Breath Of The Heart (17 page)

"No, not at all. She remembered me from my competitive days."

"Make sure you take it easy tonight. We have to be fresh tomorrow."

I muffled a laugh. I was pretty sure I could show up in a full body cast and still win the tournament.

~~~~~~~

"How'd it go?" Zach asked when he picked me up. "That was pretty quick."

I started laughing, an uncontrollable fit of laughter that had me in tears. Zach watched in bewilderment as I tried to pull it together.

"I didn't realize the question was that funny."

I blotted my eyes and composed myself. "Zach, they are all pretty mediocre players. I'm not one to boast, but I could wipe the court with half of them. Honestly, I should be disqualified. It's not fair. One lady I watched could barely serve. She hit three quarters of her serves into the net. When we win – and we're going to win – I'm going to feel like I'm stealing their entry fees. It's not right."

"That bad?"

"I served a perfect game. My opponents didn't return a single one of my serves and that's after I took off half the heat."

Zach chuckled. "I can't wait to be your partner in our summer tournament fundraiser."

"Let me just say that I'm not proud of myself."

"I should have stuck around to see this asswhipping. Instead my horrible girlfriend had me slicing mushrooms and grating various cheeses."

"She sounds horrible."

"She totally is, but she's great in the kitchen and in another room," he said with a wink.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Walker."

"But it's so fun there."

"When is Brett coming?" I asked with a swift change of subject. I had to keep to my schedule and he wasn't going to distract me with any fooling around.

"He said around six."

That gave me some study time before he arrived. With all my new found physical activity, both with Zach and on the tennis court, I'd fallen behind in my history and English Lit class. I had a history paper due Monday that was only half-finished, and needed to start and finish a book for my Lit class. Mercifully I was up to date in everything else.

The moment we got home I started the dough and the tomato sauce. The dough had two hours to rise while the sauce had an hour to cook and an hour to cool. I'd start sautéing ground beef and chorizo around five-thirty. My plan was to eat around six-thirty, attempt to ingratiate myself with Brett for an hour then hit the books again.

"Want to screw around a bit?" Zach asked.

As much as I wanted to I informed Zach of the evening's itinerary which included him checking on the sauce every half hour and giving it a good stir.

"That's not nearly as fun as my idea."

"Sorry, but I have to hit the books."

My plan went ahead and by the time five-thirty rolled around I'd finished my history paper and read the first few chapters of my English Lit book. Food was a pleasant distraction. I put Zach to work chopping green and red peppers while I tackled the meat. When he was finished, his next task was onions.

"I hate chopping onions. They make me weepy."

I rolled my eyes and smacked him in the ass.

"Miss Andrews, are you getting fresh with me?"

"Mr. Walker, just get back to work. I'll get fresh with you later."

Zach buzzed Brett up just after six and went to greet him. I popped my head out the kitchen to wave, like people do when they're being polite. I had no opinion of Brett because I didn't really know him. Zach talked about him a lot, they played hockey and worked out together, but beyond that Brett was a face I barely remembered from the infamous cabin.

"Want a beer?" Zach asked him.

"Sure. Smells good in here."

"Pizzas from scratch, man."

They settled into the living room while I rolled out dough and put together two different pizzas. I slid them into the oven and grabbed a beer for myself.

I was about to join them in the living room but stopped. Would it be strange with me in there? What if they were discussing boy stuff? But where else was I going to go? Hide in the bedroom and be anti-social? I decided to go for broke. I flopped onto the recliner no one ever used and pretended that I hung out with them all the time. Six months ago I wouldn't have dreamt of doing something so bold. I listened to the conversation, trying to act natural. The subject was hockey.

"No way! Mason is not a thirty goal scorer. Maybe twenty, but that's only in a good year. He's not trade bait."

"Mason and add in that rookie Swede, and you can get a decent goalie," Brett retorted.

"What have you been smoking? Best bet they get rid of Halstrom and Mason and someone dangles a goalie."

"Trade deadline already? Time is flying by," I said.

Brett looked at me like I told him I had three boobs.

"She watches hockey," Zach added nonchalantly. "Football too. Not a huge basketball fan."

Brett recovered from the shock and returned to the debate. "Giving up Halstrom and Mason is too much. You can't give up two core defensemen."

"But Halstrom is always hurt," I added. "Who'd want someone so fragile?"

Brett's head whipped around to face me again. His brain was computing something before he spoke. "Exactly. She's right," he said cautiously like I'd suddenly attack him with my talons.

