40. Bethany
Chapter forty
Bethany
Reggie is not invited to girls’ day.
Jenna announces this three times before we leave Hockey House, as if one of us might smuggle him into the truck under a coat.
Anne, Jenna and I are standing just inside the front door. Reggie stands between Jonah’s boots, wearing his Sir Reginald sweater.
“You’ll be fine,” Jenna tells him.
Reggie whines.
Jonah picks him up.
“We’ll protect him.”
“That is what worries me.”
Four hockey players have gathered in the boot room to receive one nine-pound puppy.
Shane holds Jenna’s printed instructions. Wesley inventories the toys while Jonah holds Reggie against his chest.
Maxon may only be here to flirt with Anne.
Reggie looks pleased with the arrangement.
“I wrote down his schedule,” Jenna says.
Shane lifts the paper. “We have it.”
“He may whine when I leave.”
Wesley presses one hand to his chest.
“Don't worry. He's with his favorite uncles.” Reggie licks Jonah’s jaw.
Maxon smiles. Anne stands beside him, camera bag hanging from one shoulder, watching the exchange with obvious amusement.
“I’ll make sure he survives.” Shane folds the instructions and puts them in his pocket.
“Make sure his sweater survives too,” Jenna says. “It was expensive.”
Timothy comes down the stairs pulling a sweatshirt over his head.
It has been two days since Bennett Rink and the balcony, and nothing between us feels ordinary yet.
Maybe it never will.
Timothy reaches the bottom of the stairs and smiles at me. “You’re leaving?”
“For girls’ day,” Jenna says.
“You weren’t invited,” I add.
“I understood that from the title.”
Anne glances toward Maxon. “Apparently, no boys allowed.”
“We have a prior commitment,” Jonah says.
Reggie chews on his jacket zipper.
Timothy comes closer. His hand finds mine for one brief squeeze. “Have fun,” he says.
“Thanks. I will.”
Jenna points toward the door.
“We are leaving.”
Anne opens the front door. I glance back once before following her.
Timothy is still smiling at me.
***
Inside Jenna's car, Anne leans forward from the back seat. “How long do we have?”
“The guys said they could watch him all afternoon.”
Jenna's plan includes several shops in downtown Iron Peak, lunch at a café Anne likes, and something Jenna has labeled PERSONAL HAIR REMOVAL TIME.
I do not ask what that means.
I am afraid it involves a salon.
Or feelings.
Possibly both.
Our first stop is a small boutique with candles, jewelry, sweaters, and decorative pillows containing commands about gratitude.
Jenna finds a pillow that reads:
HOME IS WHERE THE DOG HAIR STICKS TO EVERYTHING.
“I need this.”
She adds it to her pile.
I have already explained that I do not need anything.
Anne calls me over to inspect a soft green sweater.
“This color would look good on you.”
“It’s impractical.”
“It is a sweater.”
She studies me. “When was the last time you bought something because you liked it?”
I examine the sweater again.
It is soft. The green is darker than the scarf I wore to the rink ceremony. Timothy would like it.
I set the sweater over my arm. “I'll try it on.”
Jenna clutches the pillow to her chest.
“Our girl is growing up.”
At the next shop, Jenna tries on sunglasses shaped like hearts.
Anne finds a vintage camera strap.
I stand beside a display of earrings while they debate whether the sunglasses make Jenna look whimsical or unstable.
My phone buzzes inside my purse.
It is Timothy.
Hope girls’ day is fun. No emergencies here.
I type:
Jenna is forcing me to shop. Please send help.
His answer appears a moment later.
You secretly love it.
I glance at Jenna, who is now wearing the heart-shaped sunglasses while Anne takes a picture.
I do.
Anne’s phone buzzes almost immediately.
She glances at the screen and smiles.
“What?” Jenna asks.
“Maxon.”
“Of course.”
Anne turns the phone so we can see.
MAXON:
Reggie has stolen a sock and Jonah says we shouldn’t interfere with his creative process.
Anne types a quick reply and puts her phone back into her pocket.
Jenna points between the two of us. “This is disgusting. I brought you both out for girls’ day.”
I slip my phone back into my purse, and Jenna gives it a pointed look.
"Was that my brother texting you?” she asks me.
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“Nothing. He told me to have fun.”
Anne smiles. “That’s sweet.”
It is.
