Candy Canes and Hockey Sticks

CHAPTER 1

LUCY

It would have been the birthday party to end all birthday parties, if only the ice didn't melt.

I watched my nephew, Paulie, hold back tears for his mother's sake.

He nodded a short, but collected, “okay” to the suggestion of a movie birthday party as his beloved ice rink puddled at his feet.

For the past month he had a countdown on his calendar.

He ripped off days the rink would finally be open after a renovation cut his skate time short.

He was finally allowed to play hockey after years of begging.

All hockey gave him was a puck in the face.

Add it to my growing list of why I hate hockey. The way it rips your heart out, leaves you cold, is unforgiving when you fall. Everything about it leaves me shivering, again.

My sister spouted profanities all over the apologetic manager.

His face contorted with her every inconceivable word.

I didn't know what she was saying. He didn't know what she was saying.

She didn't know what she was saying. She was beyond the point of rational thought as her son's birthday was ruined.

“Okay, okay.” I placed my hands on her shoulders as her flailing arms notated the escalation of her anger and pulled her backwards to protect the shriveling man in front of her.

“I'm really sorry ma'am. The generator broke in the night. There is nothing I can do.” His voice squeaked. It was amazing how one angry mother could shrivel the bravado of a grown man.

“Don't worry about her, she's just a mom.” I turned in Sarah's direction to see her furiously texting the rapidly approaching parents of party attendants, to tell them to meet at the movies.

“She'll be all right later. Maybe throw in some free skate time to prevent her from venting her frustration all over the internet?” I smiled in his direction.

“Of course. Of course.” His defeated shoulders slumped.

I searched for my nephew, his husky 10-year-old frame squished on the curb like a melted marshmallow. Pasty and sad, he tried his best to seem stoic, but my heart knew otherwise. I could read my beloved's face like a book. His heart was broken.

“Hey, little buddy.” I threw my arm tightly around him, squeezed his shoulders and kissed his sweaty head, even when I knew he hated it. “You are being super mature right now. If my birthday skate party got canceled I would be a blubbering idiot.”

“I want to, but you know Mom. If I cry, she'll cry. Then you'll cry. Then the twins will laugh at us.” He picked at the crumbling concrete and skidded it across the empty parking lot.

“This is true. But hey, at least we will get to see a movie.” I tossed his shaggy hair until he swatted my hand away with something that vaguely resembled a smile on his face.

“Yeah, the baby movie.” He rolled his eyes.

“All right, damn, Paulie. I was looking forward to that movie. Come on.” I stood and hoisted my overly mature nephew to his feet.

“You can drive with me to get away from your sisters. We'll stop and get milkshakes on the way to the movie and if you want to cry in the back seat I'll take it to my grave.” I held out my hands in offering.

“Thanks, Lulu.” Paulie ran to my car as I gave my sister the nod to signal I was taking her kid.

She mouthed a quick “Thank you” then herded my nieces into the car to make it to the mall before everyone arrived.

Milkshakes, no matter how cold outside, were always a good idea.

I heard deep slurps and low mumbles from the backseat as an off-tune prepubescent boy tried to forget his troubles with a song on the radio.

But as the sugar wore off the closer we drove to the theater, slurps were replaced with sniffles.

And I could only let it go on for so long before my need to be an overbearing aunt sunk in.

“You okay, little buddy?” His eyes were glassy in the rear view.

“I wish Dad was home. It's my tenth birthday for fuck's sake.” He spoke with his hands.

“Whoa. Language.” I practically swerved at my angel swearing like a sailor.

“You and Mom say it all the time.” His eyes shot at me in the mirror.

“That's different. We are adults, you're–”

“It's my tenth birthday and the ice melted! I have to see a baby movie! Dad won't be home for another two weeks and I have to be eating Grandma's roast for dinner because the twins just have to go to physical therapy tonight.”

His tone of voice startled me. He sounded so much like an adult. When did that happen? Wasn't it just last week that I was changing his diapers? Didn't he just start school last month? Why do they grow up so fast?

“Well, the twins did break their arms. They do need the therapy.” I couldn't think of anything to make it any better.

“They jumped off the garage roof. They deserve it.”

Bubbles of laughter popped in my chest that were thankfully infectious to my favorite little man. “I think your mom just wants to save the family celebration until Dad gets home, you know?”

Buzz Buzz.

“That's probably her now. Hello?”

