Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Eddie said they had different teachers at school and they didn’t always see each other for recess, but the bus routine was set in stone. That didn’t mean Eddie wasn’t good about rolling with change. It just took him a little longer to process things and he tended to go eerily silent, content to scribble his thoughts on paper if he felt the need to communicate at all.
Like me, Mom did whatever necessary to avoid the silent treatment.
She’d even agreed to learn American Sign Language. Eddie became obsessed after he saw a movie where the characters signed. One of his instructors suggested enrolling him in a class and in a twist, my kid brother was now a signing machine. Mom had taken online lessons so they’d have alternate means of communication, and she’d talked me into learning too.
I was fucking hopeless at it. And while I hated sucking at anything, I loved making Eddie laugh.
I pasted an over-the-top grumpy growl on my mug as the giggling freckle-faced sixteen-year-old corrected my efforts.
“You do it wrong. Like this.” Eddie pointed at his chest and repeated the hand motion. “I like hockey. Now you.”
“I like hockey.”
Uproarious laughter.
Okay, I’d signed “I like monkeys,” but like I said, I was a sucker for that laugh. It squeezed my chest and made me grin like a fool. Damn, I loved this kid.
“You said monkey. Do it again.”
Ten minutes later, I’d exhausted every noun I’d learned. Plane, train, dog, cat, flower, surfboard, ocean. Eddie wouldn’t let a repeat slide, but I was also aware that teasing skirted the delicate line into impatience and frustration. I didn’t want to upset Eddie…ever.
I wanted him to be happy. Only happy. I wanted a smile on his face twenty-four-seven, and if that meant turning up the goofball meter, so be it.
On my final attempt, I did it correctly and was rewarded with Eddie’s sunniest grin. He was all cheeks with big dimples, and his eyes disappeared in crinkles of joy.
I beamed, propping my head on a pillow in Denny and Hank’s guest room. “Pretty good, eh?”
“Yes. Keep pr-pr-practicing. Now, I have to go. G-good-bye, Mason. Oh, wait. H-how was the parade? Did you like it?” he asked, pushing the fringe of his light-brown hair from his eyes.
“Yeah, it was fun. It would have been more fun if you’d been there. Maybe next year?”
“No, thank you. I’m…I’m too sh-shy,” Eddie stuttered, quickly adding, “What are you doing tomorrow?”
The kid was a master of deflection. If he didn’t want to do something, he diverted conversation like a pro.
“I’m going camping for two days.”
“Th-that will be fun.”
I smiled at his polite commentary. “Maybe. I dunno. I’ll be with strangers and a guy who doesn’t like me very much.”
Eddie frowned. “Why doesn’t he like you?”
“Well…sometimes I kid around, and he doesn’t like my jokes.”
“Oh. Could you be nicer?”
Yuck, no, was my first thought. Or maybe Fuck, no. But the mature big brother in me surfaced in the nick of time. “Yeah, I’ll try.”
Eddie grinned proudly. “Good job, Mr. Cool.”
“Mr. Cool?” I snorted at his teasing nickname for me.
“Yes, Mr. Cool.”
“Gee, thanks, buddy. Hey, I’ll see you soon. Seven more days, and I’ll be home for a whole month. Love you, Eddie.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “You are mushy.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Maybe a little.”
He signed “I love you,” smiling his approval at my correct reciprocal hand signal. Then, as per tradition, Eddie added, “To the farthest star in the galaxy and beyond,” and disconnected the call.
I closed my laptop, staring into space for a moment as a sweet wave of good juju swept over me. Eddie was good for me. He reminded me that there were beautiful things and genuine people in the world.
And I had to admit, it was nice to know that if I forgot how to play hockey tomorrow, there’d be at least one person out there who’d still think I was a winner.
That person was not Jake Milligan.
“Where’s your hat?”
I gave him the WTF look he deserved and waggled my sunglasses. “I don’t need a hat. I’ve got shades, and what do you care if I have a hat?”
Okay, that was testy and not exactly…nice, but Christ, this guy got on my nerves.
We’d arrived at Elmwood Rink bright and early this morning for a meet and greet with our campers before we set out in vans to Lake Norman for day one on the trail. And by early, I mean really fucking early. I’d done myself a solid by grabbing an extra-large latte on the way…and by not showing up hungover.
The post-parade parties had been epic yesterday. There’d been a town barbecue in the park with wholesome activities like face-painting and ring tosses, and the diner had hosted a burger and shake bash. Later that night, there’d been a private get-together at Smitty and Bryson Milligan’s house for Denny’s family, close friends, and any Denver teammates who’d happened to be in town. Like me.