Page 41 of The Rebound Play
“As cheesy as this sounds, man—go get your girl.”
And that’s exactly what I intend to do.
CHAPTER 12
KEIRA
“Why are you suddenly playing matchmaker?” I ask Clara as we sit at the kitchen table to eat our dinner. I’d actually cooked tonight—a rare occurrence in this household. I view myself more as an assembler of meals rather than a cook per se, other than my famous pumpkin pie, of course, which is a total labor of love. The fact that I roasted a chicken, complete with potatoes, pumpkin, and broccoli is no small feat.
“What’s a matchmaker?” Benny asks. “Oh, I know. It’s like that box of matches above the fireplace. Can you make those, Mommy?”
“That’s not what it is,” Hannah declares confidently, so much wiser at her eight years of age.
“What is it then, sweetie?” Clara asks her, no doubt stalling for time.
“It’s when someone can see that two people love each other and so they put them together so they will live happily ever after.” Hannah smiles at us all, satisfied with her surprisingly accurate and mature definition.
“Wow, sweetie. You’ve got that spot on,” Clara says as she lovingly smooths down her daughter’s hair. “I’ve got a couple of smart kids. Don’t I, Aunt Kiki?”
“You sure do,” I reply with a smile. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” I take a bite of roasted potato. It’s surprisingly good, considering I cooked it. Not as good as Mom’s, of course, but nothing I make is.
“Can’t you allow your poor sister a little entertainment from her sick bed?” Clara replies, pulling out the CFS card.
I shake my head. “Oh, no. You can’t pull the sick card on me, sis. You’re definitely matchmaking us.”
“Who? Who is mommy matchmaking you with? Who do you love?” Hannah demands.
I give Clara a look. “Your mom knows.”
“Who, Mommy?” Hannah asks.
“Just the perfect man for your aunt. They used to date in high school, and they were the cutest couple back then, and by the looks of things, at least one of them wants to be a cute couple once more, if a certain number on a jersey is anything to go by.”
Hannah looks at her mom blankly.
“Maybe we should take this conversation offline?” I suggest, and thankfully Clara agrees, and she drops the topic until it’s just her and me in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner.
“And?” she leads.
“And what?”
“You know exactly what. You and Dan.”
I press my lips together as I wipe a tea towel across a cleaned dinner plate. “There is no me and Dan.”
“I know there isn’t right now, but there should be. Not only is he teaching Benny how to play hockey, but he came by here to give you his jersey with your birthdate on it. How much more obvious does he have to get?”
“He gave all of us his jersey.”
“Only because he wants you to wear it.”
“I would be a fool to pin my hopes on something like that. Most of the town will be wearing Dan’s jersey at the games. He’s the small-town guy made good in the NHL, after all. ‘Dan the Man.’”
She gives me a satisfied smile, so I busy myself with drying off another dinner plate. “You do realize you’ve just given away how you feel about the guy.”
Busted.
I turn to face her. “How I feel about him is completely irrelevant. He’s only here in town for six weeks, and then he’ll be gone.”