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“Don’t you see, baby, I can have you in my lifeandhave a stellar career. They can go hand in hand. Other players do it. Why can’t we?”
I walk around the dining table and pull her into my arms.
She sniffles quietly, and then pulls back. “Guess I look like shit now, huh?”
“No worse than me. C’mon. I’m going to run you a bath and then clean up the dishes.”
She picks up our dirty plates, but I take them from her and set them in the sink. “I can get this stuff.”
I shake my head with force. “Absolutely not. C’mon. I’m getting you in the tub. Then I’m cleaning up. And if you’re not totally sick of me, I’ll join you.”
“What if the tub water’s cold by then?” she asks.
I shrug. “I’ll join you anyway.
46
RAKE
I’m drivingto practice early the next morning when my phone rings.
“Hi Dad,” I say.
“Hello, son. I saw your press conference the other day.”
I have no doubt he’s calling with criticism of some kind. But he’s not going to get me down.
“It was great, don’t you think? The whole team was happy for me, with the way things went.”
He clears his throat. Here it comes. “Rake, you’re being a fool.”
Don’t beat around the bush, old man.
“I had a feeling you might say something like that, Dad.”
He scoffs. “I bet you did. Now listen, you cannot go putting a woman ahead of your career. That is the… stupidest thing you could possibly do. You’ve worked too hard?—”
“Dad, has it occurred to you that I can have both? A successful careeranda woman?”
How many other people am I going to have to convince of this? First Petal, and now my father.
“Don’t be glib with me, Rake. And don’t be so naïve?—”
“Hey, Dad,” I interrupt, “I just arrived at the rink. Let’s talk later when you can show me some respect, okay?”
Click.Yes, I just hung up on my father. Something I thought I’d never do.
“Yo, Rake,” Tyler says when I get to the locker room. He slaps me on the back. “How’s your beautiful wife?”
I pull out my practice clothes, which stink to high heavens. “She’s fun, Ty. But I’m wondering why my practice stuff wasn’t washed.”
I look at the guys around me and they all turn away quickly. Tyler, on the other hand, does not, and is shaking with laughter.
“You did not,” I say, throwing my putrid workout clothes at him and everyone else around.
The guys are yelling and dodging the stench, so I take a particularly bad pair of shorts, and stick them right in Tyler’s red face. “You think taking my stuff out of the laundry is funny? Well, I think it’s funny as hell rubbing the scent of my sweaty ball sack and asshole right up your nose.”
Tyler wrestles my rank practice clothes out of his face and bends over, gagging, while everyone else in the locker room is in hysterics. I have to say, it feels good to laugh, even on the receiving end of one of Tyler’s practical jokes.
