Page 45 of Ice Cold Hearts
As we settle into our seats in the team box, I feel myself relax for the first time all day. My parents are over the moon, Audrey didn’t have a meltdown when our plans changed, and I am at my first hockey game in about five years.
I’d sworn off hockey (and hockey players), much to my dad’s dismay, after my confrontation with Liza when I was pregnant. I wouldn’t even visit their house if they had a game on. Now that I’m here, immersed in the pregame buzz of the stadium, I realize just how much I’ve missed it. Sure, I might have watched every Cold Hearts game on T.V. since I met Alexei, but it’s nothing like actually being there.
Even when I did go to hockey games, I’d never gotten seats this good. The team box has perfectly positioned seats so you can catch all the action, and farther back in the room are tables, a bar—bartender included—and a television that’s bigger than me so you don’t miss a minute.
“Mama, Penguins!” Audrey squeals excitedly, tugging at my jacket.
All I see is the Cold Hearts’ mascot dancing around on the ice.
“Honey, that’s a heart, not a penguin. Why don’t we look at the animal book I brought in your bag and we can compare them?” I say, silently worrying that she might need her eyes checked.
“No, not out there.” She sighs exaggeratedly. “There!”
Audrey jabs her little finger at the back of the room where tuxedo-clad catering staff are laying out the food.
I’m able to suppress my laugh but not my smile.
“Those are waiters. They bring us food. Are you hungry?” I ask.
“Can I go see the penguins?” Audrey asks breathlessly.
Maybe I should get her ears checked because that girl didn’t hear a damn thing I said.
“Sure.”
I take her little hand and walk toward the back, making sure to stop far enough off that we’re not in the way.
“See, Audrey, they’re waiters. They brought us all food to share. Is there anything that looks yummy?”
Quick as a wink, she slips her hand from mine and dashes toward the nearest “penguin” and throws her arms around their legs.
“Audrey, no ma’am,” I scold, then to the waiter, “I’m so sorry, Mr.…?”
“Connelly,” he supplies.
“I love you,” Audrey declares.
“Um…” he says, looking at me like a deer in the headlights.
“Audrey, do you remember the rules about hugging?” I prompt.
She lets go immediately and steps back. “You gotta ask first.” Her face falls. “I’m sorry, Mr. Penguin.”
He laughs. “Penguin?”
“The suit,” I answer, shaking my head. “Right now, anything black and white is a penguin.”
He nods at me then looks down at Audrey. “If I were a penguin, Miss, would I do this?”
To her supreme delight, he starts waddling around and honking. Her giggles have everyone nearby smiling.
“That’s what penguins do.” She beams.
“I bet you could do it too,” he encourages.
Audrey darts back to me and grabs my pants leg, suddenly shy.
“Will you do it too?” she asks, looking up at me with pleading eyes.