Hip Check (New York Blades)

Hip Check (New York Blades) by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online

Book: Hip Check (New York Blades) by Deirdre Martin Read Free Book Online
Authors: Deirdre Martin
her about Nell’s circumstances, Michelle felt an immediate connection with her. When Michelle’s own mother had died, she still had her dad and brother. As far as she could tell, the only one Nell had was her clueless uncle, Esa.
    Michelle reminded herself to cut him some slack. He’d suffered a huge loss, too, and it couldn’t be easy to be a single professional athlete, and wake up one day and find yourself responsible for a little girl. Yet Esa’s nonchalant attitude was making it tough for Michelle to feel sympathetic. It wasn’t hard to figure out what was racing through his mind during their meeting:
Just make this problem go away. I don’t know how to deal with it, and I don’t want to.
    Lost in her thoughts, Michelle almost missed her stop. There were a lot of blanks that still needed filling in. She especially wanted to talk to “Aunt Leslie” to find out all she could about Nell. And, of course, there was everything else: packing, moving, unpacking, getting acclimated, getting Nell acclimated, going over the ground rules with Esa Saari. The next forty-eight hours were going to be pressure filled, but Michelle was ready for it. It was, after all, what she’d signed on for.
    A sense of optimism and anticipation gave a bounce to Michelle’s step as she walked the seven blocks from the subway stop to her dad’s place. She did some of her best thinking while walking through Woodside. A cynic might say that was because there was nothing interesting to see in the neighborhood. Okay, so maybe there weren’t any grand, historical buildings here worth preserving. And yeah, most of the houses and apartment buildings looked like they’d seen better days. And unlike nearby Flushing with the National Tennis Center and the old World’s Fair grounds, there weren’t many parks or interesting public spaces. But Woodside was a good place to have grown up in. It was just a solid, working-class community. No pretensions, just lots of people from all different backgrounds and ways of life quietly living together. Woodside had never been gentrified, and probably never would be. No one had ever accused it of being trendy. But Michelle liked that recent arrivals added some spice to the neighborhood. Now you could get any kind of cuisine you were in the mood for. Indian for lunch? Ethiopian for dinner? A Greek cheese pie for dinner? It was all there, along with the V & V, the best bakery in the
world
.
    As she walked up Roosevelt Avenue, Michelle texted her brother, Jamie, making sure he was home and not at the firehouse. Jamie’s marriage had blown up seven months earlier. His ex couldn’t handle the possibility that when she kissed her husband good-bye before he went off to work each day, it might be the last time she’d ever see him alive. Michelle still felt badly for her brother, but her father’s reservoir of sympathy seemed to be running out. He’d been complaining that Jamie wasn’t looking too hard for new digs.
    When she walked in the door she saw her brother, all six feet two inches of him, stretched out on the couch, his thin legs dangling over the side. Michelle gave him a kiss on the forehead. “When’d you get home?”
    “A little while ago.” Jamie eyed her suspiciously. “Why’d you text me? What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing’s
wrong
. I just need your help with something. Where’s Dad?”
    “Shopping, I think. He should be back any minute.”
    Michelle grabbed that day’s
Sentinel
from her brother’s chest and started fanning herself, flopping down in her dad’s favorite recliner. “Jesus, Jame. Could you turn up the air conditioning a little?”
    “Dad likes it low. He gets cold now, remember?”
    “He’s cheap, you mean.”
    Jamie grinned. “Yeah, that, too.”
    Growing up, Michelle’s girlfriends never failed to remark on how cute Jamie was, which always made her want to heave. But once she and Jamie were older, she could see the reasons for their infatuation: his velvety chocolate

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