Page 33 of Pucking the Grump

“No worries, it’s fine.” I pull one of Barb’s organic chicken treats from my pocket and hand it to Maddie. “Can you tell her to sit? Once she does, you can give her this treat and pet her if you want.” To her mother, I add in a softer voice, “She’s good with kids.”

As soon as her mom nods the go-ahead, Maddie takes the treat. “Barb, sit please,” she whispers. “Can you sit, Barb?”

Barb, ever the show-off, executes a perfect sit, adding a charming head tilt for good measure. Maddie beams as she offers the treat, and Barb plucks it from her open palm. She then proceeds to pet my pup with a reverence that’s very sweet.

“Aw, she likes you,” I say, knowing it’s what every dog lover wants to hear.

“Thank you so much,” Maddie’s mom says, casting a grateful glance Remy’s way before she and Maddie move on to play more games.

I turn to find Remy watching me with an expression I can’t quite read.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She smiles, but something lingers in her eyes. “Want to take a break and get some pizza? I’m starving all of a sudden.”

“Yeah, sure,” I agree. “You know me, I can always eat.”

Over thick-crust pepperoni that lives up to the hype, Remy devours two pieces with barely a word before beginning to pick at her leftover crust. She tears it into pieces that she arranges in neat rows on her plate, playing with her food the way she always does when she has something to say, but isn’t ready to say it.

I wait her out, knowing better than to push.

Finally, she looks up, meeting my gaze with a wary expression I don’t understand until she says. “So…you’re really good with kids.”

Ah, so that’s what happened…

“So are you,” I remind her. “You coach rugrats way more often than I do.”

“It’s not the same,” she says. “That’s a structured environment with rules, not just…being a grown-up around random small people. I mean, I’m getting better with that kind of thing, but it took me a while.” She sucks in a breath, bobbing a stiff shoulder. “I think it’s because I was never really a kid myself. Not a normal one, anyway.” She nods toward the gaming area. “Like that little girl. My dad would have read me the riot act if I’d run off like that and started chatting up some stranger with a dog. Or made loud noises in public.” She exhales a soft laugh. “Or in private. Our house was very quiet.”

My heart aches. I want to gather her close; to tell her it sounds like her dad was kind of a shit parent and that she deserved better. He probably didn’t mean to be—Coach Lauder isn’t a bad guy, just a hard ass—but a man shouldn’t hold a kid to the same standards as a pro athlete. Little Remy deserved patience, gentleness, and the freedom to be a loud, messy kid.

But I know she’s not ready to hear any of that. Not yet.

For good or for ill, her dad is the only family she’s got left, and he’s not the kind of man who’s going to go to therapy to work through their issues. Accepting him, as is, has clearly been her only option, thus far.

“I get it. But you don’t have to play by those rules anymore,” I say, instead. “You get to call the shots now. That’s one of the only cool parts about being an adult. Taxes and cleaning the toilet sure as hell aren’t any fun.”

Her lips twitch, but a smile doesn’t form. “I know. And like I said, I’m getting there. I just…” She tears off another piece of crust, aligning it with mathematical precision. “I just don’t know if I’ll ever not feel a little awkward around kids. And someone who feels awkward around children shouldn’t have them, you know? That’s part of why I keep things casual with men.” She rolls her eyes. “You’d be surprised how many guys our age want kids. Or think they do, anyway.”

The admission costs her. I can see it in the tight line of her shoulders, the way she won’t quite meet my eyes.

This time, I do reach for her, covering her hand with mine.

“Hey.” I wait until she looks up at me. “For what it’s worth, I think you can do anything you set your mind to. You’ve got a big heart, and any kid would be lucky to be in your orbit.” I take a breath before proceeding with caution. “But…if I were a guy around our age, I would be open to not having kids. If that really didn’t feel right for my partner. It’s not a dealbreaker for everyone, you know.”

Her lips twitch again. “If you were a guy around our age?”

I smile. “I mean, I am almost six years older than your young ass self.”

“Practically a geriatric,” she agrees, tossing a piece of crust playfully my way. “Want to head out? There’s supposed to be a little town not far from here, with shopping and glass blowing and cutesy shit to look at.”

I widen my eyes, playing up my excitement. “Glass blowing and cutesy shit to look at? Why didn’t you say so earlier? Let’s go.”

She giggles. “You’re such a weirdo.”

“Yep.” I grin and reach for where Barb’s been napping at our feet, happy that she’s smiling again.

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