Forever Pucked(35)

We catch them on the stairs. My dad looks like he's trying to hump her from behind.

"Hey, where are you guys going?"

My mom startles and moves to the next step, away from my dad. "Oh, Alex!  I didn't expect you two to be awake! We were taking your dad's bag to  the room."

I glance at the front door where my dad's suitcase sits. "Kinda helps if you take it with you."

"Oh! Oops! Well, that's okay. We can do it later."

My dad doesn't seem all that excited about doing it later. He looks more  annoyed than anything, but he comes back down the stairs, turning on a  smile for Violet.

"Hi, sweetheart. How's your week been? Alex is a mopey shit when he's  not feeling well. I hope he hasn't been driving you insane." He pulls  her into a hug and shoots a glare at me over her shoulder.

"He's been good, keeping the moping to a minimum for the most part."

My mother clears her throat like she's choking on something. I haven't been that bad. I don't think.

He whispers something to Violet, and she chuckles.

I turn my attention back to my mom, who's come down the stairs to join  us. She's touching her hair, twirling it around her finger like Sunny  often does when she's nervous or thinking. She looks ten years younger.

"Wow, Mom, you look great."

"Doesn't she?" My dad checks out my mom the way I do Violet after I've  been at a series of away games-like I want to get her naked and do dirty  things to her. It's a little weird. They must've been on their way  upstairs to get their freak on before we stopped them.

My dad hugs me and grumbles something about me being a cockblocker, then  slaps me on the back, making me groan. He eases up. "Still pretty  sore?"

"It's getting better."

He nods and doesn't push me to say anything else, which is good, because  talking about how long it's going to take to recover from this injury  puts me in a bad mood. After the first couple of days I was sure I'd be  fine by the end of the month. But considering the slow progression this  week, and the reading I've done, I'm starting to come to terms with the  fact that I'll be on the bench quite a while. I can't even start rehab  for at least two more weeks, and that'll be limited to the recumbent  bike and lower body only. Dislocated shoulders are almost as bad as  broken bones, and concussions as serious as mine mean a significant  recovery period. Next season has never seemed so far away.

My dad and I sit at the island and eat the fruit platter Violet's  preparing while my mom puts fresh bread in the oven to bake. My dad eats  the fruit almost as quickly as Violet cuts it up. Everyone should be  here soon. Along with Violet's parents, my sister and Miller, Charlene,  Darren, Lily, and Randy are all coming over. Lance might even stop by. I  have a newfound respect for him since he was benched for five games  after beating the shit out of Cockburn.                       
       
           



       

On the other hand, I'm feeling ambivalent about Randy's recent string of  goals. The team has won the last two away games, thanks to his superior  skills. As good as that is, it's not so good for my position when I  return to the ice. I'll be at tomorrow's home game, even though it means  warming the bench and watching Ballistic get all my ice time.

Skye and Sidney are the first to arrive, and Skye freaks out about my  mom's hair. It's weird to see two grown women get that excited about  anything, let alone hair, but the attention seems to make my mom happy.

Sid gives me a light back pat while Violet hugs her mom and they talk about how awesome my mom's hair is.

I'm nervous about our moms being together today, because it's unlikely  they'll be able to stop themselves from asking Violet about the wedding.  She may have mentioned it of her own accord this morning, but I don't  want anyone to push it. Not if I'm finally making headway.

I've already asked my mom not to bring it up, because we've got enough going on, but that doesn't mean Skye won't say something.

"I brought some things!" Skye sets a bag of groceries on the counter.  It's not actually a bag of groceries. It's orange juice and several  bottles of champagne.

"Mimosas!" my mom says, clapping excitedly.

I'm not so sure Skye is the best influence on my mother. Skye likes to  drink, and she can hold her liquor. My mom, on the other hand, tries to  keep up but gets sloppy a lot faster. This should be an interesting  meal.

Violet chops up a pineapple while her mom gets out champagne glasses and  starts mixing drinks. Violet almost chops off one of my dad's fingers  because he can't seem to wait until she puts the fruit on the plate.

"Robbie! Be careful! You need those fingers," my mom admonishes.

Skye whispers something in my mom's ear, and the two of them giggle like teenage girls.

Violet rolls her eyes and keeps chopping. She stabs a chunk with a  toothpick and reaches across the island. Instead of taking it, I bite it  off the toothpick.

"Looks like the Waters men are interested in getting some action later. You should get on that, too, Sidney." Skye winks at him.

"Mom, please."

"What?" Skye takes a sip of her drink, testing it out. "Too much orange juice."

"Can we please have one family get-together without me needing therapy afterward?" Violet mutters.

"I didn't say anything."

"Mom..."

"Well, you know what they say about pineapple," Skye whispers.

My mom cocks her head to the side and twirls her hair around her finger.

Violet speaks before Skye can. "Seriously. Please do not tell Daisy that  pineapple makes jizz taste better. It doesn't. That's a lie some man  made up so that women will willingly swallow a load of splooge."

Sidney slaps the counter. "I think we should go sit down in the living room and let the girls do their thing."

My dad grabs the fruit tray and follows him. Violet shoots me a look  that tells me she's not going to be all that excited if I leave, but I  shrug and push away from the island. There's no way I'm staying for a  conversation about the taste of jizz.





13


Conversations We

Should Never Have



VIOLET





Alex backs out of the kitchen, leaving me to deal with my mom and Daisy  and conversations about pineapple-flavored jizz, as there's no one else  here yet to act as a buffer. After all my efforts and sweating this  morning, I'm less than impressed with Alex's choice to escape.  Thankfully Charlene and Darren show up shortly thereafter.

They stop in the kitchen to say hello, but Darren soon disappears into  the living room with the rest of the men. On the way out he spears a  piece of pineapple from the cutting board and shoves it into his mouth.  My mom and Daisy start giggling again, of course. The two of them have  already polished off half a pitcher of mimosas. I haven't even touched  mine. If I'm going to set a wedding date today-or at least commit to  setting one-I'm damn well going to be sober. That way no one can talk me  into doing something I don't want to. Like having it televised.

"Charlene, maybe you can help us out," my mom announces. "Violet thinks  pineapple doesn't change the taste of … " She gestures to her crotch  meaningfully. "But Daisy and I disagree."

"You don't have to answer that," I jump in. "In fact, it's probably  better if you don't encourage these two." I narrow my eyes at the moms.

My mom tsks me. "Since when have you become such a prude, Violet?"                       
       
           



       

"Prude? Seriously? Are there no boundaries here? Since when is it  appropriate to talk about the flavor of jizz with my mom and my fiancé's  mother?"

"I think it's a perfectly normal discussion. Don't you, Daisy?" My mom looks to Alex's mom for confirmation.

"I think it's great that you and Violet have such an open relationship,  Skye," Charlene says with an evil smile. "I wish I could talk to my mom  about this kind of stuff, but she's kind of reserved."

I kick Charlene, so she pinches my side. Her mom isn't reserved at all.

My mom puts her hand on Charlene's shoulder. "You know you can always  talk to me about these kinds of things, sweetie. I had a lot of fun  before I settled down with Sidney, if you know what I mean."

"Robbie's the only man I've ever been with." Daisy's doing that twirling thing again with her hair.

My mom is definitely on the road to drunk, based on how touchy she's  become. She pulls Daisy into a side-hug. "Since I already know the apple  doesn't fall far from the tree in the package department, I can see why  you would've claimed Robbie as soon as you could!"

"It was a little scary the first time."

"For the love of-" The doorbell rings. "I'll get that!" I yell, already  on the move. Right about now I'd accept a stitchable laceration to get  out of this dick discussion.