“What?” Cella pushed.
“You’re really surprised he left?” Novikov asked.
“Yeah. I wore these sweats on purpose—they make my ass look great. I have a beautiful smile—as always. And we had a great game.”
“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?”
C
HAPTER
E
IGHT
C
ella 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 wedding
s.
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.”
“Ma! This is what I’m talking about.” And she wasn’t making this part up. “All you do is fight with the aunts. Especially Deirdre.”
“Because she’s evil.”
“She’s not evil. She’s blood.” Meg turned in the seat and looked at her mother. “What is it about Aunt Deirdre that bothers you?”
“Bothers
me
? That woman hates me, and she’s been trying to turn you against me since your birth. The placenta hadn’t even come out yet when she started in.”
“Ma.”
“Don’t ‘Ma’ me.”
“You know what I want for my birthday?” Meghan snapped. “For you not to fight with Deirdre.”
“Why don’t you just ask for the sun?”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That’ll be my birthday all day today. Getting between you and Deirdre.”
“No one asks you to get between us.”
“I can’t have you fighting an old woman!”
“Don’t let her age fool you. She-tigers who manage to live that long are naturally mean and those disfigured knuckles of hers are not from an accident but brawls that she usually started.”
“Like you?”
“I don’t start brawls, baby, I finish them.”
Fed up with the conversation, Meg blew out a breath and focused her gaze straight ahead. The silence lasted until they pulled into the parking lot and that’s when her mother said, “You don’t want me to fight with Deirdre? I won’t fight with Deirdre.
I
won’t fight with her.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that no matter how hard she pushes, I will not let her goad me into a fight.”
“Ma, you’re not physically capable of doing that.”
“I can do
anything
.”
“Gliding around on ice while beating up guys ten times your size—
this
is what you can physically manage.
Not
fighting with your elderly aunt? Not so much.”
“But I will. For you. Not only that, I’m not going to fight with Deirdre until after you leave for the second wedding.”
“
Ma.
”
“I’ve made up my mind.”
“But why would you do that?”
“Because I love you. And no matter what that old bitch told you, I did not desert you.”
Startled, Meg looked at her mother. “I know.”
“Do you?”
“Of course, I do. It’s not like you ran off to Times Square to be a hooker. You joined the Marines. Besides, there’s no way to desert a Malone cub when you’ve got ten thousand aunts, uncles, and cousins in North America, Hawaii, and Puerto Rico alone.”
“Don’t forget Alaska.”
“Ma, Alaska
is
part of North America.”
“Whatever.”
When Meg’s eyes crossed, her mother laughed and took Meg’s hand in her own. Cella’s were covered in scars, old and new, some from hockey, some from her work as a “contractor,” and some from just being the East Coast Bare Knuckle Champion five years running.
“I want you to have the best birthday you can possibly have with your personality—”
“Thanks.”
“—and if that means putting up with that vicious old woman and her annoying machinations, I’ll do it. Because I love you and I want you to be fucking happy.”
“Uh ...”
“Now let’s go into this pharmacy and get you some goddamn tampons. My treat!”
Meg watched her mother get out of the SUV, slamming the door behind her.
“I’m so never bored with this family,” she sighed, pushing the door open and following her mother into the store.
C
HAPTER
N
INE
A
fter a few more hours of sleep and a hearty birthday breakfast with Meg that Meg cooked, Cella was on her fifth lap of her Sunday-afternoon run around the neighborhood when she finally admitted that something was definitely going on, and it had nothing to do with the preparations for Meg’s birthday party that evening. Cella noticed it when every time she passed one of her relatives’ house or RV, someone greeted her, asked her how she was doing, whether she wanted some coffee, or if she needed a chat. Malones didn’t chat. They gossiped, but that’s what they called it. Gossip.
Instead of asking one of her uncles, great-aunts, or cousins what the fuck was going on, though, she ran back to her parents’ house. But she knew that was a mistake as soon as she walked into the kitchen. Again, her father, brothers, and aunts were all clustered around the table, but now her mother, lips in a tight, unhappy line, was involved. All of them whispering to each other, and it looked like arguing.
“Oh!” her Aunt Maureen said, way too brightly. “Look who’s back!”
Panting, sweat dripping onto the floor, Cella stared at her family. They stared back and then smiled. All of them smiled. At her. Even her Aunt Deirdre.
That’s when Cella went up to her room and a much-needed shower.
She was just stepping out, reaching for a towel when she heard the knock at the door.
“Yeah?” she said, cautious. But when Jai peeked around the open door, Cella let out a breath. “Thank God it’s you.”
“What’s wrong?”
Cella motioned for Jai to close the door. “I think they’re plotting my death.”
