Page 24 of Meant For Her


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Keely: See you then. Have a good night, Christopher.

I’m about to toss my phone to the side when another text comes in, and this time it’s from Guy.

“People are just on the ball tonight,” I mumble as I read his text.

Guy: There is a local team called Pirates. The good news is they are just starting up for the season. Spoke to my contact over there, he’s waiting for your call. Let me know if you need anything else. Richard 878-355-2398

Me: Thanks, man, appreciate it.

Only after I send the text do I put my phone away before going to take a shower. I get up the next day, my head feeling all over the place. I get dressed in my light gray pants and a long-sleeved waffle shirt. I grab the black Tom Ford belt before putting on my white sneakers and heading out the door.

I put the address in the GPS even though I know where it is. It’s a force of habit, plus it tells me if there is traffic, and the one thing I can’t do is traffic. I mean me and a million other people.

As soon as I pull out of the driveway, I hit up the number that Guy sent me. I’m expecting to be leaving a voicemail, but the man answers after three rings. “Richard Sithal.”

“Hi, Richard, my name is Christopher. I got your number from Guy at Locker Room Ice.” I tap the steering wheel. “I was looking to get my girls into a hockey camp or skating, whichever one you have.” The way “my girls” slips out and I don’t correct myself is something I have to think about later.

“Hey, Christopher,” he says, “how old are the girls?” The conversation lasts five minutes, and he gives me the information about an open skating this Saturday morning at eight o’clock at Guy’s arena. After I hang up the phone with him, I immediately call Dakota.

She answers after five rings and sounds out of breath. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“I’m cutting the grass and planting a tree,” she pants. “What’s up?”

“Don’t you have a lawn service?” I pull into the parking lot of the coffee shop.

“Yeah, but I canceled it.” Her breathing sounds like it’s getting more controlled. “Is that what you called me for?”

“No,” I say, but then a million questions are coming to my head, like why the fuck isn’t someone cutting her grass? And what kind of tree is she planting and why? Instead, I look over and see the girl I’m supposed to be meeting. “I’m calling because I want to know if the kids have hockey gear.”

“They did,” she says, “but that was last year. Why?”

“I found a skating class for them to try out this Saturday morning at eight o’clock,” I tell her. “The guy said to bring them in and see if they like it. But they have to be dressed.” Keely lifts her hand from beside my truck. “Can you send me their sizes, and I’ll get them stuff?”

“Don’t buy anything yet,” she snaps. “Let me see what fits and what doesn’t, and I’ll go from there.”

“Okay,” I agree, trying to prolong the conversation but knowing I have to get off the phone. “I have to go.” I look down. “Later.”

She doesn’t bother answering me. Instead, she just hangs up. I exhale before I turn off the truck and open the door. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to block out the conversation I just had. “Hi.” I walk to her and extend my hand while she goes in for a kiss on the cheek. “Oh.” I try to go left and right while she laughs. “Sorry,” I say.

“No worries.” She laughs it off, and her brown eyes light up. “It’s nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” I say, “shall we go inside?” I hold out my hand for her to walk in front of me. She looks over at me, and the only thing I can think of is how long before I can leave without her thinking I’m an asshole.

I wish I could say the rest of the date went well. It didn’t. Keely tried to ask me questions, but my answers were one word. I would counter, ask the same questions and just nod, not putting in a word more. Let’s just say when we left there, I wanted to kick my own ass. Luckily for me, I don’t have time to dwell on it because there’s a preseason game tonight.

We end up winning three to one, but it doesn’t count, so no one cares. When I get home, I look at my texts to see if Koda texted me, but obviously, she didn’t. The only one who texted me is Keely.

Keely: Thank you for today. It was so much fun.

My eyebrows pinch together because it was not fun. Nothing about it was fun. It was like getting a root canal over and over again. Or watching wet paint dry.

Keely: Hope we can do it again.

She ends it with a smiley face, and instead of just saying yeah, that sounds good, let me check my schedule, my head has other ideas.

Me: Yeah, that sounds great. If you aren’t busy in two weeks, how about you join me for the first game of the season?

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