Page 99 of Skating and Fake Dating
I take the ribbing with a smile because he’s not wrong.
Practice flies by in a blur of drills and scrimmages. My body moves on instinct now, free from the weight of fear which used to plague me, that I was one game away from losing it all. When Coach blows the final whistle, I’m already halfway to the showers.
After freshening up, on the drive to Nanna’s house, I can’t help but notice the way the November light filters through bare branches, dappling the countryside road. Bailey’s grandmother’s farmhouse comes into view, smoke curling from the chimney against the crisp blue sky.
I’m barely through the door when Tiny barrels toward me, one hundred twenty pounds of black and tan Great Dane energy—you’d think she’s still a puppy. Her paws land on my shoulders as she licks my face enthusiastically.
“Down, Tiny,” I laugh, scratching behind her ears. “Where’s your mom? She would not approve of this greeting.” Though it’s kind of become our thing.
Following the symphony of timer beeps, I find Bailey in the kitchen, a whirlwind of focus. Her maple-blonde hair is piled in a messy bun, flour dusting one cheek, and no fewer than three timers are counting down on the counter. Mason jars line every surface, their contents rich and buttery.
This is Bailey in her element—the same woman who can be tardy but also has the ability to make compelling arguments and have people laughing on opposite ends of a sentence—it’s all about punctuation.
I wrap my arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her neck. “Hey, Blondie.”
The nickname that once made her cringe now brings a smile to her face. She leans back into me, her hands still stirring something on the stovetop.
“You’re early,” she says, turning to press a quick kiss to my jaw.
“No one really wants to practice on Thanksgiving, so we didn’t goof around. Need help?”
Together, we fall into a rhythm—I label jars while she fills them, the kitchen gradually returning to order. As I wipe down counters, I marvel at how naturally our worlds have merged. My rigid routines have softened, making room for her spontaneity,while her chaos has found structure in the foundation we’ve built together.
“We should probably get going soon. Your parents are expecting us by three.”
Bailey sighs, deliberately slowing her movements. “The cranberry sauce probably needs another hour to set.”
I hide my smile. “Are you using that as an excuse?”
“Both?” She bites her lip, a tell I’ve come to recognize.
“Plus, everyone knows the cranberry sauce from the can is better.”
“Blasphemy.”
“This can be our one fight.”
She starts to laugh, but it quickly dies. “Odette texted the family chat this morning. She’s bringing Damian’s parents.”
Ah. There it is.
“Listen.” I take her hands in mine, turning her to face me. “Your sister can bring the entire courthouse if she wants. You’re still the one who is building a maple butter empire.”
Her eyes flick to the stack of Sweet Memories Maple Company labels on the counter—the dream she’s finally pursuing, leaving her NHL job behind to tap trees this winter and stay in Maple Falls.
“Speaking of building things,” says a familiar voice from the doorway. Mom stands there in her cable-knit sweater, her Alabama drawl somehow stronger after a week in Washington. “I found two houses I want to look at tomorrow.”
Bailey’s face lights up. “You’re really considering moving, Lolly?”
Mom shrugs, but I can see the decision is already made. “Ain’t nothing left in Alabama but memories. Time to make new ones.”
My mother, who once couldn’t leave her hometown without a week’s worth of planning and a bottle of anxiety medication, drove a rented camper across the country by herself. One morechange I never saw coming. And the fact that she and Bailey are already best friends makes me happier than I could’ve imagined.
We load the car with food and maple butter gifts, Bailey insisting on bringing Tiny despite her tendency to believe she’s lap-size.
The Porter household buzzes with activity—at least thirty family members cram into every available space.
Odette immediately corners us by the appetizer table, her diamond engagement ring catching the light as she gestures. “So, Bailey is really quitting her job? Bold move in this economy.”
