“Well, for one thing, pass him the goddamned puck at practice. And for another, you need to treat him like he doesn't have leprosy – take him under your wing. Make sure he knows he's welcome here. Make sureeveryone elseknows he’s welcome here.”
I think back to our conversation earlier this week in the locker room.
“I'm...not sure he'll be open to that. From me.”
At this point, he’d be a fool to trust even the smallest show of support, given what I’ve said and how I’ve treated him.
“Well, then you're going to have tomakehim open to that.”
I look at him balefully, realizing that my ability to make friends with Carter may be the only thing standing between me and early retirement.
As much asI hate that I’m going to have to have this conversation all over again with Alexei, I’m glad to be able to walk into my apartment and be greeted by the sight of food.
“I give you twenty minutes to eat. You look like sad puppy when you are hungry and I will not be able to stay as angry at you as I would like.” Alexei tells me from the sofa, where he is nursing a beer.
I don’t know whether to feel relieved or afraid.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be drinking during camp.”
“Last year I played for a team that barelymadethe playoffs and still had most shutouts in division. What will they do, trade me?”
He has a good point. I dig into the Chinese food he’s purchased — from the good place, near the arena — and appreciate that he didn’t play as fast and loose with my diet as with his own. I finish my sautéed veggies and chicken, but when I go to throw away the box, I see a telltale, grease-soaked wrapper in the trash.
“Really, Kovy? Egg rolls?”
“ I am growing boy, Ethan. Now come sit.”
Recognizing my reprieve has passed, I sit down on the sofa and face him.
“What is your problem with Jamie Carter, Ethan?”
I breathe a gusty sigh and fall backward on the couch.
“Why don’t you just take Ramsey’s approach and tell me I hate gay people?”
He is silent for long enough that it concerns me. I look up at him again, and his face is as serious as I’ve ever seen it.
“I do not think you hate gay men, Ethan.”
In spite of knowing that to be true, it relaxes me to hear that Alexei knows it, too. That he sees me as I really am.
“Ethan…I think you are afraid of them. Of him.”
The feeling of being seen is no longer comforting, but threatening. I stand and cross to the window, worried about what he will see on my face. What he’salreadyseen.
“Afraid?Whatwould I beafraidof? But what is it with you and Ramsey thinking I can just take this kid and make himlisten? Show him how to do thisimpossiblething?”
The quiet stretches, and looking at Alexei’s reflection in the window, I see something unusual: he is considering his words carefully. Mulling them over in his head before he speaks them aloud.
“I am not saying you need to be his best friend. And honestly? You can’t, because you are already taken. But don’t you think there are…things you could help him with?”
The look Alexei gives me is hard to decipher, but there is a definite plaintive nature to it. It’s like he wants me to understand something he isn’t saying.
“Help him? That’s all I’ve done is try to help him! But every time I talk to the kid, it’s like he knows best.”
“Ethan, how long have we been friends?”
“Well, you signed eight years ago, but it took me a while to learn how to put up with you. Let’s call it seven.”