“Where are you, Lucy? The movie starts in ten minutes!” Sarah's voice sounded hoarse.

“Relax, we got milkshakes. We'll be there in five.”

“Is he okay?” She whispered.

Just like a mother to go from anger at her sister to sympathy for her son in .5 seconds.

Paulie wiped his cheek with a gloved hand. The carefree child started to return, bringing light to his puffy red eyes. He texted on his phone and smiled at whatever kids look at now-a-days.

“He'll be fine.”

I pulled into the parking lot just as Sarah hung up the phone.

“Your Dad is going to be home before you know it. He'll bring you lots of cool toys from China and hug you like crazy and make up for the two months lost.” I patted his knee cap that was nervously bouncing up and down.

“Yeah, I know, it just isn't the same.” Paulie opened the door and hopped out of the car.

He was still slightly deflated, but the sight of his friend's heightened his shoulders. They patted him on the back. They gave him birthday hugs. The kids were gonna be alright.

“I hope I can get through this fucking movie.” Sarah shoved a ticket and a giant tub of popcorn in my hand.

“Like mother, like son.” I inhaled the unmistakable scent of salt laced and butter smothered perfection.

“What was that?” She snapped. Her nerves visibly frayed like the ends of her hair. She really needed a deep condition or at least a trim.

“Nothing.” I threw my arm around her and walked her into the theater. I took her licks, her sour mood, like a good sister. She wasn't really mad at me. She knew she couldn't go toe-to-toe with me in that aspect anyway. She was just overwhelmed with life.

Her head rested comfortably on my shoulder as we slowly walked to the theater. Loud kids were in front of us, beside us and behind us. I smoothed her hair down as she tried to release the tension in her shoulders with a breath. It didn't really work, but we were trying our best.

Bright colors and obnoxious characters flashed for the next hour and a half, almost giving me a seizure. The only thing that kept me awake was the greasy popcorn and the endless stream of kids needing a bathroom break before their tiny bladders burst.

Paulie was showered with gifts and loaded with cake before the party was over. But every time I looked at his face, I could tell it wasn't enough.

“What am I going to do? His birthday is ruined. I was counting on that rink. Skating is the only thing I thought would make him happy.”

“He is having a good time. Look at him.” I lied the best I could, but Sarah saw through me like all good sisters can.

“What am I going to do?” Her sad eyes mimicked her son.

I had been batting the idea around in my head by the third time I had to take a 10-year-old to the bathroom.

Every part of my being wanted to go home, snuggle in bed with some wine and a book and try to forget the smell of sticky floors and boys who needed to learn what deodorant was.

But I loved him too much to let his birthday go to bust.

“You still have his skates in your car?”

“Yeah, what do you have planned?” Her face perked up like a starving dog waiting for a bone.

“A long ass car ride and hopefully a skate on the most famous rink in the world.”

Sarah lunged forward and nearly knocked me over with a kiss. “You are an angel. Here, take Robbie's credit card.” She dug in her pocket and pulled out ticket stubs and receipts.

“No, no I got it!” I laughed as she hugged me again, the stress disappearing from her face instantaneously.

Kids dispersed in cake induced comas, one by one, leaving Paulie slack-faced at the prospect of my mother's cooking.

My hand landed on the top of his head under the pretense to fix his hair, but really, I wanted to feel the baby softness that still lingered in his fibers, even if it left his speech.

“You have a good party?”

“Yeah Lulu, it was nice.” He was a worse liar than I was.

“Go sound more convincing to your mother and I'll drive you home.” Paulie ran to his mother, almost knocking her over with a hug. Her eyes filled with moisture as she smelt his hair. Bless his little potty-mouthed heart.

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and called my own mother to tell her the change of plans.

“Hello, Lucy. how did the movie go?”

“Hi, Mommy. He is trying his best to be a good sport.”

“Poor thing. I wish we could make it better for him.”

I thanked my stars. My eyes turned up to the sky to try and catch a glimpse of whatever luck laid up there. “Well, I'm glad you said that. Would you mind if I stole him for the night? I have a plan that might just perk him up.”

I whispered my scheme quickly before Paulie returned and pulled on me to go. I didn't want to ruin the surprise and I knew after a sugar high there would be an immediate crash. He was asleep in the car within the fifteen minutes it would have taken to get to my mother's house.

The traffic to New York City was minimal for Thursday night. Even if I had to silently flip off two assholes who thought it was okay to cut me off when I had precious cargo in my car.