I rub my temple and kick my shoes off. “Look, I’m not doing this.”

“I hate rotisserie chicken,” Vi says, walking back into the living room.

“I’ll take you out for dinner,” Jenna says. “Get your stuff and we’ll go.”

Vi looks at me, silently seeking permission.

“Vi, get your stuff,” Jenna says firmly.

“She knows she needs to ask first,” I say. “House rules.”

“I’m her mother. I don’t need permission to take my daughter out for the night.”

“You might not need permission, but she does, because I’m her legal guardian.”

“Guys, please don’t fight,” Vi says pleadingly.

I shake my head. She’s right. Jenna’s never been a good mom, but I’ve always tried to make sure that when she does take the time to pay attention to her children for a few days a year, it’s a positive experience for them.

“Dinner and the nail appointment is fine,” I tell Vi. “You need to come right home after, though, and get your homework done.”

“I don’t have homework.”

“Okay, good.”

She comes over to hug me. “Bye, love you.”

“Love you, too. Have fun.” I kiss the top of her head. “And no hair color until we’ve discussed it more.”

“Okay.”

Jenna huffs. “You’re unbelievable. You always have to be in control of everything.”

There are so many things I could say, but why bother? Jenna just doesn’t get it. She never has. She has no idea what it really means to be a mom. Or, what it should mean.

I walk into the bedroom to change into sweats, and by the time I come back out, Jenna and Vi are gone. I have just enough time to scarf down some chicken and macaroni and text Kelly about Hazel staying over a few days early. Then I go buy Max’s new track shoes and come home to pack a bag for Hazel so I can pick her up at eight and take her to Kelly and Ross’ house.

So much for that glass of wine on the back porch.NineEasy“Heads up, guys,” I tell the kids gathered in a circle on the ice. “This is what I’m talking about.”

I use the stick Cade loaned me to pass him the puck. He slides it right back to me and I fire it into the net.

“He almost missed,” I hear a boy say in a low tone.

“Not every shot gets sent down the middle,” I say pointedly.

“Don’t let ‘em get to you,” Cade says, smirking.

Ignoring him, I say, “Okay, guys, get in line and I’m gonna pass the puck back to you like Coach Donovan just passed it to me. I want you to take your best shot.”

The youth hockey league is open to kids between the ages of eight and fifteen, and there’s a wide range of skill levels. Some of the kids can barely skate. One of the kids misses my easy pass, then trips and falls.

“You’re okay,” I tell him. “We’ll try again.”

Allie’s niece Hazel is up next, and she fires the puck into the back of the net like she’s done it a thousand times.

“Nice,” I say, edging another puck out for the next kid.

Hazel has a natural affinity for hockey. I can tell she’s a born athlete who probably picks up on most sports easily. She never soft peddles it, either. In every drill, she gives one hundred percent. She pushes back at the boys who give her a hard time, too. I see Allie in her, and it doesn’t hurt like I would’ve expected. It just makes me even more proud of the job Allie’s done raising the kids.

Hazel also reminds me a lot of myself at her age. I can’t help wondering if, like me, she’s intense on the ice but easygoing off it.

Practices always fly by. I feel like I’ve only been working with the kids for maybe fifteen minutes, but it’s been an hour. I send them into the locker room to get changed and start skating around the rink to round up pucks when I look over and see Allie sitting on the bottom row of the stands.

There’s a blond next to her, and from the quick look I get, they seem to be arguing. I pick up the pace gathering the pucks and quickly change out of my skates so I can go over to the stands.

Allie hasn’t been mine to protect for a long time, but I can’t deny the strong urge I still feel to do it. I don’t like seeing someone upset her, no matter how insignificant their argument may be.

Even if that’s another hockey mom telling Allie the team shirts should be a different color, I’m going over there to take up for Allie’s choice. It’s probably petty of me, but that’s where I’m at.

She told me when she broke it off with me that our fidelity to each other was over. But she can’t control my devotion, and I’ve been devoted to her in my heart since the first day I spoke to her.

Tags: Brenda Rothert Chicago Blaze Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net