Cue my exit to check on pizzas and set the table since Zach had conveniently forgotten to. As I was putting out the plates and cutlery I saw Brett lean over to Zach and whisper something. Normally I would have been offended, but I decided not to worry or care what he had to say. Besides, if I asked Zach, he'd tell me later.

I pulled the pizzas out of the oven and let them rest a few minutes. I threw a frozen pie I'd made weeks before into the oven to bake. It wouldn't be ready for an hour, but I was sure they could wait.

I moved onto making a salad. While I didn't care if I won Brett over, I knew it mattered to Zach. Had I been too pushy with the hockey talk? I was only trying to make conversation. And if he didn't like me before, was there really anything I could do to make it worse?

I sliced up the pizza and called them. They jumped to their feet and Brett took a seat while Zach retrieved more beers. Brett took four pieces and piled them on his plate. He didn't touch the salad. He took a bite, then another.

"Shit, this is good pizza," he said.

"Told you," Zach said proudly.

"Any night you're making pizza, I'm free," Brett said, his blue eyes lighting up.

And then they went right back to hockey talk.

"You see that hit Pennington took? They say it's an upper body injury, but I heard it's his shoulder and he's out weeks," Brett said.

"Separation or his rotator cuff?" I asked.

"I hear it's a separation, but it's pretty bad."

"If it's a third degree separation, he's torn something. He's out at least six to eight weeks. I separated my shoulder and was out nearly a month."

"Oh yeah. You played hockey?"

"Competitive tennis. I separated my shoulder on an awkward fall and it hurt like hell. Thankfully I didn't tear anything."

"I didn't know you played tennis."

He seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say, like I was one of the boys. Kind of. "I quit a few years ago. I still play for leisure."

"That's cool."

They went back to hockey talk and I didn't say much else. I threw in the odd comment here and there, but I'd said enough. I think I'd gained some of his respect. They offered to clean up and I went back to studying. Overall I thought it went well.

Chapter Thirty-one

Emma

It came as no surprise that Helen and I made it to the finals. Our semi-final competition put up a valiant fight and even returned some of my serves after I'd toned them down to a manageable pace. For the finals on Sunday, the club had pulled out a set of five rows of bleachers and about twenty people had gathered to watch. Even Zach came to check it out.

"I think we can beat her," Helen said, her body vibrating with anticipation.

Think? I'd seen Sally Carruthers play. She was good, probably the best out there, but she wasn't going to beat us. "It's good to be optimistic," I said. Bursting Helen's competitive bubble was not on my agenda. Instead, it consisted of beating Sally's team in less than an hour, a celebratory lunch with Zach and Helen, then getting back to the apartment for last minute packing so we could be in Pine Falls by dinner.

"It's so nice your boyfriend came to watch us play. He's so handsome and polite. My lazy husband said he's sick of watching me lose."

Helen had met Zach when we arrived. He charmed her up by telling her how good he'd heard she was. She lapped up all the compliments like a school girl.

"When you bring home that trophy, he'll be sorry he missed this," I said.

We hit the court for some practice. Sally watched us from the far court, tapping her foot impatiently. She had on a pink designer tennis outfit and the latest shoes. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a neat pony tail. There wasn't a flaw about her. She called over the umpire for our match, a woman I hadn't seen before. They spoke a few minutes, the umpire nodding here and there. Their conversation ended and the umpire made a beeline for me. I let out a dreaded sigh. Was the guillotine about to drop? Had the loophole been found? The umpire, all five foot two of her, looked up at me.

"Ms. Andrews?"

"Yes."

"Please promise me you'll kick Sally Carruthers' ass!"

And off she went to her umpire chair. I let out a stunned giggle as Helen ran over to find out what was said.

"I think Sally tried to get me disqualified. The ump told me to kick her ass."

That's what we did in thirty-six minutes. Every serve Sally saw was to the best of my ability, save the one double fault. I showed mercy on her shell-shocked partner and when we won 6-0, 6-1, Helen cried. Tears were streaming down her face as she collapsed on the court like she'd won Wimbledon. I let her savor the moment then helped her to her feet. She bear-hugged me, thanking me over and over again.

I let her hoist the trophy to the cheers from the assembled crowd. Sally stormed off, her partner trudging behind.

"You know Helen's getting wasted tonight," Zach said after our quick lunch with her. It was Helen who rushed it. She had pictures to post on Facebook.

"I'm glad I could help her out. The prize money doesn't hurt." Prize money I insisted we split.

We stopped back at the apartment and Zach packed up his truck while I put the last of my things together. Spring break in Pine Falls was exactly what I needed yet I couldn't shake the nerves. What if Dad and Grandpa didn't like Zach? I'd never brought home a guy before, let alone dated one. What would they do? Grill him relentlessly? Make him walk over hot coals? Tar and feather him? Zach could hold his own, but this was all an unknown.

