“We had an okay game,” Novikov felt the need to correct. Cella balled her fingers into fists and he waved the correction away. “Forget I said anything.”
“I will. So explain to me what I did wrong with Mr. Uptight.”
Blayne lunged forward, forefinger jabbing dangerously, but Novikov pulled her back and held her with one hand.
“I’ll run it down for you. You introduced that tiger as your daughter’s father.”
“Bri is her father.”
“You discussed your gift-giving plans.”
“It’s Meghan’s eighteenth on Sunday and we’re planning to give her a car, but we have to figure out which one. Something sporty or something reliable? I’m thinking sporty.”
“Right. You also briefly talked about wedding plans and a bachelorette party.”
“My mom is the planner for Bri’s wedding here and I’m maid of honor in the States so I’m handling that bachelorette party for Rivka. I still don’t see the problem.”
“That’s because you’re looking at each thing individually when you should be stepping back and taking in the whole discussion. Then pretend for five seconds that you’re a normal person rather than, ya know, you, and think about how a normal person would see that whole thing without having any context whatso—”
“Oh, my God!”
Novikov nodded. “Exactly.”
Crush neared the front door of the Sports Center, the full-humans instinctively moving out of his way, when the feline suddenly cut in front of him. She slapped her hand against his chest, stopping him from going any farther.
“It’s not my wedding.”
Crush frowned. “Pardon?”
She took a breath—she must have run all the way up—and repeated, “It’s not my wedding. He’s father to my child, but he’s not marrying me. He’s marrying someone else completely.”
“And will he get custody?”
“Custody of who?”
“The child that can barely reach the stove, but you leave alone for hours?”
“Barely reach the ... You mean Meghan?” She laughed. “Meghan’s seventeen.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Seriously, I was joking. You have heard of jokes, right?”
“Thought jokes were supposed to be funny.”
“It helps if one has a sense of humor.” She patted his chest. “But with some work and care, I’m sure I can give you one.”
“No thanks.”
Startled, she took a step back. “You’re not going to give me a chance to prove I’m a wonderful person?”
“You already think you’re a wonderful person. What do you need me for?”
She dropped her hands to her hips, squinting up at him.
“What?”
“I’m trying to figure out if you’re just a dick or if you’re really an uptight, overthinking good guy?”
“How about I make the decision for you.”
Crush stepped around her and walked out, determined to get away from this insane feline. And, as the door closed behind him, Crush heard her bark, “Well I guess it’s just you being a dick then, huh?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cella woke up swinging, but her wrists were quickly caught and held and a strong voice snapped, “Ma!”
Cella opened her eyes, immediately relaxed. “Hey, baby. Was I sleep-punching again?”
“No.” Meghan released her.
“What time is it?”
“Three a.m.”
“Really?” Then Cella grinned and threw her arms wide, wrapping them around her daughter. “Baby, it’s your birthday!”
Meghan hugged her back, but sighed. “Yeah. Great birthday.”
“What’s wrong?” Cella leaned back. “You and Josie have a fight?”
“No. I got my ... ya know.”
“Your period? Would you just say it? You’re going to be a doctor.”
“I’d prefer to say my menstruation started, but then you’d get bitchy about that.”
“That just sounds snobby.”
“Anyway, I was wondering if you could take me to the twenty-four-hour drugstore on Jericho Turnpike? I’m out of supplies.”
“Your cousins don’t have anything you can use?”
“I’m sure they do ... they also have brothers that I’d rather not sit around with on my birthday discussing this.”
Cella shuddered, remembering life with her own cousins at that age. Nothing was sacred or secret.
Throwing off the covers, Cella got out of bed. “Come on.”
After changing out of her shorts and tank top and into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, she grabbed a set of SUV keys and they went out onto the street that the Malone family had taken over long before little Meghan was born. It was a street that Nassau police steered clear of. So did any local car thieves or home invaders. Every once in a while, those who didn’t know the area well enough or thought they were too smart to get caught came here looking to steal or just cause problems.
Yeah ... that never ended well.
Cella pulled away from the curb, and headed to the pharmacy. Her daughter, yawning, rested her head against the window.
“You know, baby, you can always take one of the cars yourself if you need to go somewhere.”
“Fine!” her daughter suddenly exploded. “I’m sorry I woke you up! And I’m sorry I’m bothering you to help me out! Next time I won’t!”
Cella hit the brakes, stopping the car at the end of their street. She let the silence percolate for a bit before she asked, “Something amiss, my love?”
Well, she hadn’t meant to do that. “No, no. Of course not,” Meghan lied, hoping her mother would let it go.
Then again, her mother didn’t let anything go. That was what made Cella Malone a great hockey player and killer cat.
But, at the very least, she started driving again.
“Look, Meg, I know you don’t like deep, meaningful conversations, but you can’t yell at me and not tell me what’s going on. What I’m doing wrong.”
“You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m just under a lot of stress right now.”
“The last thing you should have, kid, is stress.”
“There’s just a lot going on, okay? I’ve got school, Daddy’s wedding, or weddings. I’ve never actually left the country before and now I’m going all the way to flippin’ Israel.”
“It’s gorgeous there. You’ll love it. And you’ll have all of KZS watching your ass while you’re there. You couldn’t be more safe if I vacuum-sealed you in a puncture-resistant bag, which I’ve thought about.”
“I’m not worried about my safety, Ma.”
“You should always be worried about your safety anytime you leave the ... front yard.”
Meg’s eyes crossed and she stared out the window.
“Is this about college?”
Meghan cringed, not ready for this conversation. She might never be ready.
“I don’t know what you’re worried about. You’re going to do great at Boston U.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You’re smart, you’re gorgeous—because you’ve got my genes—and you’ll have the Boston Malones watching out for you.”
“Uh-huh.”
“If you want, we can go up there and spend time with the family one of these upcoming weekends. Go check out the campus, look around ...”
Get her off the subject! Get her off the subject!
“It’s not school. It’s ... it’s ...”
“It’s what?”
“It’s ... you.”
“Me?”
“And the aunts.”
Her mother sighed and Meg could hear the frustration in her voice. “What did Deirdre say to you?”
“Ma.”
“That old bitch is really getting on my last goddamn nerve.”