“It’ll probably be close to ten before I can get out of here,” she said finally.
“That’s okay. I had a late lunch.” I paused. “Did you have dinner already?”
“No, I’ve been here since noon.”
“Perfect.”
* * *
We went back to the Twisted Tinsel Bar since it was late and neither of us were dressed to go anywhere nicer. Horace greeted us like old friends, immediately bringing me a Molson and an eggnog for Noelle.
“Food or just drinks tonight?” he asked us.
“Food.” We spoke in unison and then smiled at each other.
“The fish and chips are on special tonight,” Horace said. “You should try it.”
“Two,” I replied, after Noelle gave me a little nod.
“That was easy,” she said, smiling.
“Horace seems to take good care of his customers.”
“He’s been here for a long time. He knows everyone and everything that goes on in town.”
“I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or terrifying.”
She smiled. “Horace is a good guy.”
“Oh, I meant to ask you earlier.” I pulled out my phone. “How would you like to go to Vancouver to see the Vipers play? I can get tickets for Tuesday night.”
“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “Really? Doesn’t hockey…bore you?”
I burst out laughing. “Really? I just bought an entire team because I missed it so much. Believe me, hockey never bores me.”
“Then, yes, I’d like to go. Very much.”
“I’ll get the tickets.”
Our food arrived and we talked about all kinds of things as we ate. She was funny and well-read, but I noticed she didn’t talk about herself much. She told me about her friend Connie’s kids, funny things that happened at the arena, and that she’d been a right wing when she played hockey. Beyond that, she kept the conversation light and deflected whenever I asked her anything personal.
“Are your parents still alive?” I asked her once we’d finished eating.
She shook her head. “My mom is, but I never knew my dad. He left when I was a baby. Mom moved to the States to take care of her mother when I turned eighteen.”
“You didn’t want to go?”
“She didn’t ask.” She finished the rest of her eggnog in one big gulp. “We’re not close.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you close to your mom?”
“Yup. And my brothers too.”
“That sounds nice. I’m an only child and Mom, well, she’s difficult. She essentially blames me for my dad leaving. Like I’m the one who got pregnant and had me.”
“Parents can be difficult. My dad and I weren’t close either. And now he’s gone.”
“Do you regret not working harder to have a better relationship now that he’s passed away?”
“Not really. Once he and Mom officially separated, he kind of separated from us kids too. I was already an adult and Kingston was in college, but it was still hard. When I had the heart attack and we found out it was genetic, I immediately had the boys—my brothers—tested. Luckily, they’re okay, but Dad refused, saying he’d been fine for nearly sixty years and the tests wouldn’t change anything.”
“You can’t save people who don’t want to be saved.”
“No, you can’t. I do work harder at staying in touch with my mom and brothers, though. Kingston’s on tour and Ashton’s in college, so it’s not easy, but we try to meet up for Christmas, birthdays, whenever we can.”
“Are you going home for Christmas?”
“My mom is still in Vancouver, so yes, I’ll be home for Christmas. Ashton too. We’re not sure about Kingston, but he said he’s trying to work it out.”
“The last Christmas I spent with my mom, she drank until she passed out and told me she forgot to buy me anything.”
“Your mom sounds lovely,” I muttered, unable to hide my annoyance.
“Just gives me a goal, you know?”
“A goal?”
“The kind of mother I don’t want to be if I ever become one.”
Chapter Eight
Noelle
* * *
I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to me talking about having kids, but his face was serious as he nodded.
“Ditto. About the kind of father I don’t want to be.”
“Do you want kids?”
“I do.” He nodded slowly. “With the right woman, and definitely not in the next year while I get this new team off the ground, but yeah. I can’t wait to do all the things my—” He was cut off by the loud ringing of my phone. Connie’s name flashed on the screen, and I frowned. It was late, especially for her.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “My friend Connie never calls this late—hang on. Con?”
“Oh thank god.” Connie sounded frantic.
“What’s wrong?”
“A pipe burst and I can’t reach the landlord. A plumber won’t even come out without giving them a credit card number and we don’t have one anymore.”
“I don’t either,” I said miserably. “Where’s Craig? Can’t he do something?”
“He’s not here and I can’t reach him either.” Connie sounded panicked. “There’s water everywhere and the baby’s crying…I don’t know what to do!” She burst into tears.
“Con, I don’t know what to do either. Without a credit card—”
“I have a credit card,” Remy interrupted me. “What do you need?”
His gaze was calm and steady, and he put one of his big, warm hands over one of mine, but I couldn’t let him get involved.
“I…” I cleared my throat. “Con, it’ll take me about forty-five minutes to get there, but I’ll leave now, okay? We’ll figure it out.” I disconnected and reached for my purse, giving Remy an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go. Connie’s having an issue and she doesn’t know where her fiancé is.”
“Why do you need a credit card? Let me help.”
“I don’t know how long it would be before they could pay you back,” I said slowly. “It’s wonderful of you to offer but—”
“I’m not worried about being paid back. It’s the holidays and if someone is struggling, I have the means to help. So let me. Please. It makes me feel good.”
“You don’t even know Connie,” I protested, though the fight had all but left me.
“But I know you and she’s obviously important to you.”
Here we were with another one of those situations where you had to compromise your principles for common sense. It was freezing cold and if there was water leaking into Connie’s apartment, she had those babies to think about. My pride, her pride, no one’s pride was going to keep those kids safe and warm.
“There’s a leak and water everywhere but she can’t reach the landlord and the plumbers she’s called need a credit card on file or they won’t even make the trip. Neither of us have one.”