***
The café is crowded enough that we wait ten minutes for a table.
Normally, I would use those ten minutes to answer emails. Today, Jenna takes my phone out of my hand.
“I was reading that.”
“You were working.”
Anne nods.
I hold out my hand. But instead of giving me back my phone, Jenna puts my phone into her purse.
“You cannot confiscate my property.”
“I can if I’m carrying the larger bag.”
“What if it is urgent?”
“Is the building on fire?”
I give her a look.
The hostess calls her name before I can argue. Anne links her arm through mine.
“Come on.”
Over lunch, Anne tells us about the Bennett Rink feature she is preparing for the team website.
“I need your approval before anything goes live.”
“I want veto power over any picture where both skates are above my head.”
“That may eliminate several excellent options.”
Jenna lifts her drink. “I want the one of you and Tim kissing.”
My face heats.
“You photographed that?”
“I photograph significant moments.”
“Send it to me,” Jenna says.
The conversation moves to Jenna’s website work, Anne’s photography, and whether Reggie has already eaten something important at Hockey House.
No one asks me to fix anything.
Somewhere between Jenna’s story about Reggie barking at an oven door and Anne admitting Maxon owns three identical black shirts, I realize I am having fun.
***
The final stop is a sporting-goods shop near the arena. One that has a towering wall of Outlaws merchandise.
“You cannot keep attending games dressed like you may be called away to inspect a furnace.”
“My coat is warm.”
“It is practical,” Anne agrees.
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
Jenna pulls a dark Outlaws jersey from the rack and turns it around.
brENTON
Timothy’s number sits beneath his name.
“It’s too much.”
“It is a jersey,” Jenna says. "And I'll pay for it."
Anne touches the sleeve. “This is nice.”
“You are supposed to be neutral.”
“I abandoned neutrality when I documented your rinkside reconciliation.”
Jenna holds the jersey against me.
It is slightly oversized.
“Perfect.”
“But if I wear that to a game, everyone will know.”
Both women stare at me. I cross my arms.
“Everyone already knows,” Anne says.
“You kissed him on Bennett Rink in front of the team, your mother, one of the owners, several children, and two dogs.”
I stare at Timothy’s name.
The jersey says I came for him.
Not the team. Not Hockey House.
Timothy.
My first choice.
“When is the next game?” I ask.
Jenna’s expression becomes alarmingly pleased.
“Saturday.”
I take the jersey from her. Anne hands me a smaller one, and I carry both into the fitting room.
The smaller jersey fits.
brENTON stretches across my shoulders.
For one moment, I see the lonely thirteen-year-old who would have thought this impossible.
Then I see myself.
Choosing.
I step out of the fitting room. Jenna’s face lights up. Anne smiles. Jenna walks around me.
“Turn.”
I turn. She makes a small sound. “That is adorable.”
“It is a professional sports jersey.”
“On you, it is adorable.”
Anne smiles. “Timothy is going to love it.”
The words send warmth through me.
“I’ll take it.”
Jenna throws both arms around me. Anne joins the hug from the other side. My arms hang awkwardly for a second. Then I wrap one around each of them.
The sun is setting by the time we return to Hockey House.
The porch door opens before Jenna parks.
Reggie races down the steps wearing no sweater and carrying one of Wesley’s socks.
Five men follow him.
“He had an excellent day,” Jonah calls.
“He is a criminal,” Wesley says.
Maxon holds up Reggie’s green sweater. “He got stuck halfway under the couch.”
Jenna gets out of the truck.
“How?”
Four men begin explaining at once.
Anne laughs beside me.
I stay in the passenger seat for one extra second, watching the chaos.
Timothy stands in the lodge doorway. His gaze finds me through the windshield. He smiles.
The jersey remains folded in the shopping bag at my feet. A small secret for Saturday.
I climb out of the truck. Timothy comes down the porch steps to meet me.
“Did you have fun?”
“Yes.”
He reaches for my hand.
“Did you get anything?”
“A sweater.”
Jenna makes a suspicious choking noise behind me. I tighten my grip on the bag.
We walk toward the lodge together.
Jenna is scolding four hockey players while Reggie races circles around her legs. Anne is already taking pictures. Maxon leans over to see the camera screen.
Timothy squeezes my hand as we reach the porch.
I look at the lodge.
Being chosen feels wonderful.
Choosing back feels even better.