The Penalty Box (41 page)

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Authors: Deirdre Martin

BOOK: The Penalty Box
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Your turn to
get the door.”
Katie gave Tuck a frosty look even though she knew he was right. All night long the bell had been ringing as little ghouls and goblins collected their Halloween booty. Tuck and his friends had gone out trick-or-treating after school, wanting first dibs on whatever candy there was to be had. That was fine with Katie, who hadn't wanted him running around at night, possibly getting into trouble.
“I'll pay you if you get the door,” Katie begged.
Tuck hugged the bowl of popcorn on his lap tight and kept his eyes glued to the TV. “No way. You said that last time. Your turn.”
Katie sighed, hoisting herself off the couch. It was close to nine. Wasn't that late to still be out trick-or-treating? She picked up the bowl of Halloween candy resting on the coffee table. There wasn't much left.
Too bad
, she thought.
You snooze, you lose.
Opening the door, she was disheartened to see a large kid standing there in a hockey jersey and a goalie mask, holding a pillow case in one hand and a bloodied hockey stick in the other.
“Trick or treat,” croaked a gravelly voice.
Katie frowned. She disliked teenage trick-or-treaters. They deprived smaller kids of candy. It wasn't right.
“Let me guess,” she said blandly as she tossed a small bag of M&Ms into the pillowcase. “You're supposed to be Jason.”
“No.”
“Whatever.” Katie closed the door. She was halfway back to the couch when the doorbell rang again. She hadn't noticed any other kids walking up the front path to her house, which meant the only one who could possibly be ringing the bell again was Jason. Annoyed, she turned heel and flung the door open.
“Yes?”
“I've decided I don't like this treat. I'd rather play a trick.”
Katie froze. The voice was different. Familiar. This time she noticed what was printed across the front of the hockey jersey. It was the Blades' logo.
“Paul?”
He laughed delightedly as he removed the goalie mask.
“Oh my God!” Katie leaned against the doorframe for support.
“Can I come in?”
Katie pulled herself together. “Yes, of course.”
Quaking inside, she led him into the living room. Tuck's screams of delight when he saw who it was threatened to shatter the windows.
“Coach van Dorn!” Tuck leapt up from the couch, throwing his arms around Paul. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like I'm doing?” Paul said, dropping his mask, pillowcase and hockey stick so he could embrace the boy back. “I'm trick-or-treating.”
Tuck frowned. “You didn't come here for that.”
“You're right. I didn't.” His gaze fastened on Katie.
Katie flushed. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“I'm fine.” Paul eyed the couch. “Mind if I sit?”
“Feel free.”
Tuck leaped on to the couch beside him, barely able to contain himself. “Coach, guess what? I'm first-line center for my new hockey team and they're not as good as the Panthers but it's fun and guess what? I'm taking a computer class and I was a hockey player for Halloween too and got tons of stuff do you want some Starbursts?”
“I would love some Starbursts in a little while,” Paul said, shooting Katie a sidelong look. “But right now, I'd like to talk to your aunt alone for a few minutes, if that's okay with you.”
“Totally okay,” Tuck declared, bolting off the couch. He turned to Katie. “Can I play on the computer?”
“Go ahead,” said Katie, who usually limited his computer time. “But only because this is a special occasion.”
“Cool!” Tuck exclaimed, disappearing up the stairs.
Katie turned to Paul. “You do realize he'll probably hover on the landing and listen to every word we say.”
“That's okay.” Paul nodded with approval as he glanced around the living room. “Very nice. You have good taste.” His eyes slid to hers. “I think I'll like living here.”
“Excuse me?”
Paul reached for her hand, holding it tight. The gesture felt pure, preordained. Katie held her breath. “I had an epiphany,” Paul continued.
“Big SAT word.”
“You bet.” His eyes were guileless, filled with such raw emotion Katie almost flinched. “I don't want to own a bar in Didsbury the rest of my life.”
“I see.” Katie's chest began to knot. “Do you know what you want to do?”
He raised his hand to caress her cheek. “Not yet,” he confessed softly. “But whatever it is, I want to do it with you. As long as I have you in my future, I don't need to live in the past.”
“Paul,” she whispered.
“I haven't sold the bar, but I've left it in Frank's hands for now. I have more than enough money to live on while I figure out what I
really
want to do. In the meantime, I thought that maybe—if it's okay with you—I could help you out with Tuck.”
“Okay?” Katie repeated incredulously, choking back tears of joy. She took his face in her hands. “It's more than okay. Ever since I left Didsbury I've been kicking myself for what an uptight jerk I was with you. You had every right to dump me. I was holding back, using Tuck as an excuse because I was afraid if I let myself go, I would fall in love and somehow get sucked back into living in the place I always associated with pain.” She touched her forehead to his as her tears began to fall. “But I don't feel that way anymore. Now, when I think of Didsbury, I think of you, and my mom, and all the laughs I had with Bitsy and Denise. I think about all the things you said about how it shaped me.”
“But you still don't want to live there.”
“No.”
“Well, that works out perfectly, then, because neither do I.”
Katie raised her eyes to his. “You know what I want?”
“Tell me.”
“I want to look in your eyes and let you take my breath away, and the next minute want to kill you because you've left the toilet seat up. I want to reach across my bed and feel you there, solid, real,
mine.
I love you.”
“I love you, too, Katie.”
“Hooray!” Tuck came flying down the stairs. He couldn't stop moving, hopping excitedly from foot to foot as he grinned at both of them.
“I thought you were playing on your computer,” Katie noted.
“I was,” Tuck insisted, “but I had to go to the bathroom and I heard you talking.”
“I see.” Katie suppressed a laugh. “I guess you heard that Coach van Dorn is moving in with us.”
Tuck nodded fervently. “Maybe you can coach my hockey team,” he said to Paul. “Coach Talbert is a dick.”
“Tuck,” Katie scolded. “Don't say ‘dick.' ”
Tuck's mouth fell open in protest as he pointed at Paul. “He does! He said it in the locker room last year! I remember!”
Katie shot Paul a look of disbelief.
“That's true, I did,” Paul admitted carefully, “but I probably shouldn't have.”
“You know what I think?” said Katie, rising from the couch. “I think we need a group hug.”
Both Tuck and Paul groaned.
“Oh, c'mon,” Katie chided.
Tuck said something under his breath and Paul rolled his eyes. But Katie paid no attention, gathering them in a bone-crushing embrace of love and hope. For now, they were a family.

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