Bailey swallowed. That sounded like Poppy thought it had been over something to do with Bailey.
“Just remember that fighting is pretty close to inevitable for anyone who has been playing a few years.”
“But he’s a Christian.”
“And he still is. Salvation isn’t dependent on whether a man punches or not.”
True. She sucked in a breath. “I still can’t—”
“I know. And you need to let it go. If he wants to explain himself, then okay. But he might not. I know Franklin has always felt a little embarrassed that he got goaded into something.”
She sighed. There was so much about this sport she’d never thought to know.
Luc appeared, and Poppy gave the conversational zest needed, while Bailey did her best to appear okay. But when Poppy exited, and Luc shifted to study her, she knew he’d noticed her less-than-peppy attitude.
“Bails.”
That tender note in his voice drew emotion, and she blinked hard to keep it away.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He grasped her hand.
“I’m sorry. I should be all cheerleader-like, right? But I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”
“I get it. It’s a lot.”
“Why did you do it?”
“The fight, you mean?” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have. It was dumb, especially when it’s basically an exhibition game which ultimately doesn’t mean a thing. But I felt like I needed to draw a line, especially as we play Vancouver a lot, and I wanted to let Johansen know I won’t stand for that. I wasn’t going to let anyone disrespect anyone I care about.”
“Did he say something mean about me?”
He winced. “I really didn’t mean to imply that.”
“So it’s true. Well, in that case…”
He glanced quickly at her.
“Good.”
“Good?”
Her chin lifted. “I appreciate you standing up for me.”
“Thank you for understanding.” He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry for worrying you. The team weren’t too happy, but I think they understand now.” He shot her a wry look. “I won’t be doing that anytime again soon.”
“I hope not. I want you in one piece. But hey, at least you won.”
He chuckled. “I love the fact you care about that.”
“It must be that competitive thing, right?”
“Right.”
He leaned closer and kissed her, and suddenly it didn’t matter about the fight, or her father, or anything else at all. All that mattered was this was a good man, who wanted to stand up for those he cared about.
“No. I don’t like it. I really think you need to keep away from him. He’s violent.”
Bailey studied her parents across the dining table as Sunday’s lunch grew cold. Luc was away this weekend, and she had attended her parents’ church this morning, then joined them for a meal as per usual. She pressed her lips together. She should’ve known this was an excuse for her father to dump on Luc. And there was never a better time than when the man wasn’t here to defend himself.
“I can’t give my blessing to a man who is prone to violence. I just won’t.”
“But that’s what Luc does, Dad. He protects people. He never lets me down. I can always count on him.”
“But he’s so different to you. He’s not your type.”
“Dad, no. Please stop.”
“But Bailey, we care about you.”
“And so does he!”
She peeked at her mom, but her mother’s head was bowed, as if she too had had this conversation with her father and knew the outcome. Some days when Dad got on his high horse about things there was no reasoning with him. She glanced around the room, the kitchen cabinets with their diamond glass showcasing Mom’s porcelain collection. Everything the same. Dad with his prejudice, Mom with her silence, the quiet enabler.
She dropped her head. Was it disrespectful to think of her parents in this way?
“We just want you to be safe,” her father said.
“I know you do,” she murmured.
