Page 44 of Love at Teamsgiving
“Miguel-cott,” I mutter under my breath.
My mother is still dressed in her mourning clothes, but she has been leaving the house every morning for a cappuccino at the Busy Bee Bakery. But today, she left a note saying she was with Carlotta, looking at tile options. I roll my eyes. They both have very strong views on Carrara marble versus a terrazzo tile pattern. Maybe this will be the ceramic that will break the camel’s back, they’ll remember that they’re rivals, and forget about my salon.
When I get there a few minutes later, a tall woman with long hair stands on the sidewalk and peers through the window. A large man lumbers toward us from the other end of the sidewalk.
“Don’t tell me you’re collecting intel for Mrs. Gormely,” he says to her.
“No, but I’ve been praying for a beauty salon in this town and Margo said her friend from New York is opening one.” She bounces a little and claps her hands.
I wave and walk over. “Good morning. I’m Juniper. The proud owner of what will be Cobbiton’s salon.”
“Prayers answered. Nice to meet you. I’m Gracie, the proud owner of Once Upon a Romance.” She points to the bookstore across the street.
The man, who is rather beastly to her demure beauty with fairytale princess hair, extends his hand. “I’m Vohn Brandt, assistant coach for the Knights. The guys did some demo for you the other day?”
“That’s right. I appreciate it. Seems like a good team you’ve got.”
Expression serious, he raises his eyebrows. “A good team. No, we’re the best—” he continues with a statistical substantiation of that fact, reminding me of my father’s passion for the sport.
... and how he was the one who encouraged Miguel to play. My brother was more academic than athletic and while he wasa hockey fan, Miguel went all in. That’s the thing about him, he never does anything halfway.
Apparently, that includes making himself at home in my head because here I am again, thinking about him.
“Miguel-cott,” I murmur.
Vohn continues, “Our new center is promising. We’re going to start this season strong.”
Gracie says, “Mr. Darcy, I’m sure Juniper doesn’t want a monologue about the merits of the Knights. Remember, we said we’d only share our crazy after we get to know someone.” She winks at me. “How he feels about his sport is how I feel about books.”
I’m about to comment that I thought he said his last name was Brandt, when I get the Mr. Darcy reference. I internally roll my eyes. Sheesh. People and their silly belief in romance.
Outwardly, I smile because I already like them—people who’re unapologetically themselves.
And there I am, right back thinking about Miguel.
He’s not a chameleon, changing for other people. He laughs robustly, lives large, and loves big. Especially his family.
Until he gets traded to another team, I guess there’s no avoiding him. But I’m still boycotting the man.
Gracie lowers her voice and says, “I saw Nancy Linderberg over here the other day, but I’d like to officially welcome you to Hockey Town, aka Cobbiton, with its deep appreciation for all things corn, including the corniest jokes ever, and of course, the Knights.”
“Thanks. Nancy wasn’t exactly the warmest, welcoming committee.”
“If there’s anything you need as you get up and running, I’m right over there all day, every day.” Gracie points at the shop.
“With breaks for hockey games,” Vohn says.
She kisses his jaw. “Of course. Can we get Juniper some tickets?” Turning to me, she asks, “Do you like hockey?”
I shift from foot to foot because that’s like asking an orange what color it is.
She splays her hands. “If you’ve never been to a game, not to worry. It’s relatively easy to follow and there’s a lot of enthusiasm. Plus, the intermission show is super fun. Practically a dance party.”
“Juniper,” a voice calls from down the street.
I wave at Margo, who rushes our way. “Oh, good, you’re getting to know everyone.”
Gracie says, “I offered Juniper some tickets to the game Friday night.”
