She stretched. It was Saturday, so for one morning she didn’t have to herd everyone out the door. She could hear Tommy in the living room, but there was no sound from Angie. Michelle pulled on her ratty robe and yawned her way to the kitchen. Two cereal bowls in the sink showed her that the kids had both gotten up and eaten. But the bowls also mocked her. Saturday morning and she hadn’t gotten up to make a good breakfast for her children. She wasn’t doing anything right. Her shoulders slumped.
She poured water into the coffeemaker with bleary eyes. They should do something fun this weekend. She’d rather spend the time studying, but the kids needed her attention, too. She flipped the laptop toward her, and typed in “cheap things to do in Toronto” while the coffee machine gurgled.
There was a knock at the door. Michelle wished she’d had a chance to ingest some coffee before dealing with whatever new problem was waiting for her on the other side of that door. Had the kids done something? Had Troy complained about Angie?
She opened the door to find Troy standing there. He was awake, alert, showered and dressed. He had no responsibilities, no problems and enough money to satisfy every whim. He was carefree while she was almost going under. She hated him in that moment.
“Can I help you?” she asked, trying to keep as little of the door open as possible. She hadn’t looked in a mirror yet; she had no idea what her hair was doing, or how bad the robe would look to him, but she would have placed a bet on “pathetic.”
Troy grinned. “Not a morning person, eh? I have something for you, if it’s okay.” There was a dip in his confidence, perhaps as he got a better look at her.
Michelle blinked. She really required coffee before dealing with this. “What is it?”
“Tickets to the game tomorrow. It’s only the preseason...”
Angie came bursting out of her room. She must have ears like a bat.
“Oh, Troy!” she squealed. “Really? Tickets?”
Michelle realized she couldn’t refuse them now. She could only fight so long. It probably wouldn’t help Angie resign herself to not playing this year, but she deserved a treat. They all did.
Troy eyed her questioningly. She gave him begrudging credit. He apparently had intended to get her approval first. Michelle shrugged. It was done now. And if he was giving them tickets, that gave them a weekend activity on the cheap. Unless they got some concession food...
Angie had grabbed the tickets and started drilling Troy with questions. The coffeemaker beeped. Michelle veered to the sound and asked Troy over her shoulder, “Coffee?”
She was surprised when Troy said yes, but she had no more brain cells firing until some caffeine got up there.
* * *
TROY WASN’T SURE why he said yes to the coffee. Michelle didn’t look like she’d meant the invitation, but Angie had lit up.
The girl was bouncing on her toes at the news she was going to a game. He warned her it was just the preseason, but she didn’t care. She had a million questions for him. He answered as best he could, since she didn’t always wait for an answer. He knew she’d been having a rough go of it without any hockey to play, and he didn’t want to make things harder for her. He hoped that Bridget could come up with some idea to get her to play.
He checked out the condo while Michelle poured out the coffee. This place was roughly the same size as his, but had a whole different vibe. Mrs. Epps definitely had old lady furniture. The couch was chintz, and the legs on the table were fussy, elaborately carved and curling. Troy preferred the clean lines on his stuff. Some of the old lady effect was offset by the kids’ debris scattered around.
Same basic layout as his condo, totally different feel. Maybe not as calm and soothing as his place, but it had something his clean lines were missing.
Michelle had to dig around in the cupboard for sugar for his coffee. She obviously took hers without. She set it out in front of him. As he stirred the spoon, he watched her wrap her hands around the mug as if she had just come in from the cold and was warming up. Her eyes drifted closed as she held it to her lips, and he could feel her pleasure as she savored that first caffeine hit. Her eyes opened, and he was annoyed to find himself self-conscious when she found him staring at her.
He noticed Tommy playing a video game with men in uniform running around killing each other. He wondered if that was really appropriate for a kid his age, but he didn’t think Michelle would appreciate his interfering. Angie wanted Tommy to switch to a hockey video game so they could all play, but Michelle looked like she was waiting for Troy to leave, and Troy didn’t want the kids to start fighting, even though he was tempted to agree. Michelle would blame him, and he was trying to improve relations with this family, not make things worse time with them.
So he offered to drive them to the game tomorrow.
Michelle frowned. “Don’t you have to be there early to get ready?”
“Yes! Could we go early with him and check out the arena?” Angie asked.
Troy held up his hands. “Whoa! I’m not going to be playing tomorrow.”
Both Michelle and Angie had disappointed faces, but probably for different reasons.
“The regulars aren’t playing tomorrow because we’re checking out the rookies and wannabes. I’ll get you seats for a regular season game later,” he promised, hoping he wouldn’t forget. Not that Angie would let him.
The girl perked up at the prospect of another game. “Are you going to be sitting with us, then?” she squeaked.
He hadn’t thought much past getting them close to Bridget, but now that Angie had brought up the idea, he did want to sit with them. Troy nodded. Angie cheered, but Michelle had a dazed expression, as if someone had hit her on the head. Hard.
TROY KNOCKED ON their door the next day and was almost bowled over by Angie. She had on a Team Canada shirt.
“I’d have worn my jersey but it’s from the Winnipeg Whiteout so Mom said that might not be polite,” she blurted.
Troy saw that Tommy had a similar T-shirt. He should have gotten some Blaze jerseys for the kids, he realized. That was stupid of him. Michelle was wearing a red sweater with jeans.
“Best I could do,” she said. “At least it’s the right color, isn’t it?”
It was. The Blaze colors were red, yellow and black. Red was definitely her color. It brought her face to life.
The sweater also hugged her figure much more closely than a jersey. And it was a pretty nice figure. With her hair flowing loose down around her shoulders, and without that stressed expression on her face, she looked good. Troy reminded himself that she wasn’t his type—he preferred blondes—and that she was a mother, and he wasn’t big on responsibility.
Troy took them over in his big black pickup. Michelle was in the front seat with him, but Angie was as close to a front seat passenger as was possible while being restrained by a seat belt in the backseat. Tommy was quiet, but appeared to be happy to be there.
Troy was able to park in the players’ lot, and took Michelle and her family in through the players’ entrance. Michelle tried to remain unimpressed, but Tommy’s eyes were wide and Angie couldn’t be still. Or quiet. She asked questions as if she’d been called up from the minors and was going to be playing here next week and needed to know every detail.
Troy had gotten them seats in the lower bowl so they could be close to the action, and so they’d be close to Bridget. But before they could get to their seats, he was stopped by fans, so he waved the family on. Angie looked disappointed, but Michelle shoved her forward. Troy felt oddly bereft as they left.
*