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“Oh.” One of my eyebrows raises automatically. “Why did you decide to pit one against the other?”
“Because Andrew is way cooler than my dad,” she says, still making the dolls skate over the imaginary ice rink.
I’m trying not to freak out. “Was it Andrew who said he’s cooler than your dad?”
She shakes her head and then drops the dad doll in favor of Andrew’s.
“Andrew won!”
Alissa raises her arms in the air, then runs and jumps around the room. I am trying to figure out where all this is coming from.
“Did Andrew talk to you about your dad, Ali?” I ask very seriously.
Stopping, she looks down and appears consumed in thought.
“He said he’s my dad. Well, he didn’t actually say anything, but I think that’s what he meant,” she explains, an index finger on her lip.
“What?” I cough, trying to slow my thundering heart. “When?” I am seething, but not letting it show.
“That day he went to school with me. Did I do something wrong, mommy?”
“No, sweet pea.” I force a laugh and stand to go kiss the top of her head. “But I think Andrew did.”
“Are you angry with him?” she looks up with big puppy eyes.
“Depends on how sorry he will be, Ali.” I force myself to keep smiling for her sake.
What did he do to make her think that?
I leave the subject as it is for now, but the first thing I do after tucking Alissa in bed is look up the Razorhawks’ schedule. I see they’ll be in Michigan tomorrow.
After a sleepless night, I ask mom the next morning if she can watch Alissa for me and ask my brother for a day off. I then set out on an impromptu road trip to Detroit.
When I arrive at the hockey arena, I call Andrew to find out where he is and check if I can get a courtesy ticket. Also, to tell him that I’m upset with him and am going to slap him as soon as I see him.
Okay, maybe not that last part, but all the rest, yes.
It’s the fifteenth time I’m calling and still no answer. I finally give up and head for the ticket booth to buy one.
“Hi, do you have any tickets available still?” I ask the young guy with prominent braces.
He checks the computer, then turns the screen to me. “There are some upper-level seats available.”
“Those will have to do. I’ll take one please.”
“Alright,” the teller nods, telling me the cost.
As I'm about to pay, my phone finally rings.
“Hi, Andrew,” I say, trying to be heard above the noise. “I’m outside the stadium. Can you help me get in?”
“Emily, what a surprise! I'm gearing up for the game, but I'll let security know at Gate B to expect you. They'll let you in. I gotta go, game’s going to start soon!”
“Thanks!” I quickly reply before hanging up.
I turn to the teller, smile awkwardly, then take a step back. “I just got a freebie. Sorry!”
I start running off but immediately turn around. “Do you know where Gate B is?”