Jai laughed, then stopped. “Oh. You’re not kidding.”
“They’re acting weird. They’re up to something. Malones just don’t smile at ya ... unless it involves a con or a two-by-four to the back of the head.”
“Yeah.” Jai nibbled her bottom lip. “Or they care about you and your happiness?”
“They’re Malones. They don’t give a shit about my happiness.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. They seem to love you more than you realize.”
Cella’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you saying that? What’s going on?”
“It’s about the upcoming family wedding.”
“Whose wedding? Shannon’s? Sinead’s? Annie’s? Emma’s? Ella’s?
“No.”
“Johnny’s? Jackie’s? Conor’s? Jamie’s?”
“My God, please stop. I’m talking about Bri’s wedding.”
“Bri’s not family.”
“Just your daughter’s father.”
“That don’t make him family. Just makes him a breeder.”
Jai smiled. “I love hanging around you. You guys never fail to entertain me.”
“Spit it out, Davis. What’s going on?”
“There’s concern. About the effect Bri and Rivka’s wedding is having on you.”
“Me? What about me?” The wedding had been in the planning stages for what felt like an eternity, and although Meghan might have some concerns about the event, why would the family care one way or the other? And, especially, why would they suddenly be worried about Cella?
“The family’s concerned that you’re devastated about all this. The engagement. The wedding.”
Cella blinked. “No, I’m not.”
“That you’re hiding your pain behind a façade.”
“A façade of what?”
“General good humor and bravado.”
“I always have good humor. And I am full of bravado.”
“That’s very true.”
“Besides. How upset can I be? I’m the maid of honor.”
“Uh-huh.”
“My mother is the wedding planner for the wedding here and I asked her to do it. They have another planner for the ceremony in Israel, which Meghan is invited to.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And the only reason the rest of the Malones aren’t invited is because of, well ... ya know ... the thing.”
“Right. The thing.”
“Which was not my fault but my cousin’s and he’s returned almost all the artwork, including the Monet, to Israel.”
“I’m well aware.”
“And not only that, but when Bri told me he was marrying Rivka, I said, ‘Yeah. Great. And you may want to send your support check before you leave on your honeymoon.’ ”
“I’m sure you did.”
“Then why would any of them be concerned?”
“I think they’re under some delusion that you care.”
“I care about my kid. I didn’t eat her at birth or anything. Care about you. My parents. Josie, of course. Tolerate my brothers.”
Jai nodded. “I agree with all of that.”
Turning back to the mirror, Cella said, “My God, my family’s so insane. It’s no big deal. After the wedding this will all blow over.”
“Well ...”
Cella again faced her friend. “Well, what?”
Jai bit her lip again before announcing, “They’re talking matchmaker.”
Cella stumbled back against the sink. “No!”
Jai raised her hands. “Now don’t panic.”
“Don’t panic? Are you insane?” Cella bet this was her Aunt Deirdre’s idea. Her mother always said that Deirdre could convince most Malones that John F. Kennedy was a Protestant. And while Kathleen ran the New York Malone females, it was Deirdre who was the equivalent of her enforcer. Only she was way meaner than Cella could ever dream of being on the ice.
Jai reached over and patted Cella’s hand. “Don’t worry. Your father says it’s not necessary—”
“Well, at least he’s being reasonable.”
“—because you already have a boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend? What boy ...” Cella gasped. “Oh, no.”
“Do you know who he’s talking about?”
“God. The bear. The polar bear from Friday night.” She’d told Jai about what had happened with the bear on their drive home from the game. “Christ, I thought Dad knew he wasn’t my boyfriend.”
“Apparently he doesn’t know that. And it sounds as if he likes the guy. ‘He’s a fine, slightly tongue-tied boy,’ according to him. Which is perfect because maybe you can use the bear to get your aunts off your back for a little while.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mom told my mom that if you’ve got a boyfriend already, your aunts will back off the matchmaker thing. The problem is Deirdre’s convinced them you don’t have a boyfriend. That Butch was mistaken.”
“But he was! I was kidding when I said he was my boyfriend.”
“Your father seemed to have missed that.”
“How could he miss that?”
“It doesn’t matter. But maybe if you use your Malone charm, you can get the guy to help out.”
“Help out with what?”
“Pretend to be your boyfriend for a couple of days. Give him tickets to the next game or something. I’m sure he’d help for that since you say he’s a fan.”
Cella wasn’t so sure. “You don’t understand. That bear barely tolerated me and he thinks I’m a bad mother.”
“Why does he think ... ?” Jai rolled her eyes. “Did you do that thing again? Where you pretend Meghan can barely tie her shoes, but you’ve left her alone to fend for herself?”
Cella shrugged. “You had to be there. It was funny at the time.”
