but nothing about hockey.
When his fan leaves, Cole looks back at me and clears his throat, appearing embarrassed.
“Demolition Man?” I ask, arching a brow as I try to picture him flying down the ice on skates with a hockey stick in his hand. I have to admit, it fits. I would bet the friends he was with that night at the bar were his teammates.
“What time is that dance thing tomorrow?” Derek asks.
“We don’t know yet. Right, Aunt Nikki?”
I look at Derek, wondering if he’s seriously considering going. “Right.”
“I’ll text you when I know the time,” Langley says, sounding excited at the prospect of Derek going. “Oh, wait. I can’t. I lost my iPod Touch, and my mom won’t get me another one.”
My eyes shift in her direction. She had an iPod with this boy’s number in it? She texted with him? He’s older than her by a year, maybe two.
“What’s this about tomorrow?” Cole asks.
I look up at him and his watchful eyes are on me. “I’m doing a small impromptu ballet performance for Langley and her friends. It isn’t anything formal.”
“You’re a professional dancer,” he states rather than asks, and I know Renee must have told him. He gives his son a perplexed look, as if he’s not sure why Derek is interested in going. “Thank you for the invitation,” he says to Langley, “but Derek has hockey practice tomorrow.”
“Only in the morning,” Derek says.
“We’ll have to see how the day goes.” Cole appears uncomfortable as he places his hand on his son’s shoulder to urge him along. “Nice seeing you.” His gaze skims over me to include me in his polite good-bye.
Once they’ve moved down the aisle, Langley squints in my direction. “Derek’s dad is usually a lot friendlier than that.”
“I bet he is,” I mutter as overwhelming disappointment sets in. “So you and Derek text each other?”
She shrugs. “He just likes me to tell him what his dad does when he isn’t here. He wants to make sure he isn’t too sad without him.”
I squint at her. “Is that what Derek said?”
Langley nods.
“Does his father seem sad?”
“He doesn’t cry or anything, but sometimes he looks a little lonely.”
I feel an unwelcome twinge of sympathy. I understand lonely.
“I can’t believe I lost my iPod. I’m not even allowed to ask for another one before Christmas.”
Langley continues to lament her loss, but I’m still stuck on the fact that I’ve run into Cole again, here in Cooperstown of all places, and instead of the warm smile I remember, I get disdain. It hurts. I can’t pretend it doesn’t as I file away the new things I’ve learned about him. He’s a former pro hockey player, a father, my sister’s next-door neighbor, and sometimes he looks lonely.
I’m a fool because it’s the lonely part of that list that most captures my attention. If he’s lonely, maybe he’s not sleeping with Renee.
Renee . My thoughts reluctantly return to her. Does my sister hate me? Even as I think the word hate , it doesn’t feel right. I don’t believe she hates me, but she still resents me after all this time. Instead of confronting me or trying to work things out, she does subtle, passive-aggressive things that cut deeper than any words she could say to me directly.
“Lasagna.”
I blink and look at Langley.
“Lasagna,” she repeats when she has my attention. “I want lasagna for dinner. Can you cook that?”
I study my niece with her big earnest eyes and thick, dark hair so much like mine and Renee’s. Her whole future is ahead of her, and I don’t want Renee to shut me out of it anymore. What Cole thinks of me doesn’t matter. He’s a dream and not part of my reality, but what Langley thinks does matter. It matters a lot, and I want her to know that.
“Well, kiddo. Lasagna is a tough one. I might need some help.”
She sighs. “I guess I can help.”
“Great. We’ll make it together.”
I look at the road in front of me, but all I see is
When his fan leaves, Cole looks back at me and clears his throat, appearing embarrassed.
“Demolition Man?” I ask, arching a brow as I try to picture him flying down the ice on skates with a hockey stick in his hand. I have to admit, it fits. I would bet the friends he was with that night at the bar were his teammates.
“What time is that dance thing tomorrow?” Derek asks.
“We don’t know yet. Right, Aunt Nikki?”
I look at Derek, wondering if he’s seriously considering going. “Right.”
“I’ll text you when I know the time,” Langley says, sounding excited at the prospect of Derek going. “Oh, wait. I can’t. I lost my iPod Touch, and my mom won’t get me another one.”
My eyes shift in her direction. She had an iPod with this boy’s number in it? She texted with him? He’s older than her by a year, maybe two.
“What’s this about tomorrow?” Cole asks.
I look up at him and his watchful eyes are on me. “I’m doing a small impromptu ballet performance for Langley and her friends. It isn’t anything formal.”
“You’re a professional dancer,” he states rather than asks, and I know Renee must have told him. He gives his son a perplexed look, as if he’s not sure why Derek is interested in going. “Thank you for the invitation,” he says to Langley, “but Derek has hockey practice tomorrow.”
“Only in the morning,” Derek says.
“We’ll have to see how the day goes.” Cole appears uncomfortable as he places his hand on his son’s shoulder to urge him along. “Nice seeing you.” His gaze skims over me to include me in his polite good-bye.
Once they’ve moved down the aisle, Langley squints in my direction. “Derek’s dad is usually a lot friendlier than that.”
“I bet he is,” I mutter as overwhelming disappointment sets in. “So you and Derek text each other?”
She shrugs. “He just likes me to tell him what his dad does when he isn’t here. He wants to make sure he isn’t too sad without him.”
I squint at her. “Is that what Derek said?”
Langley nods.
“Does his father seem sad?”
“He doesn’t cry or anything, but sometimes he looks a little lonely.”
I feel an unwelcome twinge of sympathy. I understand lonely.
“I can’t believe I lost my iPod. I’m not even allowed to ask for another one before Christmas.”
Langley continues to lament her loss, but I’m still stuck on the fact that I’ve run into Cole again, here in Cooperstown of all places, and instead of the warm smile I remember, I get disdain. It hurts. I can’t pretend it doesn’t as I file away the new things I’ve learned about him. He’s a former pro hockey player, a father, my sister’s next-door neighbor, and sometimes he looks lonely.
I’m a fool because it’s the lonely part of that list that most captures my attention. If he’s lonely, maybe he’s not sleeping with Renee.
Renee . My thoughts reluctantly return to her. Does my sister hate me? Even as I think the word hate , it doesn’t feel right. I don’t believe she hates me, but she still resents me after all this time. Instead of confronting me or trying to work things out, she does subtle, passive-aggressive things that cut deeper than any words she could say to me directly.
“Lasagna.”
I blink and look at Langley.
“Lasagna,” she repeats when she has my attention. “I want lasagna for dinner. Can you cook that?”
I study my niece with her big earnest eyes and thick, dark hair so much like mine and Renee’s. Her whole future is ahead of her, and I don’t want Renee to shut me out of it anymore. What Cole thinks of me doesn’t matter. He’s a dream and not part of my reality, but what Langley thinks does matter. It matters a lot, and I want her to know that.
“Well, kiddo. Lasagna is a tough one. I might need some help.”
She sighs. “I guess I can help.”
“Great. We’ll make it together.”
I look at the road in front of me, but all I see is
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