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“Even that was more information than I needed.”
“Well, maybe you’ll think twice before you go around borrowing deodorant.”
“Winslow, Bowman, you’re worse than a couple of toddlers fighting over the last cookie. Give it a goddamn rest or I’ll change the starting lineup, and one of you isn’t going to be happy about it.” Jake has the uncanny ability to appear out of nowhere, generally when those two are in the middle of one of their bitchfests. Since Queenie made the suggestion, they’ve been putting them on the same line for home games to change things up, and so far the results have been highly favorable. While Queenie might not always believe it, it’s clear that she has good instincts and she sees solutions or possibilities that others might miss.
“Rook used my deodorant.”
Jake grimaces. “That’s just wrong.”
“He divulged personal information about my sister’s sexual-position preferences.” Rook thumbs over his shoulder at Bishop.
“I was joking, and I only said it after you used my deodorant.”
“Just get your asses dressed and game ready.” Jake turns to me. “King, you good?”
“Yes, sir.”
He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “It’s been a rough week; thanks for sticking by her,” he says quietly.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, sir.”
He nods, then continues on over to Corey, expression stoic. I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it’s been for Jake to deal with him through all this.
Bishop and I finish getting game ready. “Hey, check this out.”
He shows me his phone. There’s a picture of Queenie with Lainey and Stevie, hair done and dressed in my jersey and a pair of jeans, and she’s smiling. It looks genuine.
Once we’re on the ice, I scan the arena, look for the girls, and find them up in a box. At least Queenie is here, even if she’s not close enough to steal a kiss from. I find my family in another box on the other side of the arena.
I shift my focus away from my family and Queenie—the latter is more difficult than the former—and get my head in the game. It’s intense since we’re playing one of the best teams in the league, but I manage to keep the puck out of our net during the first period, and Rook scores a goal. In the second period our opposition gets lucky with a rebound off the bar, but Bishop scores for Seattle, keeping us ahead in the game. In the third Corey gets back-to-back penalties, putting us at a serious disadvantage. Offense has to work twice as hard to keep the puck on the other end of the rink, and the defensemen are all over it, protecting the net. We take the game 3–2, so it’s still a win, but I blame Corey and his chippy playing for the close score.
Regardless, we won, my family is here, Queenie’s divorce is finalized, and we’re in a good place, which I’m taking as a positive sign.
Half an hour later I’m showered and dressed in my suit, ready to meet up with everyone. Bishop and I arrive at the bar together. My phone is blowing up with messages from my family, and I have a bunch from Hanna, which I assume is her letting me know she’s here. I hear my family before I see them.
“Oh, man, you ready for this? Sounds like Gerald is already three sheets to the wind.” Bishop’s expression is somewhere between a cringe and a smirk.
“It would be cause for concern if he wasn’t.” I shake out my hands, almost like I’m preparing for a fight. My family in public can be a lot to deal with. At least my cousin Billy didn’t tag along, as he sometimes likes to do. “You see Queenie anywhere?”
“Stevie messaged a while ago and said they’re waiting for the bathroom, and there’s a line or something. Sucks to have to sit to pee.”
It’s at that moment that Gerald spots me from across the restaurant and yells my name. My entire family turns around as if they’ve been practicing a choreographed dance move. My mother pushes through the crowd, not gently either. She elbows at least three people out of the way. I love my family, but man, they can be a rowdy bunch.
“King! What an incredible game! Kept me on the edge of my seat. I’m pretty sure your father nearly peed his pants a couple of times; it’s a good thing he wears Depends when we go to events like these.” She pats my cheek and smiles, then hugs me. She may or may not be joking about the Depends. “How are you, honey? I know the last week has been a struggle.”
“I’m actually doing fine. I wanted to—”
“That’s great. I’m so glad! And I brought you something that’s going to brighten your day even more than a family visit! Come on, let me show you!” She grabs my hand and pats Bishop on the chest as we pass. “Hi, Bishop. I just need to steal our baby boy for a few minutes.”
