The film keeps going. The opposing team is cycling the puck and the goalie is shifting in his crease and I can see it, the gap opening up on one side, and my mouth moves before my brain catches up.
“Glove side high.”
The shot comes. Glove side high. Goal.
Zach pauses the video and turns to look at me.
“Okay. That was more than luck.” He’s studying me now. “You said your dad plays beer league?”
My heart is in my throat. I pick at a thread on his couch cushion and I hear myself say, “Well, I’ve never heard anyone use the term ‘beer league’ to talk about The Show.”
I’m holding my breath waiting for him to put it together.
“Your dad was in the NHL.”
“Is.”
“Your dadisin the NHL.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“What team?”
I look at him. Fuck why is he making this so hard. The answer is right there on the screen, right there in this apartment, right there in every hallway I’ve walked through.
“Zach, it’s your team. It’s… it’s the Puckaneers.”
He doesn’t move. I watch it travel through him, every interaction we’ve ever had rewriting itself behind his eyes, the bar, the coffee shop, the practice facility.
“Your dad is Barrett?”
I blink. “What? Uncle Dean. Eww. Why would you think that?”
“He’s the only one old enough to?—”
“My dad is Jack Anderson.”
There. I said it. Now it’s out there and I can never go back to the weeks where I thought he’d picked me despite everything, where I thought he looked at the risk and decided I was worth it. He didn’t look at the risk because he didn’t know there was one.
His mouth opens and stays there. “Defenseman Jack Anderson.”
“Yes.”
“Two-time Norris Trophy finalist Jack Anderson.”
“That’s him.”
“Jack Anderson who’s about ten games away from his thousand lifetime games ceremony, Jack Anderson.”
“Yes, Zach. That’s the one.”
“Mackie, he’s been to the Olympics. TWICE.”
“I’m well aware of his stats, Zach.”
He stands up and walks to the kitchen.
I stay on the couch and listen to him open a cabinet. Then close it and open another one. He’s not getting anything. He’s just putting his hands on things, giving his body something to do while his brain catches up to the fact that he told Jack Anderson’s daughter he can’t stop thinking about her… well, the way she feels.
