her finger sliding under the heavy weight of the chain. Even though she didn’t really want to, she unhooked it and held it out to him. “Thank you for letting me wear it.”
Her mom inhaled sharply then seemed to hold her breath when she saw the necklace. Her mom and dad looked at each other and her dad didn’t put the necklace back into his pocket, instead he hooked it behind his neck. It made Bree feel sort of warm inside to know he still wore something her mom had given to him. That he’d shared it with Bree.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I told you it was lucky.”
She frowned. “But we lost.”
“Can’t win them all.”
“Yeah, but no one likes losing.”
“True. But it’s part of the game. Part of life.”
“Right,” her mom said. “Besides, it’s just for fun.”
“I didn’t say that,” her dad said. “If it was just for fun, they wouldn’t bother keeping score.”
He smiled at Bree and she knew he didn’t smile all that often and it made her so happy that she smiled back before remembering she was mad at him. But maybe...maybe he had reason to be mad at her, too.
One of the other player’s moms tapped Bree’s mom on the shoulder. While they talked, Bree twisted her fingers together. Forced herself to meet her dad’s eyes. “I...I’ve been thinking and...”
He didn’t push her, didn’t try to get her to hurry up and spit it out already like other adults. He just waited, didn’t seem to mind her silence, that she was trying to figure out what to say.
She rubbed the side of her nose. “I...I guess I’m sorry. About leaving the ice rink the other day without telling you and for being disrespectful to you.”
But not for the things she’d said. She wasn’t sure if she was sorry about them or not.
“I appreciate that,” he said. “And I’m sorry, too, for leaving you alone for so long. I would’ve much rather have skated with you than shot pucks with Luke.”
She blinked. Blinked again. “You would?”
“Absolutely.”
The way he said it reminded her of how he’d sounded when he’d told her she wasn’t a mistake. As if she’d better not argue with him or else.
She liked it.
He checked his phone. “It’s getting close to dinner. How about I take you out to celebrate having such a good game?”
Bree’s mom laughed at something the other lady said and Bree thought of how her parents had looked at each other, how they’d stood next to each other the entire game. She’d never—not once—eaten with both of them at the same time, not even at Grandma Gerry’s house last week at the picnic.
“Can my mom come?” she asked.
“Can I come where?” Maddie asked, turning back to them.
Bree crossed her fingers at her side. “Can you come to dinner with me and Dad?”
“I guess it depends on where you’re going,” she said, as if it was normal for all of them to go out to eat together.
“I thought we’d let Bree pick,” her dad said.
They both looked at her. “Can we go to Panoli’s?” she asked. They had the best pizza and really good salads with lots of croutons.
“I’m in,” her mom said. “Actually, I need to stop by Bradford House and check that it’s locked up so I’ll meet you there. And, Bree, you need to say goodbye to your uncles, Aunt Fay and grandparents and thank them for coming.”
“Okay.” She raced off, gave her uncles and Poppa Frank and Nonna Rose hugs. “I can’t find Aunt Fay,” she told her dad as she accepted Grandpa Carl’s kiss on the cheek.
“She had to leave a little early,” Grandma Gerry said, bending to give Bree a hug, her white visor hitting Bree’s shoulder. “Something about getting dinner ready for Uncle Shane. And I hear you’re eating out tonight?”
“You’re welcome to join us,” her dad said, but as much as Bree loved her grandparents, she hoped they said no.
“Can’t,” Grandpa Carl said as he stood. “We’re going to the Everetts’ tonight. It’s Homer’s seventy-fifth birthday.”
Grandma Gerry gathered the thick bleacher cushions they’d bought during a Shady Grove High School fundraiser. “Where are you two going?”
“Panoli’s,” Bree’s dad said. “And it’s three. Maddie’s joining us.”
“Oh. Oh.” Grandma Gerry sent a raised-eyebrow look at Grandpa Carl, who shrugged. “Well, that’s...nice.” She smiled at Bree. “But only one slice, right? Pizza is loaded with calories.”
“Actually,” her dad said, “Bree can have as many slices as she wants. And from now on, none of us are going