“Some of them you’re already doing.” Crushers grins. “Squats. Some yoga poses. And some breathing exercises. I can show you.”
“You are not showing us your pelvic floor,” Benny says.
“Not here,” I say at the same time.
Crusher sighs. “Of course not here.”
Their lunacy makes me roll my eyes sometimes, but the truth is, I love these guys. We have such great chemistry even off the ice, and it’s always fun to hang out with them.
When it comes time to take care of the check, Benny tells us tonight, we’re doing the check number game. We all nod. We never bother asking for separate checks, or trying to figure out who owes what; one of us takes care of it, and we have different ways to decide who that is. Last year, the team-dinner gods were not on my side and I ended up paying the tab three times.
Benny takes the check when our server brings it and finds the number on it. “Okay, gentlemen, make your guesses.” We go around the table while each of us guesses and he tells us higher or lower. Things get a little rowdy with whoops and laughter at each guess, until finally, Smitty says, “Four twenty-two.”
Benny laughs and tosses the bill to him. “You win.”
“Or lose,” Smitty mutters, pulling out his credit card.
The rest of us cheer.
Some of the guys go back to the hotel, but Smitty, Benny and I take a walk. There’s a huge cruise ship docked at Canada Place.
“Those boats are massive,” I comment.
“Have you ever been on a cruise?” Benny asks.
“Nope. Not sure I want to.” I remember talking to Ayla about going on a cruise. In the end, we just went to Aruba. Memories of those trips flood back: all the fun we had, Ayla in a tiny bikini, under the sun…
“I went on one once,” Smitty says, bringing me back to reality. “Years ago. It was fun. There’s lots to do.”
The lights of Vancouver glow across the harbor, reflecting in the water, but the chill wind has us soon turning back to the hotel. Coach doesn’t set a specific curfew but we all know he expects us back in our rooms by ten o’clock. Fine with me. I’m not into the club scene or bar hopping anymore. Maybe tomorrow night after the game, since we don’t fly to Seattle until the next morning.
When I’m in bed, I pick up my phone and find a text message from Emma.
Emma
I had fun last night.
I hesitate over how to reply.
Carson
Me too.
Emma
When do you get back from your road trip?
Carson
Tuesday.
Emma
Maybe we could get dinner next week.
I hesitate again. I don’t know why. Emma’s cool and pretty. Nothing to object to. No “ick,” as the kids say.
Carson
