Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Grace

" W hat happened?" I ask when I get home and see my mother's face.

It's her face, but it's not her face.

"I tried clearing out that old garden beside the shed and I got poison ivy in my eyes."

"What?" I say, staring at her in shock. She's lying in bed with both of her eyes puffed up. Like, seriously puffed up. They're red, puffy, and almost swollen shut.

"I must have had it on my hands and then wiped my eyes with it."

"We have to go to the emergency room," I tell her. I'm already grabbing her purse and reaching for my phone.

"I already got checked," she says. "My doctor came by and saw me this morning. She said there's nothing to worry about. It's just swollen. She said the swelling should go down in a day or two. "

"A day or two?" I say, staring at her in shock. "Can you even see?"

"A little bit. It's all blurry in the mirror. How do I look?"

"You look like you got into a fight with Connor McGregor."

She laughs. "You should see his face."

"You know that scene in Hitch?" I say, trying not to crack up.

"No way," she says, laughing too. "That bad?"

"Probably worse."

She shakes her head and laughs. "Take a picture."

I grab my phone and she gives me a big happy smile, which looks so hilarious with her big puffy eyes that I start crying laughing. I feel bad for her, but if she's going to be okay, it's pretty hilarious. Plus, my mom is the type of woman who laughs at everything. Nothing gets her discouraged.

"Don't you have that fundraiser with dad tonight?" I ask, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"I did," she says. "I'm not going now. I look ridiculous and I can't see. I'll probably walk right off the yacht in front of everyone."

"Yeah, but maybe a hot Italian billionaire will pull you out."

"Pull me out looking like a dead fish?"

"A dead fish with puffy eyes."

She grins. "And great tits."

I grab a pillow and throw it at her.

She got breast implants last year and loves them.

The front door opens and my mom winces.

"Hello!" Dad bellows through the house.

"Does he know about this?" I ask.

Mom shakes her head. "He was at work and I didn't have the heart to tell him."

"I think he's going to find out when he walks in and sees you looking like a Star Wars character. "

She laughs. "What kind of Star Wars character? Leia in the hot bikini or strange alien creature?"

"Definitely hot Leia," I say.

I hear my dad throw his keys on the counter downstairs. "Lynn?" he calls out. "Are you home?"

"I'm up here," Mom hollers back. She winces as she looks at me. "Can you go prepare him?"

I take a deep breath as I look her over one last time. "I'll do my best."

My heart is racing as I run out of the room and down the hall. Dad is walking up the stairs. He lights up when he sees me.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says as I meet him halfway on the staircase. He wraps his big arms around me and gives me a bear hug. He's the best dad in the world.

I know he's always had a soft spot for me. I'm his only child and even though I'm twenty-two, he still sees me as his baby girl.

I don't mind. It's kind of nice and comforting. I play into it a bit sometimes. Especially when I have a big favor to ask.

"Hi, Daddy," I say in the cute voice he loves so much. "How was work?"

"Exciting as always," he says with a warm smile. "Is your mother getting ready for the party? We can't be late."

His eyes dart up the stairs. He goes to take a step around me, but I block his path.

He looks at me funny. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

I take a deep breath. "Mom is fine."

"Okay," he says, suddenly on edge. "What happened?"

"She got some poison ivy on her face."

"What?!" he charges past me and runs up the stairs. "Lynn! Lynn! Where are you?"

It's so sweet how worried he gets. I know he loves her so much.

I race after him as he runs down the hall to their bedroom .

"Lynn!" he says, stopping short in the doorway when he sees her. "Oh my god! Baby, what happened?"

"That malicious devil plant attacked my face," Mom says with a bitter look. "It attacked and it won."

"We have to get you to a hospital," he says, bursting into action. He runs into their walk-in closet and grabs a bag.

"She already saw a doctor," I tell him.

"I'm fine," Mom says with a long exhale. "Besides looking like a monster and having the itchiest eyes in human history, I'm fine."

He drops the bag and races to the bed to sit beside his wife. "You're always beautiful to me," he says as he cradles her and kisses the top of her head.

