“Of course, and shop a lot,” Mom gushes, but my dad rolls his eyes.
“Always spending my money.”
“Always,” she says, kissing his cheek in a loud, smacking kiss. She then glances over at me. “How’s the house? Are you all settled?”
I shrug. “As much as a single dude who doesn’t know how to decorate can be.”
She sends me an encouraging smile. “As long as you’re happy with it.”
“I am.” Sadie comes barreling into the living room, coming right for my crotch. I jump as I hold her head in my hands, trying to protect my precious jewels. “You’re going to make it where I can’t give Grandma and Grandpa a human grandchild.”
Mom tsks. “Come here, furry grandchild.” Sadie comes for her and jumps her big self half across my mom’s lap. Mom kisses her head and runs her hand down Sadie’s back. “I love my girl—yes, I do—but we would like a human grandchild.”
She looks up at me from under her lashes, and I snort. “Gotta find someone first.”
“At least you didn’t have any with that ex of yours. Can you imagine? That would have been messier than it was.”
Mom smacks Dad before glaring at him. “Charles, come on. No need to bring her up.”
“I know. Chandler, I’m sorry,” Dad says, but I wave him off. “I was just stating a fact, Lizzy.”
I chuckle lightly. “I agree with both of you, but I don’t want to talk about her.”
“For sure, better things to talk about. Like your plus/minus is looking mighty good. Record year, maybe?”
I love my mom. “We’ll see. I feel good this year.”
“Like a 110-pound weight has been lifted off you. A divorce can do wonders in this case.”
My dad doesn’t want to stop. “Jesus, Charles, you’re killing me.”
“I’m just saying,” he says once more, reaching out to love on Sadie. “But you are looking real good this year. I feel good about it. All the IceCats look solid. Nico is killing in goal.”
“He is. He’s super focused.”
“He always is,” Mom says fondly. “I love that kid. Such a sweetie.”
I smile. My mom was a billet mom when I was in high school and college. She loves hockey and loves spoiling kids. My parents come from old money, the kind of money regular folks like them shouldn’t have. They met and got married very quickly. They wanted a huge family to spoil and love. Unfortunately, my mom couldn’t have kids. It was a huge blow, and they were devastated. They continued to try, hoping the doctors were wrong, but they weren’t. So they found and adopted me.
“We can’t have him,” Dad reminds me, and Mom feigns shock.
“I’m sure if I asked him, he’d come live with me right now.”
“For your shepherd’s pie, yes,” I joke, and she grins happily at my dad.
“See, I’m amazing.”
He leans over, kissing her nose. “That you are, my love.”
They share an intimate smile, and my heart swells in my chest. Mom leans her head on Sadie as she looks back to me. “When is Ryan’s wedding?”
“December 26th. I’ll leave here Christmas afternoon.”
“We haven’t gotten an invite,” Mom says in a very snooty way. “Tell him no shepherd’s pie for him.”
“Okay, Shepherd’s Pie Nazi,” I tease as I take out my phone. I send a quick text to Ryan, and thankfully, he answers back.
Ryan: Asshole, I sent it to your house with yours ’cause I didn’t have your parents’ address.
Shit. He did.
“Okay, that’s my fault,” I say, looking up at my parents. “The invite is in my mail basket. I forgot he sent yours to my house.”
“Oh, he is forgiven. Tell him I’ll bring the shepherd’s pie.”
I laugh as I tuck my phone into my pocket. “He’ll appreciate that.”
“It’s sure to be a lovely wedding. In December? Maybe it’ll snow!” Mom gushes, clapping her hands, which scares Sadie and she takes off out of the room.
Dad snorts. “In Tennessee? Please. It’ll either snow and the whole state will shut down, or it’ll lightly dust and, again, the state will shut down. Or it’ll be sixty degrees.”
Laughter fills the kitchen. I lean back, propping my chair on its back legs. We lived in Tennessee from the moment I was adopted. I still remember the day they came and got me from Georgia. I was a mess, my clothes were ripped, and I’m pretty sure I smelled. I was terrified to let anyone touch me, but my mom stood there, tears in her eyes and her arms wide. I went right to her. The picture from that moment hangs in the family room. In it, Dad is standing beside her, crying as they both enveloped me in a hug.
“Chandler, stop please,” Mom scolds, kicking me in the shin.
I drop my chair and rub my leg. “Great, now I can’t play.”
She smacks me again, and I laugh as I lean my elbows on the table. She eyes me. “So, will you have a date for the wedding?”