Page 2 of Playing Her Game

“Not unless there is a very good reason.” Or they’re cunts. Nothing worse than a cunt with money.

I adjust her coat collar. “Fancy is knowing when to speak and when to listen. It is being as kind to the person serving your dinner as the person sitting beside you. It is knowing which fork to use but also knowing that it doesn’t much matter if you use the wrong one.”

She wrinkles her nose. “That sounds super hard.”

“It isn’t. You simply must pay attention.”

She looks down at herself again. “So, I’m fancy?”

I smile. “You are very fancy.” She beams and I touch the tip of her nose, “the coat can be cashmere. The shoes can be Italian leather. Your hair can shine like silk. None of those things make you special.”

She looks up at me. “What does?”

I don’t hesitate. “You do.”

“I’m shiny.”

I laugh. “And being fancy or shiny does not mean that you can’t shout and cheer for your favorite player.” I take off my fancy coat and reveal the jersey with both Lenzin’s and Aleks’ numbers on it, numbers I have worn since their days at Yale.

She grins and turns to the glass. “They’re coming!”

The arena lights are already dropping. The noise rises around us, thousands of people suddenly becoming one enormous living thing, a pulse. Lucy gasps, as if this is her first time at a game, and I love that I can soak up some of that excitement.

I glance at Hildy, who is smiling at Lucy.

“She loves coming to his games even more now that he’s teaching her to skate,” Hildy says, managing to take Lucy’s coat off as she’s glued to the glass.

“Can you nudge her toward figure skating instead of this?” I nod toward the glass.

Lucy turns around so quickly her ponytail smacks her cheek. “Aunt Anna.”

“Yes, Lucy Lu?”

“Watch.”

“I’m watching.”

“No. Really, really, really watch.” She points at the ice.

The lights go out; the arena is almost completely dark. Then the red comes alive, and Lucy makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a squeal. Savannah startles, then giggles.

The announcer’s voice rolls through the arena. “And now... your Brooklyn Bears!”

The place explodes as the players storm onto the ice.

Lucy jumps up and down so fast I automatically put a hand on her back, worried she might hit the ceiling, then laugh when I realize how absurd that is. “Be careful.”

“I see him!”

“I know.”

“Faulker!” She yells. It’s adorable that she thinks he can hear her. Lenzin skates across the ice, and Lucy slaps both hands against the glass. “FAULKER!”

I laugh as he looks up and finds her immediately. Of course he does. He lifts his stick in acknowledgment.

Lucy turns toward me, eyes enormous. “He saw me!”

“Of course he did.”