“Funny or not, you’ve got a problem. You could probably get one of the other players to have your back or someone from KZS to pretend to be your boyfriend, but your father already met the bear. Although, I’m surprised he’s okay with a bear. I thought the Malones would be all, ‘he must be tiger.’ ”
“Only if I hadn’t already had the kid. My aunts are happy because I’ve been a good little Malone female and given them a girl to carry on family tradition. Which only leaves me wide open for anything the aunts may dredge up. But I’m betting this is Deirdre. She’s trying to start a fight with me.”
“She always starts fights with you.”
“Yeah, but ...”
“Yeah, but what?”
Cella let a breath out, her neck getting tight. “But I promised Meghan I wouldn’t fight with Deirdre until after the wedding.”
Jai let out a loud laugh until she realized Cella wasn’t joining her. Then she stopped. “Oh ... you’re serious.”
“It’s a long story involving sleep-punching, tampons, and an early-morning drive to the pharmacy. I don’t want to get into it.”
“I don’t think I want you to get into it.”
“That old bitch. I bet she knows. I bet she
knows
I promised Meg I wouldn’t fight with her.”
“Now you’re being paranoid.”
“I’m not. She knows I’ll never agree to a matchmaker, which will set off a whole chain of events and then she can make me look bad in front of my kid.”
Instead of debating that, Jai asked, “So what are you going to do?”
“I’ll just talk to the family. Calmly. Rationally. I’ll make it clear these old-school rituals no longer apply in modern society. I’ll make it clear how ridiculous this all is.”
“You mean you’re going to act like an adult?”
“Yes. I’m a thirty-six-year-old adult and I can act like one.”
Determined, Cella finished drying off and changed into a pair of sweats, black T-shirt, and sneakers. With Jai by her side, she returned to the kitchen. And again as she walked in, her family stopped whatever conversation they were having and stared at her.
“Where’s the kid?” Cella asked.
“At the mall with Josie, using the gift cards she got for her birthday.”
Perfect, but before Cella could continue, Aunt Kathleen asked, “Do you remember your cousin Pete? Lives in Atlantic City?”
“Cousin?” Jai softly asked.
“Fourth cousin, twice removed,” Cella elaborated. “Yeah, I remember him. Why?”
“I still say—” Barb began, but Kathleen held up a finger, silencing Cella’s mother. Much to Barb’s annoyance.
“Stay out of this, Barbara Feeney.”
“It’s Malone now, even though you keep forgetting that.”
And this was why Cella was convinced her mother deeply loved her dad. Because being a strong-willed female and marrying into this family? It better be love.
“He’s got an RV dealership,” Aunt Maureen explained around Barb and Kathleen’s bickering. “Maybe we could all go down and visit him. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Cella and Jai glanced at each other, and Cella asked, “Go down there?”
“Sure. We can play the slots, maybe a little blackjack, and you can spend some time with Pete and the rest of the family.”
“Aren’t most of the AC Malones under federal indictment?” Butch asked, looking more annoyed by the conversation as every second passed.
“The feds don’t have nothin’,” Deirdre snipped, glowering at her brother.
“And do you really see Pete leaving his business and moving here?” Barb asked.
“A good girl would move there.”
“If being a good girl’s an actual requirement, doesn’t that rule out all the Malone females?” Barb shot back.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Deirdre said. “She’s always wanted to leave. Being that she’s too good for the family. So here’s her chance.”
“Do you really think I’d leave my kid?” Cella asked.
“You left her the first time,” Deirdre tossed back. “And the second. And I think there was a third.”
“Bitch!” Cella roared. She and Deirdre went for each other at the same time, her father and the aunts holding Deirdre back while Jai shoved Cella with her entire body toward the door.
“We’ll be back,” Jai called out over the yelling. She grabbed a set of keys for one of the family SUVs and continued to push Cella out the door and into the backyard.
“You should let me kick her ass for that last shot!”
“You promised,” Jai reminded her before catching hold of Cella’s arm and dragging her toward the car. “Besides, you cannot beat up an old woman.”
“In the seventies that old woman was the Malone Bare Knuckles champ.”
“Right. Which is also why you can’t afford to be beaten up by her, either. Your fragile Malone ego would never get over that.”
They stopped by a dark blue SUV. “She’s just going to keep at me, Jai. She has nothing to lose because she didn’t promise anything. But if I fight with her, I end up breaking my word, which a Malone never does ... to one of our own, I’m not talking the general populace, of course.”
“I know, hon.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Cella demanded.
“You’re going to get on the phone and track down that bear. I’ll drive.”
“Okay,” Cella said, when Jai pulled to a stop in front of a nice little house in Queens. “This is the address MacDermot gave me.”