"We ready?" Zach asked, standing in the doorway, an exasperated look on his face. I'd been a bit spastic since we'd gotten home, packing, repacking and adding things to my already overstuffed backpack.

"I think so."

We called out a goodbye to Genie who was on her phone. She waved and we were off. Pine Falls wasn't exactly a metropolis so I suggested Zach only come out a day or two but he said he'd keep his options open. Other than the hockey rink, rec centre, Walmart and our mini shopping centre with a grocery store attached, Pine Falls didn't offer much. Its close proximity to Minneapolis was its only feature. There were lots of people who made the daily commute, preferring Pine Falls' small town feel to the big city. Grandma used to drive me three or four times a week to practice with my coach. When she got sick both Grandpa and Dad offered to drive me, but without Grandma it didn't feel the same. I did keep it up though, until the week she died and then that was it. I gave up my amateur career.

"Your dad and grandfather argue a lot? You know, running the antique shop together."

"Not often. A lot of their business is online and Grandpa's the one who travels and scouts for new stock so they aren't in each other's faces all the time."

"It sounds kind of neat. I hope I get to see the shop."

"I'll take you there."

The drive seemed shorter than usual and before I knew it I was giving Zach directions to the house. We pulled up into the driveway, behind Grandpa's rusting SUV. He refused to part with it, especially when he was hauling big items. Why potentially damage a new car?

Zach grabbed our bags and I walked up the three steps to the front door. My head was floating, my stomach churning and my heart racing. What if they hated him? What if they compared him to Jake? And worse, what if Zach started talking about all the Jake and Bianca drama?

I put my key in the door and went inside. "Hey, I'm home," I called out.

Dad came from upstairs and Grandpa from the living room. Funny, one of them was always at the shop on Saturday, our busiest day of the week.

"Dad, Grandpa, this is Zach Walker."

Zach was a couple inches taller than Dad, but he towered over Grandpa. Zach shook both their hands as Dad and Grandpa sized him up.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Zach said. "Emma speaks highly of you both."

"It's nice to meet you too. Come on in, Zach. I was about to put on coffee," Dad said.

Dad flipped on the coffeemaker while Grandpa motioned for Zach to take a seat at the kitchen table where there was a tray of cookies! Store-bought, but on a tray nevertheless. I'd never seen Dad or Grandpa do anything remotely domestic, preferring to eat cookies from the bag or container they came from. Were there mints on Zach's bed?

"Tell us about yourself, Zach," Grandpa said. "What are you taking in school?"

"I'm doing a Poly Sci major with history minor. I graduate next spring and then hopefully off to law school."

Grandpa's blue eyes widened. "Law school? What are you thinking of practicing?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I'm leaning towards privacy law."

"Any political aspirations?"

"Not right now. I'm only twenty. I have lots of time."

Grandpa chuckled, the fake politician kind of way. "Of course, you're so young. Any law schools in mind?"

Dad put out the fancy creamer and sugar bowl, the ones we only used at Christmas. It was Grandma's set, the one she'd left me.

"I'm still thinking about it. I'm going to start prepping all my applications in the fall."

"You aren't thinking Western?" Dad asked, putting one of Grandma's Royal Albert teacups in front of Zach.

"No, my parents are adamant that my undergraduate and law degree are from two different universities. Apparently it's a thing."

"I see," Grandpa said, shooting me a warning look. Did he think Zach was blind? He could see it too.

"I've already told Emma, so she knows. We'd only be doing the long distance thing for a year."

"Providing you're still dating."

"Grandpa!"

"Just want you to be realistic. Not all relationships last forever."

Dad poured coffee in Zach's teacup then realized he hadn't pulled out any more. He disappeared and returned with three more teacups and poured coffee for the rest of us.

"Cookie," Dad asked Zach, holding the platter up to his face.

"Yes, thank you," Zach said, taking a digestive.

Dad sat and stared at Zach like he was a work of art at the Louvre. I felt uncomfortable for him and felt a need to jump in.

"So Dad, Zach wants to see the shop."

Dad snapped out of it. "Oh yes, we could do that later this afternoon. I'd be happy to take you there."

"I'll come too," Grandpa said. "We can go now."

"Why not finish our coffee first. Dad went to all this trouble."

Fortunately for Grandpa, the teacups were small and within ten minutes they were at the door getting ready to leave.

"Separate rooms, young lady," Grandpa whispered in my ear as they were hurrying Zach out the door.

"Got it."

I watched them pile into the car. They seemed to like Zach and that's all I could ask for.

