Playing to Win(19)

       
           


       

Holly smiled as she shook the man's hand. He had only a hint of white  at the temples of his dark hair. It made him look very distinguished.  She could see Luke in him: the strong nose, the kind eyes, the rugged  jaw.

Luke's smile, though-his real smile-that was all Cathy.

"Well, let's not just stand in the doorway! Luke, you take Holly's bag  up to my knitting room." She turned to Holly. "It's actually a little  suite over top of the garage, so you'll have lots of privacy and your  very own bathroom. I already made up the bed for you."

Luke caught Holly's eye and grinned at the way Cathy had subtly  stressed that the room was for her and her alone. "Sure thing, Mom."  Grabbing both their bags, he leaned over and kissed Cathy's cheek, and  Holly was enchanted at the joy sparkling in his mom's eyes.

As Luke headed back outside and toward the detached garage, Cathy tucked Holly's arm into hers and pulled her into the kitchen.

The highly varnished wooden table was littered with official-looking  envelopes emblazoned with the logo of a prominent bank in the top  left-hand corner. Some of them had ominous red stamps that said Final  Notice on them.

"Oh my. Please excuse the mess!" Cathy rushed over to the table and  began stacking the notices into a disordered pile, but not before Holly  noticed that Luke's name appeared on some of them, along with his  parents'. Huh.

"Ross and I were just paying some bills before you arrived." Cathy  dumped said "bills" into the shoebox on the table and replaced the lid.  Only then did her smile regain its genuine warmth of earlier.

"Now let's get some food into you. I just finished making coconut gumdrop cookies-they're Luke's favorite."

The afternoon sped by. The Maguires were warm, attentive hosts, and  although Ethan did not make an appearance, Holly was drawn in by their  obvious closeness. Luke seemed more relaxed here, and she liked knowing  that this side of him existed-that he wasn't uptight and serious all the  time.

And yet, she couldn't help but notice the blatant hockey void in the  conversation. Hours of chatting had gone by with no mention of Luke's  play-off run, or anything hockey related whatsoever. Considering Luke's  entire world revolved around the sport right now, she found the omission  very odd. She found herself growing indignant on his behalf that his  parents didn't make more of a fuss about him.

"I'm going to go check on dinner," Cathy announced. "Luke, why don't  you show Holly to her room, in case she wants to freshen up before we  eat. I've practically held her hostage all day. I'm sure she'd  appreciate a moment to herself."

Holly smiled at the false summation of their day, but the prospect of  stealing a few moments alone with Luke was too great to pass up.

"Actually, Luke, I'd rather see your old room."

* * *

LUKE LED HER down the hallway to his childhood bedroom. There was still  a wooden sign on the door with a hockey player and his name printed in  primary colors. He'd picked it out himself in the second grade. A normal  kid probably would have taken it down when he was thirteen or fourteen,  but at fourteen, Luke had already been billeting with other families  and playing in the minor leagues, trying to become the best.

Ethan had been coming up fast on his heels, a definite hockey superstar  in the making, and it had pushed Luke to excel. He was proud of his  little brother, but he was also competitive enough that he didn't want  to be surpassed, either.

As always, his room was just how he'd left it. His parents had talked  about turning it into a reading room, but they'd never gotten around to  it. Maybe that was something he should do for them for Christmas...send  his parents on a trip somewhere and get the room renovated. Just a  little something to put a smile on their faces. God knew they deserved  it.

"Wow, check it out. A glimpse into the life of a young Luke Maguire."  She meandered around the room, staring at inscriptions on trophies and  titles on book spines. He spent the moments looking at her. He liked  casual Holly, barefoot and clad in jeans and a black T-shirt, her blond  ponytail swinging behind her as she snooped around his room.                       
       
           


       

He thought it'd been the short skirt and push-up bra and teased-out  hair that had pulled him in, but if he was being honest with himself, he  found her much prettier and more alluring today than ever before.

He was curious about the attraction they shared. It burned hot and  bright and yet it wasn't all passion. They'd had a great trip down,  conversing easily and laughing the entire hour and change that it had  taken to get here. He enjoyed her company, both in and out of the  bedroom.

"Yearbook!"

"What? No!" Luke did his best to mask the panic in his voice, knowing  that would only encourage her. "You don't need to look at...too late."

She was already nose deep in the glossy pages, in search of childhood embarrassment.

"Is this you? Oh my God, you had a mullet!" She flipped the yearbook  around to show him, pointing gleefully at his photo, as if he didn't  remember what he'd looked like.

"I did not have a mullet."

Her pretty mouth hitched up on one side, and he was a goner. "Photographic evidence begs to differ."

"I had a flow. It's totally different. That is a well-respected and  timeless hockey haircut. Jaromír Jágr had that exact hairdo."

She laughed as she shut the book and set it on the end table. "Check  out this place. You ate, slept and breathed hockey, huh?" He followed  her gaze around the room-old hockey trophies and medals dominated the  shelves above his desk, along with a couple of hockey biographies and an  impressive collection of Don Cherry's Rock'em Sock'em Hockey videos.

"Wayne Gretzky, Mario Lemieux and Bobby Hull." She pointed at each of  the faded, curling posters he'd tacked to the wall so very long ago.  "Dreaming of the day when you'd have a poster of your own?"

"You know it." Luke tried to keep the frown out of his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Wayne Gretzky, sure, his 99 was showing after all, and Mario Lemieux's  name was printed on the poster. But Bobby Hull? Would someone who didn't  have the first clue about hockey recognize him? He seemed a little too  niche.

It was on the tip of his tongue to call her out on it, but he swallowed  his retort. He wasn't going there. No, he was done being suspicious. He  liked this girl. She was funny and beautiful and he enjoyed her  company. He was done looking for flaws and investigating her every move.

Being home always reminded him that things could change for the worse  in a split second. And it would be a disservice to forget to enjoy the  things he had. Because he was all too aware that it could all disappear  in an instant.

"Instead of posters, I had a signed picture of Barbara Walters on my wall," she said.

Luke smiled at the odd choice. "Really?"

Holly nodded. "It was my mom's. She was an anchor on the six o'clock  news. Barbara was her hero, too. Every weeknight, my family would eat  dinner in front of the TV and watch Mom tell us about the day's events.  And at the end of the hour, she'd tuck her hair behind her right ear and  that was our signal. Her little code that she loved us and she knew we  were watching."

Her smile was sad, but beautiful, and Luke was glad she'd trusted him with it.

"When she died of breast cancer, my father let me hang the Barbara  picture in my room. I'd look at it every night and promise my mom that  one day I'd be a reporter on TV, just like her, and then I'd tuck my  hair behind my right ear so that she knew I was thinking about her."

"And that's why you do what you do," he said, adding a few more pieces to the puzzle that was Holly.

"That's why."

"I'm sorry about your mom."

She shrugged as she sat on his childhood bed. "It was a long time ago. And it's nice to remember the good stuff."

"Kids! Dinner's ready! Wash your hands."

Luke and Holly shared a smile at his mother's summons, and he took  comfort in the fact that, even in the midst of constant flux, some  things never changed.

* * *

"TAKE A SEAT! Holly, you can sit beside Luke over here," his mom directed. She set a roast chicken on the table.                       
       
           


       

"Everything looks fantastic, Cathy. Thank you so much for having me."

His mother preened under Holly's praises. Luke hadn't seen his mom this  animated in a long time. "Oh, it's our pleasure. It's just so nice to  see Lucas happy."