The Year We Fell Down (The Ivy Years, #1)

“I mean, a few broken bones is pretty tame by comparison,” Bridger continued, oblivious.

The tension on Dana’s face drew Hartley’s attention. He looked from Dana to me to Bridger. And then understanding dawned on his face. “Bridge?” Hartley said, his voice edgy. “Can you grab the wine off the kitchen counter?”

Lucy hopped out of her chair. “I’ll get it!”

“I get so sick of people saying hockey is only for bruisers,” Bridger continued. “It’s just not true.”

“Dude,” Hartley said, exasperated. “Shut up already.”

Bridger looked up at the faces around him. When his gaze landed on me, his mouth fell open. “Oh, Jesus Christ.”

Next to him, Hartley’s mom wore a look of undisguised horror.

“I’m sorry…” Bridger shook his head, speechless. “No idea…”

“There’s no need,” I said quickly. I really wasn’t going to talk about my accident on Thanksgiving.

Just at that second, Lucy came bounding back into the room. “Here,” she said, handing Hartley a bottle of vinegar.

He stared at it in his hand. “Um, thanks?” he set it down on the table.

“Hey,” Lucy said. “We have to say what we’re thankful for.” She climbed back in her chair and looked at all of us expectantly.

Theresa swallowed hard, and then her eyes went soft. “You’re right, Lucy. Do you want to start?”

“Sure! I’m thankful for…” her little brow wrinkled in thought. “Ice cream, and no homework over Thanksgiving. And mom and Bridger. Oh — and all the Christmas specials start this weekend.”

Bridger leaned back in his chair, his eyes made darker by the candlelight. “That’s a good list, kid,” he said gently. I got a lump in my throat as he put his big hand on her little shoulder. “If I’m next…” he looked around the table again. “Then I’m thankful for the whole crew here. Because you all put up with me,” his smile was shy.

“Well you took mine,” Dana said. “So I’ll say how awesome it is to be back in America. This year so far has been just as great as I’d hoped it would be.”

Then it was Hartley’s turn. “Well, I’m grateful for Advil, and beer, and elevators, and my mom putting up with me. And for good friends who drink beer and ride elevators and drive me places. And put up with me.”

Theresa was next, holding her glass of wine in the candlelight. “I’m just happy to see all of your shining faces around my table tonight.” She beamed at each of us in turn. “Thank you for coming.”

That left only me. And while I’d been enjoying hearing what nice things my friends had to say, the truth was that I couldn’t think of anything to add. Because I hadn’t been a very thankful person lately. “I’d like to say thanks to whichever computer makes the roommate assignment selections. And for getting to sit here with all of you tonight.”

And that’s the best I could do. At least for right then.





Chapter Ten: There's Always Custom



— Corey

“I’m no good at clearing the table,” I said, balancing my weight against the countertop. “But I can wash or dry.”

Hartley tossed me a dish-towel, and Theresa handed me a wet serving bowl.

Bridger walked past the doorway of the kitchen carrying Lucy piggyback style. “I read two chapters already,” he said. “Now you’re going to sleep.” I heard his footsteps on the stairs.

“Why aren’t you going to sleep?” Lucy argued.

“I will,” he said. “After I have a beer with Hartley.”

“I’ll wait up for you,” she said.

“If you wait with your eyes closed, that’s okay,” he said, chuckling. A half hour later? he came into the living room alone, bringing two six-packs with him.

“You know why I invited you two?” Hartley asked Dana and I, taking a deck of cards out of a drawer in the coffee table.

“Why?” Dana asked.

“So that we could play euchre, of course.”

I clapped my hands together. “Yes! Girls against the boys.”

“Bring it.” Bridger cracked open a beer, offering it to Dana.

“But I don’t know what euchre is,” she said, reaching for the bottle.

“Fuck, really? And here I thought Japanese schools were superior.” He cupped his hands to his mouth. “Hey, mom?”

Teresa stuck her head in the room. “You rang?”

“We need a fourth for euchre. Dana doesn’t know how.”

“Ah,” she said, coming in. “The best game ever. Do you know anything about bridge? Euchre is like bridge for idiots. Once you watch a couple of hands, you’ll be good to go.” She took a seat, and the beer that Bridger offered her.

Hartley ran through the rules for Dana. “And there’s one kind of cheating that’s legal.”

“Wait,” Dana said. “If it’s legal, how is it cheating?”

“Just go with it, Dana,” he said. “In euchre, you can steal the deal. If the dealer doesn’t realize it’s his turn, and you step in, you keep the advantage.”

“This is so complicated,” Dana complained.

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