Page 45 of Margo and the Faux Good Luck Beau
I lean against the wall for a long moment, still unable to catch my breath.
Later doesn’t comefor a few days because Beau wasn’t joking that he has hockey stuff. They travel to Colorado for a game. I’m not sure how the guys with families do it. But I also wonder if some parts of the season are busier than others ... and if Beau is a bit of a hockey-a-holic. Yes, it’s his job, but perhaps it’s also a coping mechanism. But for what? His family’s stipulations—whatever those are.
However, this time, we do text every morning and before I go to sleep. Each time, he signs off withGood night, Honey Butter.
Warm fuzzies accompany me as I drift off, my head filled with happy, floating hearts.
Juniper and I buddy watch the game and talk on speaker phone about my personal crises (yes, plural) during commercials.
“He said you’re getting married on St. Patrick’s Day?” she asks.
I lift my shoulder with a shrug. “That’s what he told my mother and sister. Then he said we’d talk about it.”
“And?”
“That hasn’t happened.”
“You said he’s quiet. Maybe you have to bring it up. But wait, if you do follow through, that means you’ll get married here in New York using all the services you’d hired for the Leprechauns.”
I appreciate that she uses that nickname for them, but I don’t want to get my hopes up. “Beau was so firm with my mother. I can only imagine the scandal on her features.”
“That sounds dramatic.”
“You still haven’t met Wren Cabot.”
“And from what I’ve heard, I don’t understand how she produced you, basically her opposite.”
“Thanks for saying that. But she has her mini-me, Celeste.”
The game comes back on. Two minutes in, I launch to my feet, shouting at the refs on TV when they make a no-goal call after it clearly crosses the red line.
“They’re going to throw corn cobs. Knights fans don’t mess around,” Juniper says.
“Corn cobs?”
“Some teams throw rats. Others fruit. Nebraska, corn.” She shrugs. “Also, knights are associated with swords, and tossing those would get everyone put in the penalty box. Corn is long and slender, kind of like a sword but a safer choice. I think they even sell those foam swords that have a kernel print on them. You’re from Hockey Town. Why don’t you know this?”
“I am woefully under-prepared for the world of hockey.”
“Welcome, I’ve been waiting for you,” she says in a smooth tone like I’m being inducted into a secret society.
We both laugh.
By the third period, questions begin to populate my mind.
If Beau and I do get married, will we set a divorce date?
In the meantime, where will we live?
