Free Breakaway by Deirdre Martin Page A

herself. “What did Lucy give you for breakfast?”
    “Leftover fish pie, some ice cream, and a tin of peas.”
    “Oh, God.” Erin covered her mouth so she wouldn’t gag. “Did she feed that to Oona as well?”
    “No. Oona told her she felt ill and went back to bed.”
    “Smart girl.”
    Rory came over, crouching on LJ’s other side, where he began stroking the sick child’s head tenderly. Erin looked away. It conjured up too many hours spent in conversation about having kids. She was unnerved by the tenderness of Rory’s gesture. It was hard to completely hate a man who was kind to a child, even if that man was a prick when it came to women.
    Rory’s hand stopped moving but remained atop LJ’s head as he addressed Erin.
    “He felt ill when he came to camp, but he didn’t want to tell anyone because he didn’t want to miss out on practice.” He looked down at LJ. “That was a silly thing to do,” Rory chided softly. “Missing a day, even missing a few days, is no big deal. What if you had the flu? You would have gotten everyone else sick.”
    “But I was afraid if I didn’t come, you’d put Frankie Dunlop in goal and you’d see he’s better than me and I’d never be in goal again.”
    “Now that is pure madness,” Rory assured him. “Haven’t Jackson and I been rotating you all?”
    “Yes, but I’m best in goal. My dad, he always said so.”
    Rory flashed Erin a quick look as if to say,
That feck is still around?
Erin gave a small shrug. She was not about to get into Sandra’s business with Rory if she could avoid it.
    Erin looked down at her patient. “Are you well enough to let me take you home, do you think?”
    “I don’t know,” LJ said piteously. “I might need to have a good rest here for a little while longer. I’d hate to upchuck in your da’s Fiesta, Erin.”
    Erin pressed her lips together to avoid laughing. The whole town knew about her father’s obsession with his car.
    “Guess what? We’re going to have a big adventure in that department.”
    Some color leapt into LJ’s cheeks. “What?”
    Erin lowered her voice. “We’re going home in a cab.”
    “A cab!” LJ exclaimed. “I’ve never been in a cab.”
    Erin smiled weakly. “Well, it’ll be fun.” She rose. “I’ll just ring for it, shall I? Will you be all right for a few minutes?”
    LJ nodded his head.
    Erin walked into the hall and took out her mobile. Rory followed.
    “Erin, don’t call a cab.”
    She ignored him as she flipped open her phone.
    “Don’t call a cab,” he repeated more emphatically.
    “Why on earth would you think this is any concern of yours?”
    “I have a perfectly good car sitting in the parking lot. I could run you and Larry—LJ—home, no problem.”
    Erin looked at him a moment before chortling with disbelief. “Sod off, Rory. I’d rather pluck my own eyes out of my head than get in a car with you.”
    “Yeah? What about LJ? You want him puking in a cab?”
    Erin scowled. “No.”
    “So then let me do this for him.”
    “No. Not only do I not want our lives to intersect in any way, but I remember how you drive.”
    “I drive fine,” Rory protested.
    “Oh, yes, you drive great. I seem to remember a certainsomeone nearly wrapping us around a tree after swerving to avoid some sheep.”
    “That was a long time ago. I’d forgotten about it. I’m surprised you remember.”
    “I remember lots of things. Like you wrecking my life. Did that one slip out of the ole memory box after too many pucks to the head?”
    “Erin, I swear to God—”
    “Spare me.” She started toward the complex door.
    “Where are you going?”
    “I’m going to ask Jackson to bring me home.”
    “Jackson is in the middle of coaching.”
    “You two can just switch places.”
    “Erin,” said Rory, raising his voice, “would you stop being bullheaded and just let me take you and LJ home? Do it for him, yeah?”
    “Fine,” Erin said grumpily. “As long as it’s just for LJ. And I