“I’m Hayden and I wear red.”
“I’m Hunter and I wear blue.”
“I’m Hudson and I wear green.”
“Seriously?” I ask Aiden, and he nods.
“Kendra used to put their initials on the bottom of their feet with Sharpies when they were little.” He shrugs. “But who knows? Maybe Hudson was really Hayden and Hunter was Hudson at one point.”
“Stop it!” Hudson says.
Aiden tickles him. “I’m joking. Most of us don’t need the colors anymore. We can tell by your personalities who is who.” He leans in. “One day though, they’re gonna screw with us.”
Aiden walks into the kitchen and I follow. Working in the kitchen is a guy who’s definitely the father of the three boys and girl with dark hair and dark eyes.
“Hey, Joe.” Aiden shakes his hand. “Joe is our chef for these brunches, and his sous chef is Emma.”
Aiden holds out his arms and Emma walks into them. His eyes shut when he hugs her. For a moment, I catch Kendra and Joe sharing a look.
“How’s it going?” Aiden asks.
“Good. I made the team,” she whispers.
Aiden pulls back and looks at Kendra, who says, “She wanted to tell you herself!”
“Let’s go on the ice,” Aiden exclaims. “Show me your moves.” Emma glances at me and Aiden notices. “Emma, this is Saige, my girlfriend.”
“Nice to meet you, Emma.” I smile and nod.
“You too.”
He ruffles her hair and she quickly fixes it. “After brunch. You and me on the lake.”
“She’s gonna school you. Her slap shot is deathly.” Joe points at his face. It’s then I notice a healing black eye.
Aiden cracks up. “What is a chef doing on the ice with the next Hayley Wickenheiser?”
Emma rolls her eyes. Although I don’t know the player they’re talking about, she must be one of the best.
“Who let these monsters in my house?” Phil shouts from the family room.
Three boys yell, “Grandpa!” in unison.
“I’m sure he didn’t tell you what you signed up for, did he?” Kendra whispers in my ear. “Come have some coffee in the sunroom where it’s quiet.”
I join his sister and find a coffee machine in there.
“I love brunch days. They’re the one day I get catered to.” She takes a seat and rests her feet on the stool.
“It must be hard with three little ones.”
“Emma helps a lot, but as they get older, it gets a little easier. I imagine each phase will bring something different.” She sips her coffee. “So tell me about you. My brother doesn’t ever tell us much about his personal life, but I heard a bit from Frankie. She said that you’re sweet, but you guys aren’t actually a couple?”
My face heats. Kendra must be wondering why I’m sleeping with him in his room if we’re not together. Time to clear this up. “We weren’t when we were in New York, but we are now. It’s newish.”
“And the whole drink in his face thing?”
I laugh at how absurd it sounds coming from her mouth. “Yeah, he seems to think it makes a difference in how he plays.” I shrug.
“So you get to throw white wine in his face before every game?”
I nod.
“Man, I’m jealous.” She laughs, and I sip my coffee. “I’d love to be able to have an excuse to do that to my husband.”
We both laugh.
“What?” Aiden peeks his head into the sunroom. “Is she telling stories about me?” He slides in next to me on the wicker love seat.
“Not at all,” I say.
“Since when are you a superstitious person? He’s told you the story of him picking number thirteen, right?” Kendra asks.
“Stop giving all my secrets away,” Aiden says good-naturedly.
“He was ten at the time, and until then he’d been number nine, I think.”
Aiden nods.
“Then our parents take us to Milwaukee for a night at a hotel where we could swim in a pool and have fun. And he discovers there’s no floor thirteen on the elevator buttons. This baffles him, so he keeps asking questions about it the entire trip. We get back, hockey season starts, and he says he’d like number thirteen because he doesn’t believe in bad luck.”
I look at Aiden and the tips of his ears are pink. He says, “True story. Thirteen ever since.”
“That’s a great story! And you’ve had a great career.”
“Until he had to have a woman throw wine in his face before every game.”
Aiden picks up a magazine and tosses it at Kendra as she laughs.
After brunch, Aiden and Emma go out and skate on the small lake behind the house while the three boys play in the snow with Joe and Phil. Kendra, Barb, and I sit in the sunroom and watch.
“Brunch was great,” I say.
“Thanks. Too bad you guys don’t live closer,” Kendra says. “I could use some babysitters.”
Barb and Kendra laugh.
“It must be hard not having Aiden around that much,” I say.
Barb nods. “The first few years were bad, but you get used to it. We raised them to leave the nest. No one wants their adult child living with them.”
I understand her point, but still, the love this family has makes me hope I could have it someday. My family isn’t terribly close, especially since my parents divorced after I graduated high school.
Emma circles around Aiden. I can tell he’s not giving his all, which I find endearing. She scores and raises her hands in victory, doing the same celebration move that Aiden does.
“Oh!” I point.
Kendra laughs. “Yeah, he’s kind of her idol.”
We keep watching until Aiden eventually calls it quits. He takes off his skates and walks up to the door.
“Maybe she should take your spot on the lineup tomorrow?” Kendra says.
“My skates are old, okay?” Aiden sneers. “Fuck though, Kendra, she’s good.” He comes in and sits next to me, pressing his cold ear to my cheek.
“I know. Pretty soon she’ll be leaving us too.”
A look of sorrow hits Aiden. He hasn’t told me much about his family. “With her moves, she’s definitely gonna have opportunities.”
Kendra sips her coffee. “I know.”
Silence falls over the room, and Aiden grabs my hand. “Come on, I want to take you on a walk.”
“A walk?” Kendra says. “There’s the way to a woman’s heart. Take her on a walk in negative-ten-degree weather. No wonder you’ve been single for so long.”
I laugh while Aiden scowls at his sister.
“Don’t go too far. We have to leave for the bar soon,” Barb says.
“I won’t, Mom.”
After I’m as bundled up as I can be, Aiden and I walk along a path behind their house.
“Do you like it here?” he asks.
“Besides the weather, I do. Your family is great.”
“I know.” He squeezes my hand.
“They miss you,” I say.
“I know.”
“Have you ever talked about trying to get traded to Chicago or Minnesota so you could be closer?”