Chapter 33

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lola

“Mom, Dad, I would like you to meet Lola.” Jordy introduces me.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Lola.” Jordy’s father shakes my hand. “I’m Ben, and this is my wife, Tamara.”

I shake their hands, hoping they don’t notice how damp my palm feels. “Nice to meet you too.”

Grinning at me, his dad asks, “Jordy tells me you’re keeping our Wade in check, and you recommended Jordan’s paintings to your friend who owns Spectrum Art Gallery?”

“Yes, to both,” I stammer, running my hand through my hair.

“We are very grateful. Thank you, Lola.” Tamara’s face remains stoic and doesn’t reflect her thankful words.

“Mom.” Jordy’s raised voice comes out more like a warning. “Play nice.”

Jordan’s mom crosses her arms. “I just think you could be using your brain on better things than hockey and drawings.”

“I’m an elite athlete and an artist,” Jordy spits back. His mom’s posture becomes stiffer. “You know what? I’m over this. It’s about time you got over the fact I chose to become a professional hockey player and not a doctor or lawyer. I’m sorry I’m such a huge disappointment to you.” Throwing his arms in the air as if defeated, he doesn’t sound like the Jordy I’ve come to know. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I say, but no one seems to hear me.

“Having this same conversation over and over again is becoming ridiculous, Mom.” Lucia, who has reappeared beside us, inserts herself into the conversation. “Jordy is hard working, dedicated and puts in hours of physical training every week. He puts himself through rigorous and often brutal games all season. If you can’t be happy for him, then why did you even bother coming tonight?”

If a genie in a lamp could grant me one wish, it would be for me to not be here right now.

I've never felt this uncomfortable.

Sofia adds her two cents. “Jordan is doing what he loves because he’s talented and it's what lights him up. This was his dream and you’re ruining it for him. And if you can’t see how much he uses his brain when he’s on the ice—assessing every cross check, out-thinking the opposition, executing split second and daring break aways and fake shots—then you haven’t been watching him play enough. Do better, Mom.”

As if unable to comprehend what’s happening, Jordy remains quiet and I can see the hurt written all over his face. But when his sisters look at him, he smiles. His whole expression changing, as if loving how they stood up for him.

Poor Jordy. I want to give him a hug and tell him how wonderful he is. His mother has some screwed up perception of what success looks like. It takes every ounce of willpower not to ask her why she can’t see how remarkable, gifted, and accomplished he is.

His sisters see all of his brilliance and love him as much as I do. Picking at the skin around my fingernails, I hope nobody notices my panicked thoughts. Because I care about him, more than I thought possible.

And scratch that… that’s not what I meant… I don’t love him.

Like him.

I like him.

“And he earns way more than any doctor I know.” Lucia puts an end to the conversation as she storms past their parents with her sister in tow. “We’re off to find our seats. You need to have a word with your wife, Dad.”

Do I stay? Go? What do I do?

“The girls are right, Tamara. You’re being unreasonable,” her husband informs her, wrapping his arms around her shoulder. Tamara sighs, making her shoulders deflate. “I’m… I’m sorry, son. What the girls said, they’re right. I’ve been terribly unsupportive.”

“I’m sorry you had to witness that, Lola,” Ben apologizes.

“I’m not.” Jordy’s jaw hardens. “This has got to stop, Mom. And you have to stop interfering in my love life.” Standing wide in his skates, Jordy leans on top of his stick with both hands. “I don’t love Sienna anymore.”

His words are like music to my ears.

Not that it means anything.

Nope.

Nothing at all.

We’re simply a no-strings-attached situationship.

There are no complications with us.

I won’t go there with him.

Want to.

Can’t.

Tamara exhales slowly. “You have my word. I won’t interfere anymore.”

“Deal?” Jordy asks for confirmation.

“Yes.” His mom sounds exasperated.

There’s a massive space of silence, and I do my best to avoid eye contact with all three of them.

“I should leave,” I say eventually, overly smiling wide. “It was lovely to meet you.” I wave awkwardly and go in search of Piper.

“She looks familiar. What did you say her name was again?” I hear Ben ask Jordy as I walk away.

“Lola. Lola Ramsay.”

I slow my steps so I can eavesdrop.

“Ritchie’s daughter?” Ben asks, my body going rigid.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I knew he would figure out who I am.

“Who’s Ritchie?”

“An old friend of mine. Why the hell is she working for the Eagles? She inherited everything when he died.”

“I don’t know. I would like to know that too,” Jordy mutters before I move out of earshot.

The off season needs to come sooner.