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I also don’t hear from Poppy, which isn’t unexpected considering the only reason she would contact me is to report a cancellation.
My lower back still aches, and yesterday’s practice didn’t help at all. Still, I’m about to head out for a training session at the gym. The last thing I want is to be benched for the game. I don’t want to go into the season as a target.
Tomorrow morning we fly out to Philly. We’re only ever gone for a couple of days at a time, but soon there will be longer stretches. If I’m going to get relief for the aches, I need a massage or something today. I send Poppy a message asking about cancellations, then pack my gym bag and drive over to Randy’s.
A few minutes after I text him that I’ve arrived, he comes out of his house, tosses his stuff in the back, and climbs into the passenger seat.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
“Not bad. You?”
Before I can shift the Hummer into gear, Lily bursts out the front door. She’s holding something as she runs toward my Hummer. Randy rolls down his window, and she steps up on the running board.
“You forgot your phone.”
“Thanks, luscious.”
“No problem.” She kisses his cheek, then turns to me. “You’re looking better.”
I raise a hand in a wave. “Thanks.”
“I’ll see you around seven, okay?” she says to Randy.
She goes to step down, but his arm shoots out and keeps her where she is. He leans in and whispers something in her ear.
She lets out a breathy laugh. “Go burn off some energy so I can deal with you tonight.”
He pulls her in for a kiss, and I keep my eyes on the steering wheel, because it sure isn’t a PG one. After a moment Lily disengages, despite Randy’s protest. She apologizes to me, slips out of his grasp, and runs back to the house.
Randy runs his hands down his thighs as we pull away.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Mostly.” He strokes his beard. “I kinda wish we were playing this game at home, you know?”
He’s not talking about home ice advantage. “Can she fly out?”
“I already tried that. She’s gotta work this weekend, and we’re only gone a couple of days. Besides, even if she could rearrange her schedule, she wants to be here with Sunny while Miller’s away.”
“Yeah, right. That’s gotta be hard on him, aye?”
“He’s pretty fucking freaked out that Sunny’s gonna go into labor while we’re away.”
“It kinda still blows my mind that he’s having a kid.”
“If there’s anyone who can handle it, it’s Miller, you know? Sunny’s chill, and he doesn’t get all worked up about much, so they’ll be okay no matter how it rolls out. And it’s good that Lily’s gonna be here, even if it means she can’t come to the away games.”
“Are you worried about her not being there?”
“I’m used to seeing her every day, so it’s gonna be an adjustment.”
I nod like I understand, even though I don’t. Not really. When Tash and I were doing what we were doing, it was always secretive and on the down low. I saw her almost every day for training sessions, but we never actually talked to each other while other people were around.
The time we got caught in the locker room was an isolated incident she manipulated me into.
“You hear anything else from Tash this week?”
“Other than text messages and voicemails telling me I’m an asshole and she hates me, nope.”
“Man, you must’ve really pissed her off.”
“Yup.”
“You wanna talk about it at all?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Just know if you run into problems with her, or she shows up looking to cause trouble, you can always call me and Lily.”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled.” That’s untrue. I don’t have it handled at all, but I’m not about to drag Randy and Lily into my messed up BS.
I’ve never told Randy, and probably never will, about the why behind the actions. Explaining the whole mess with Tash would require far more than I’m interested in divulging to him, or anyone else, about my messy, fucked-up past and the shit I had to deal with as a kid. I tried telling Tash, and I know where it got me.
We arrive at the gym with lots of time to change and warm up before the workout starts. I check my phone in case I missed a message from Poppy, but there’s nothing, so I toss it in my bag and stuff that in my locker, hoping I’ll hear from her by the time I’m done at the gym.
I’m slow and uncoordinated during the training session, and the ache in my lower back gets progressively worse, as does the twinge in my neck.
Smart finds me in the locker room before I have a chance to get changed and pulls me aside, looking less than pleased. “Did you make another appointment with the massage therapist like I told you to?”
