So sorry. Tonight isn’t going to work out. Wish that weren’t the case.
He starts typing a response immediately, like maybe he’s been waiting for my text. So I feel even worse.
Beck
OK. I get it. But Wednesday is your inviolable monthly poker night. And Thursday I’m already gone on my road trip. So I guess I’ll see you next week.
I mean, I hope I will.
Oof. I sink down on a chair. Then I google inviolable. It means never to be broken, infringed, or dishonored.
Yeah, I guess he would see it that way. He doesn’t realize that this poker game is my last link to my former life—the one where I worked a corporate job and was married to a woman. The poker guys are my Dad Friends—the club of divorced dads who all have kids in the youth hockey program.
The thing is? I need those guys for this whole it-takes-a-village thing. In fact, I might be calling one of them in the next few minutes to beg him to pick up Charlie from practice.
I start composing another text. I’m sorry. I had some hiccups this week but hopefully I’ll be more fun by the time you get back from your next road trip.
But then my thumb hovers over the Send button. I can’t bring myself to hit it. I reread the text and realize I’m still keeping Beck on ice, still keeping my distance despite the fact I know it hurts him.
He deserves better.
I pull up his number in my call log.
“Hey, Forest?”
My chin jerks up to find Craig standing in front of me. “Yeah?”
“I’ve got some bad news and some just irritating news.”
Fuck. “Hit me with it.”
“Your transmission is toast. And fixing it is going to cost more than you should pay. Also, your axel is cracked. It’s time, man. We gotta take ’er out back and shoot ’er.”
My stomach drops again. “I see. That better be the bad news. What’s the irritating part?”
“I won’t have a rental vehicle available for…” He looks at his watch. “Another hour and a half. But then I can put you in a Honda CRV, at least for a few days. Give you time to buy a truck or negotiate a lease.”
My bank account lets out a painful whimper. “Right. I see.”
He gives my shoulder a quick squeeze. “Save me a seat at the bar for Friday night’s game, and I’ll give you a house discount on the rental.”
I force a smile, because Craig is the best. It’s not his fault my life is a dumpster fire. “Sure thing, boss.”
He leaves me alone again with my troubled thoughts. I’ve got more issues to deal with, including Beck. No time like the present. I tap his number.
He answers after just one ring. “Hey. An actual phone call? Damn.”
The sound of his voice makes me close my eyes. I can picture him with his lanky legs crossed on the coffee table, thinking deep thoughts. “Hi. How are you?”
“Kinda bored,” he says. “I’m not allowed to practice this week. Muscle strain.”
“Oh shit,” I breathe. “Where?”
He chuckles. “My groin, if you must know. It’s not serious. The trainers are just resting me. Honestly, I’m taking all their caution as a win. They want me to start against Texas on Friday.”
“Ah.”
“What, no groin jokes? I expected more from you.”
