t happening?” I ask, though I knew it wasn’t even when he told me about her plan during Christmas lunch. She can’t resist having everyone over.

“It’s not, but Samuel and Harper asked if the kids could stay after dinner when everyone goes out to party at Quincy’s.” The only bar in town gets pretty rowdy on New Year’s I’m told, so I know they’ll have a great time. I’msurprised Sam is going, though. He usually spends the holiday in the city.

“They take you and your babysitting services for granted, Lala,” I tell her, indulging her.

She smiles softly, though, telling me she’s in a nostalgic mood today.

“I’m going to have a better time than they are,” she proclaims, and I don’t doubt it.

I talk to her only a little bit longer, then text the group chat the same picture I sent her and wish them all a great night.

I then spend the rest of the night thinking, thinking, and then thinking some more.

It’s all jumbled up in my head.

I of course have no idea why Nikolay hates me.

I have no clue what on God’s earth made Gab think that bringing me here—and keeping me here after we found out about Nikolay’s animosity toward me—was a good idea.

Now, I do know that the team holds Nikolay in the highest regard imaginable, and that everybody’s been keeping their distance for his benefit—which I have to respect. It surprised me last night when that realization came, because the image Nikolay has had all his career is that of a stone-faced hard-ass. I never imagined he’d be someone who could change an entire team’s mood by being silent, but that’s clearly what’s been happening.

After I saw the way people who aren’t on the team treated him last night—especially the way he interactedwith Sterling and little Ava—I know that my arrival to the team is the reason for our record.

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