"Yeah, right," she says with a laugh, but she sinks into his arms and lets him hold her.

I love watching them together. They're so sweet.

Growing up, I always knew my parents were soulmates. They were always so in love. Holding hands while going on walks, dancing around the kitchen to David Gray songs, leaving cute little love notes to each other around the house—that's what I was exposed to growing up.

They were great role models for a perfect relationship, but that always put so much pressure on me. I mean, true love like that only happens to a select few. What if I wasn't one of the lucky ones? What if I wasn't as fortunate as they were?

I think it actually stopped me from dating.

Any guy who ever showed a lick of interest in me was always compared to that unrealistic standard. Could this guy be my soulmate? The answer was always no, so I didn't show any interest back.

Now, I'm a twenty-two-year-old virgin who's never even kissed a guy. I'm beginning to think that my parents' perfect love affair was a fluke. An anomaly.

I'm starting to think I should start lowering my standards.

But how can I when I've been watching this my entire life ?

"I'm not going to the fundraiser tonight," my father says as he holds my mother tighter.

"Oh, don't be silly," Mom says. "You told the whole team it's mandatory. You can't flake out on them."

"Oh, yes I can."

"No, you can't. I'll be fine. I'll have a drink and go to bed early. No big deal."

"I don't want to leave you."

"You just don't want to go alone," Mom says with a smirk. "I know you hate those things."

Dad sighs as the reality sinks in. He's going to have to go to a cocktail party by himself. Usually, he just hides behind my mom and lets her work her magic.

"It's going to be a huge fundraiser," Dad says. "So many important people there and I'm going to have to talk to all of them."

"I'm sorry, Dad," I say, feeling horrible for him. "The timing sucks."

He looks at me, but then he doesn't look away.

I start to get a worried tingly feeling inside and then it clicks.

"Oh no," I whisper.

"Please!" he says, practically begging already. "I'm the coach. I have to go and you know I'm not good at working a room."

"You're good!" I squeak out in a high-pitched voice.

"I'm good at yelling at the room or barking orders at the room," he says, "but not working it. That's your mother's specialty."

"Right now, I'd be good at clearing out a room," Mom says.

"But… I don't have anything to wear and my hair isn't done!"

"Your mother has a closet full of dresses you can pick from," Dad says with his voice racing. "And your hair looks perfect already."

My mouth opens so I can give him a very valid reason why I can't possibly attend, but I come up with nothing.

It's three hours away. A night surrounded by rich snobs. Hours of listening to people talking about hockey. Oh god…

"The Hyenas are going to be there," Mom says in a teasing tone.

"Really?" I say, my heart starting to race. "Which ones?"

"All of them if they know what's good for them," Dad says in his stern coach voice.

"Is Nolan Barlowe going to be there?" Mom asks.

Damn. She knows I have a crush on him.

I shoot her a look, but she can't see it with her puffed-up eyes.

"Yes," Dad says, looking at her skeptically. "Why?"

"Just curious," Mom says with a shrug.

His eyes narrow on me. "He's off-limits. I don't want you dating a hockey player."

"Mom asked, not me," I say, putting my hands up.

He grunts in disapproval.

Well, if Nolan Barlowe is going to be there…

I'm starting to come around to the idea.

I've had a big crush on him since he signed with the Hyenas. He's so hot.

I've never had a thing for hockey players, but there's something about goalies. They're the last line of defense, the anchor of the team. They're so fearless the way they stand in front of a hard galvanized puck traveling over a hundred miles per hour. It's sexy.

And Nolan is the sexiest of them all.

"What's the dress code?" I ask.

"Fancy," Dad says. "Black ties and nice dresses."

"Okay, I'll go," I say with a firm nod. I can't pass up seeing Nolan Barlowe in a fitted suit. That will definitely be worth all the trouble .

"Really?" Dad says, lighting up. "Thank you so much, sweetheart!"

He runs over and hugs me.

Mom yanks off the blankets and gets out of bed.

"Come on, Grace," she says as she waves me over to her closet. "I'll help you pick out a dress before my eyes swell completely shut."