Page 13 of Hard to Get

“Being the Devil’s advocate…” LG says. “Maybe it’s better to let the refs deal with that.” All of us make groans of disagreement and LG grins. “I know, I know. It’s been drilled into us our whole lives.”

“Okay, but no sucker punches is a good rule,” Sammy goes on. “And we don’t shoot pucks into an empty net. We don’t touch the goalie.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But if someone does that to our goalie, we throw down.”

Actually, I’m not sure that’s true. It’s one of the things that bugs me about this team. I remember last season when Miller from Pittsburgh shoved Frosty into the net just as the whistle blew. I was on the bench, and I expected every guy on the ice to go after him, but no. Nothing.

The game is starting but it’s only an exhibition game so we keep talking as we watch. We’ve got our eyes on a few guys, though. Most of our forward group is already set, but the fourth line isn’t. There are two guys who’ve played for the farm team who could fill depth roles maybe with Abby at center, but there’s also our first round draft, Finnegan Kemper, who’s fucking amazing.

“It’s been fun playing with him at camp,” I remark, referring to Finn. “He’s so fucking fast.”

“Yeah,” LG agrees. “Great skater, fantastic edges.”

“We could use his speed,” Rocky says.

“Hell, yeah.”

“You old guys are too slow,” Cammy says, meaning me and LG.

“Fuck off,” I say mildly. “I’m not even in my prime yet.”

Yeah, we could use the rookie’s speed. We could use a lot of things. Maybe this season will be different.

My inner skeptic isn’t very confident, though. I hate it that I’m not looking forward to the start of the regular season like I used to. All this losing is turning me into a real doomster.

5

STELLA

It’s nearly six o’clock when I finally leave the office, the building quiet as I take the elevator down to the lobby and exit onto Granville. I would have stayed later but Betty is waiting for me, waiting for her walk and her dinner and some cuddles.

The rain has mostly let up, but everything is drenched as I head toward home, the streets and sidewalks shiny, tires of cars hissing on the wet pavement. The office is close enough to home to walk. It’s a great neighbourhood, albeit pricey, and close to so many things. Including the London Drugs store I pop into because I’m out of shampoo, tampons, and nearly out of mascara.

I hurry the rest of the way home, mindful of my baby, Betty, waiting for me. She greets me ecstatically, and I crouch down to hug her and pet her and kiss her nose. “Hi, pretty girl. How are you? How was your day? I’m sorry I’m so late. I had a busy day! How about you? No? You were just lazy? That’s okay.”

I know she understands every word I say.

Without bothering to change out of my work clothes—wide-leg grey pants, snug black top, and a tweedy jacket—I grab Betty’s leash and hook her up. I’d like nothing more than to retreat into my cozy refuge, put some eye patches on my undereye bags, and pour a glass of wine. But if I do that, Betty won’t get her walk.

“Okay, let’s go, princess.”

The street outside is shaded by trees, which are lovely, but even though it’s not raining, water drips on us from the leaves above. We hurry to the park in the darkening evening.

Of course I think of Jayden.

I roll my eyes at myself. I’ve thought about him a lot since our two encounters. When I saw him Friday night, I’d almost been ready to ask him out for a drink, regretting my pass when he’d asked me out. But he’d been in a hurry with Friday-night plans, and I have no doubt that included a woman. Oh well.

Having seen him twice here is what’s making me think of him. It’s unlikely I’ll run into him again.

Wrong.

There he is, walking toward us on the path, Frank on the leash. As soon as Frank spies us, he starts pulling at the leash, which draws Jayden’s attention to us.

I smile and shake my head.

But he’s not alone. Two kids are with him, skipping along behind him.

My curiosity immediately spikes.