~~~~~~~

They were gone until late in the afternoon and when they returned I'd started on dinner. Dad texted to tell me Wendy was coming too. In all the euphoria of cookie trays and fancy teacups, he'd forgotten to mention it. I looked forward to seeing her. We kept in contact with emails and now she'd finally meet Zach.

Dinner was a roasted chicken, pesto green beans, a salad and garlic potatoes. I texted Dad to grab a few bottles of wine with dinner.

The men returned, joking, laughing and talking sports. They barely noticed me as Dad put the wine on the kitchen table and went straight for the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers.

"Should I pull out the fine china for dinner?" I asked, my tongue firmly in cheek.

He playfully punched me in the arm. "Look, Kiddo, I didn't know what to do. It's not every day my daughter brings home a guy," Dad said well out of Zach's earshot. "And a senator's son, no less. He's probably used to the finer things in life."

"Zach's pretty easy going."

"I've noticed. And we like him," Dad whispered.

Off he went with the beers. Wendy arrived shortly after, carrying a pie she'd made. Zach got up from the sofa where he and Dad had been enjoying their beers. I introduced them and Dad called Zach back to enjoy the rest of the afternoon hockey game.

"What a handsome devil," Wendy said. "So tall and muscular."

"Do I need to throw some cold water on you?" I joked.

She laughed and gave me a big hug. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm good. Very happy."

"I'd be happy too! What can I do?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Would you mind prepping the green beans?"

"Not at all."

With the chicken in the oven and everything else prepared I finally got a chance to sit. Zach made a spot next to him and I sunk into the sofa wanting to wrap my arms around him but didn't think it was appropriate in front of everyone.

"Another beer?" Dad asked Zach.

"Only if you're having one."

"You bet."

Dad went to the fridge and came up empty. "Crap, we're out. I'm going to run out and get some." Zach protested, but Dad was determined to please. "I'll be back before you know it."

Wendy wandered off to see what puttering Grandpa was doing in the garage leaving Zach and I alone.

"So what do you think of them?" I asked.

"You've got a really nice family. And man, your Dad looks so young." He paused. "You guys don't look very much alike. I see some resemblance, but not much."

"I got Meredith's hair and eye color, but my height and nose from Dad."

Zach winced. "You don't call her mom?"

"Why would I? She's never been a mom."

"Point taken. But your dad . . . I'm not into guys, but he's pretty hot."

I laughed. "He gets that a lot, but he doesn't date much."

"How am I going to keep my hands off you the next few days?"

"I don't know. A lot of cold showers?"

"You could sneak to my room."

"Dad's probably got the entire house booby trapped. They might like you, but not that much."

"And you will tell them about us living together, right?"

"I will but after you've left. I promise."

"And while you're at it, I think they also deserve to know about the Jake and Bianca thing."

"I'll get around to it."

"I hate secrets."

"I know."

Dad raced back and he and Zach shared another beer. I left them to check on dinner. I decided we'd eat at the dining room table. We didn't eat there often, only for special occasions, but I thought this was pretty special. Zach and Dad set the table while Wendy helped me plate and dress the food. Grandpa, as usual, supervised. We all took our seats but Dad. He pulled out a tripod with his camera attached.

"Thought we'd take some pictures," he said. "Now everyone scoot in close while I set this up," he said, fiddling with buttons.

He'd brought the fancy camera home from the shop, the one he used to take high resolution shots of items for the website. What was next? Was a wedding planner going to pop out from one of the closets?

Dad rushed over and joined us. "Smile," he said as the camera took a shot. He went back to review it before making us take three more. He then took shots of me and Zach, Grandpa and Zach then made me take a picture of him and Zach. For good measure I took a few of Wendy and Grandpa since Dad seemed to have forgotten all about her.

"I miss your cooking," Dad said, biting into his chicken.

"I'm spoiled. Emma cooks for me all the time," Zach said.

Dad and Grandpa stopped chewing and looked at Zach who didn't let on that he'd just screwed up. "I mean, she's always cooking and having me over."

That answer seemed to satisfy them.

We stuffed ourselves and when the last bite was taken, I stood and started clearing plates away. Zach wanted to help, but Grandpa patted his arm and told him to sit. Men. Wendy helped with me the dishes and Dad roused himself to make another pot of coffee.

"You're going to tell them you're living with Zach?" Wendy asked, keeping her voice low.

"After Zach leaves just in case the news sends them into orbit."

"And about Jake and his horrible girlfriend?"

I let out a pained sigh. "Wendy, I don't know how to tell Dad. So many times I've acted it out in my head and in every scenario Dad gets pissed and his friendship with Uncle Ron suffers."

"I think you underestimate your dad. I get the impression his friendship with Ron is strong, so your falling out with Jake shouldn't affect it."

I weighed telling Wendy about the texts, but they'd stopped. What was the point? "I know, but I was going to wait until the end of the school year and give Dad the whole summer to accept that I was going to be living with Zach in the fall."