“Ready for the game?”
“I don’t go to the games.”
Fletcher is watching me. I point to the rookies. He ignores me.
“Well, we have one tonight, and we don’t have an equipment manager or anything like that.”
Silence from Dana.
“And I know you said hiring freeze, but someone has to manage sticks and sharpen skates and—”
“He ripped my jersey!” One forward skates over to me, fabric in hand. I peer at it while I talk to Dana. There’s a hole in the collar of his jersey.
Dana sighs over the phone. “You can hire someone for minimum wage.”
“Well, actually, the going rate for this position is—”
Dana hangs up.
“Trouble on Mount Olympus?” Fletcher drawls. The forwards snicker.
The guys obviously respond to Fletcher. He’s setting the tone. And it’s a tone of dismissive disregard for me.
“Done!” Jovi is panting. “I did it!”
“Okay, gather up the pucks. Our new backup goalie should be getting onto the ice soon.”
“My jersey,” the other forward begs, hopping on his skates.
I wave over Granny Murray. “You’re getting a promotion.”
“Hell yeah! And your dad thinks old people shouldn’t work.”
“In his defense, I think he just meantyoushouldn’t work since you got arrested for stealing at Trader Joe’s.”
“They were just throwing all that food away. It was still good!”
“Team! Meet our new equipment manager.”
“Whoo! You studs are gonna have skates sharp enough to slice off the Direwolves’ balls!” Granny Murray whoops.
“Hell yeah!” Several of the guys pump their fists.
“First order of business,” I tell her. “Fletcher is our new associate captain. Let’s get anAon his shirt.”
“I—what?” Fletcher growls. “Candy Cane, I’m not taking any responsibility for any of these morons.”
“Excuse me. He’s allergic to nuts.” Braxton’s mother is slipping and sliding toward me on the ice.
“Ma’am, you cannot be on the ice.”
“I birthed him for nineteen hours. You don’t get to tell me where I can and can’t be with my own son.”
“We’re about to do shooting drills.”
Braxton settles in his crease. He looks the part, at least.
Zayne Murphy hacks up a lung, taps a puck with his stick, hauls back, and shoots the puck.
