Page 24 of O Goalie Night
“Of course.”
“Really?” She gives me a smile that could bring a grown man to his knees.
This grown man, anyway.
“Thank you so much! You’re going to love your first Michaels family birthday dinner. Mom’s lasagna has four different kinds of cheese and three different kinds of meat. It will take years off your life, but it’s totally worth it.”
“It’s cheat day anyway.” As glad as I am to have made her so happy by granting such a simple request, I can’t deny it’s bittersweet. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a family dinner and I can’t help thinking about Cody and wondering if he’s okay.
“I’m going to text Ben.” As she skips out of the kitchen, the pompoms on her slipper socks bounce around her ankles. “Another fun fact about our family birthdays? We wear party hats.”
I frown at her retreating form. “I’m not really a party hat person.”
“Don’t worry—you will be!”
CHAPTER 11
BETH
“Aww, fuck off,” Ben says when he sees what I’m holding. “You added too many candles on purpose. There’s no way I’m that old.”
My brother looks like an overgrown toddler who didn’t get his nap as he pouts at the five-layer chocolate cake I place in front of him. His cardboard party hat is slightly askew completing the look perfectly.
“Hate to break it to you, Benny-boy, but you are that old.” I pull out my phone and start taking rapid fire pictures. “Oh! You look really miserable in this one. That’s going on this year’s Christmas card.”
Foster laughs from the end of the table and I pivot to take a picture of him, too. I’m not surprised it turns out beautiful because, well, Foster is beautiful. Especially on the rare occasions when he laughs.
He scowls at me when he realises I took his picture, but I can tell his heart’s not in it. There’s such softness in his eyes sometimes.
Turning back to my brother, I say, “If you take a nice one for Mom, I promise not to sing to you.”
His sour expression immediately transforms into a boyish grin and I take a few more pictures.
“Wow,” Will says, still snacking on leftover garlic bread, as he observes my brother's rapid change from asshole to angel as he poses for me. “You really don’t want to hear her sing.”
“You don’t either,” he laughs.
“Hey, I’m not that bad.”
“Beth,” Ben says in a patronising tone before turning back to Will. “When she joined her elementary school choir, her music teacher told her just to mouth the words while the other kids sang.”
My cheeks heat even as I try to laugh along with him and Will, but the truth is that Mrs. Doiron really hurt my feelings when she’d said that to me. I was only nine and I just wanted to sing with my friends.
Foster is the only one at the table not laughing. “Blow out your damn candles before you burn my fucking house down, Old Man.”
“You’re older than I am,” Ben retorts.
“Smarter and better-looking too,” Foster adds.
“He’s got you there,” Will agrees.
No arguments here,I think to myself.
I’m so glad that my brother has friends like these two. Real ones that will have his back, but also put him in his place if his head gets too big for his shoulders.
Ben blows out all twenty-nine candles with one breath and we all applaud.
“All that conditioning really paid off.” He smirks as he starts to cut the cake into enormous portions and putting them on the plates I’ve given him.
