Darkroom: A Moo U Hockey Romance by Kate Willoughby (reading a book .txt) 📕

had a reputation for kooky home remedies and I suspected his miracle cures were cousins of the many idiosyncratic superstitions hockey players were known for.

“Thanks for the advice,” I said. “I’ll keep all that in mind.”

“Except that sounds like it wastes a lot of water,” my little twelve-year-old cousin said. “You should save the water in pots and water your plants or cook pasta with it. Or you could put it in your washing machine and turn the dial directly to ‘agitate.’”

“That’s a very smart idea, Megan,” I said. “The world needs more socially responsible problem solvers like you.”

“What about me?” Megan’s little brother demanded. “I want to be needed.”

As several members of the family reassured him about his own individual strengths, my organic tea swilling aunt asked Indi about her major and plans for the future.

“I’m planning to apply to medical school,” she answered.

“Indi’s going to be a surgeon so she can go abroad and repair cleft palates and cleft lips on children,” I said proudly.

“Like Doctors Without Borders?” my mom asked.

“Yes, like that,” Indi said. “I’m taking the MCAT at the end of January so right now it’s all about the studying.”

My dad nodded. “Exactly. When you have important career goals, you need to keep your priorities straight. You need to study, study, study just like Hudson has to focus on hockey.”

“Dom, don’t,” my mom said.

“Don’t what? I’m just talking big picture. She needs to understand what’s what. Hudson has an amazing career ahead of him, if he keeps his nose to the grindstone. Even though he was drafted in the first round, that doesn’t guarantee him an NHL contract and no son of mine is going to molder in the farm league because he lost his head over a pretty face.”

No one spoke. Uncle Rick poured himself another glass of wine. My mom was glaring at my dad.

“Jesus, Dad,” I said. “First of all, Indi is so much more than a pretty face. She’s smart, she’s organized, she’s disciplined. She’s the kind of person who doesn’t just talk the talk, she walks the walk, and when she becomes an MD, there are going to be a lot of little kids whose lives will be changed because of her.”

Indi’s hand found mine and I squeezed it.

My dad sucked at his teeth, plainly unimpressed. “A regular Mother Theresa in the making. Except nuns take a vow of poverty and this young lady will be raking in the dough as a plastic surgeon. That’s the specialty needed for cleft palates, right? Same as boob jobs, nose jobs, face lifts, Botox. You can’t swing a cat in New York without hitting someone who’s had work done.”

“Stop it, Dad,” I said. “You’re the last person who should be criticizing someone for making a lot of money.”

“You’re absolutely right, son. I’m a lucky man. The NHL was very, very good to me and, if you keep your head on straight, it’ll be good to you too.”

30

Indi

“What the hell is wrong with you, Dad?” Hudson exclaimed, right at the dinner table. “You need to apologize to Indi right now.”

His dad struck an indolent pose, leaning his elbow on the arm of his chair and cocking his head. “For what?”

“For what?” Hudson ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Where do I start? The Mother Theresa comment… Saying she was just a pretty face.”

“That was a compliment,” his dad said.

“For suggesting she was only becoming a doctor for the money.”

“And for ruining Thanksgiving,” his mom said, which earned her a sidelong glance from her husband. “Honestly, I can’t believe you.”

Around the table were a variety of expressions from amused, to aghast, to eager. As for me, I was shocked.

Hudson had warned me there would be drama, but I’d thought he meant someone would drink a little too much and dredge up an old family issue or maybe pull a skeleton out of the closet. I’d thought I’d be a witness to the turmoil, not central to it.

With a heavy sigh, his dad shrugged. “All right. I’m sorry. I crossed the line there a little bit. Indi, sweetheart, will you forgive me?”

I mean, what choice did I have? I couldn’t exactly say no. But I couldn’t seem to voice a “yes” either. So I nodded once.

“There. See?” his dad said. “Everything’s fine now.”

I didn’t know the man well enough to know if he was truly sorry, but Hudson didn’t look like he bought it.

“I want dessert!” one of the young cousins demanded, breaking the awkward silence.

“By all means, let’s have dessert,” Marlene said with forced brightness.

After all the guests had gone and the caterers were cleaning up, Marlene said she had a migraine and sought refuge in her bedroom. I didn’t blame her. The barrage of sweets settled things down for the most part, but the tension never completely disappeared.

“I need to talk with my dad,” Hudson said. “Alone.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

“Indi, please. You thought what happened at the table was bad? That was my father being calm and calculated, which is obviously no walk in the park. Believe me, you do not want to be in there when he really gets going.”

“So there’ll be yelling.”

“Yes. And a lot of swearing.”

I scoffed. “I’m not a fragile flower, Hudson. I’ve been yelled at before.”

This was a complete lie. My parents were low key. The only time they ever raised their voices was at Slice when they needed to be heard over some racket in the restaurant. My aunts and uncles and cousins were cut from similar cloth. No one had ever shouted at me in anger, but I wasn’t about to let Hudson go beard the lion by himself.

“Not like this.”

“It won’t be as bad if we face him together.”

To my surprise, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. “God, I love you, woman,” he said into my hair. “Please say you love me too.”

“God, Hudson, I do love you. I’ve been in love with