Page 61 of The Overtime Persuasive

A low chuckle comes from beside us. Lucy’s father stands with one hand in the pocket of his slacks, watching the replay.

There are famous athletes, and then there are athletes whose names become synonymous with the sport itself. He’s the person you point to when you’re explaining greatness.

Mr. Snyder played long enough to become a legend, and then he went behind the bench and proved he understood the game from there too. Even now, years after he left coaching, teams call when they need advice or feedback, and sportscasters still say his name with the reverence it deserves.

Yet, when one of his children has a game, you bet he’s going to be there.

“He had a good game,” he says.

“Good?” I look at him. “That is considered to only be good?”

“I don’t overpraise the Snyder kids.” The corners of his eyes crease. “Makes them unbearable.”

“I’m already unbearable,” Lucy tells him.

He laughs, and pulls her in with one arm. “See? And I can’t do anything about it.”

I look back at the television. The replay has moved on to Owen’s final save, but my thoughts are still stuck on Liam.

“I never realized how often he puts himself between everyone else and trouble.” I glance at Lucy, realizing a beat too late what I’ve revealed. I clear my throat. “Strictly in the hockey sense.”

Lucy’s eyebrows lift as she exchanges a look with her father. “Guess who spent the entire game watching Liam?”

I throw my hands in the air. “I was trying to understand what was happening.”

“And the only player you could study was Liam? There was a whole grouping of men out there you could watch, called a team, Eva.”

I choose to ignore her, and turn toward her father before she can start asking more questions I’m not prepared to answer in a room filled with people who share Liam’s last name.

“Have he and Tripp always been like that?”

“Competitive?” he asks.

“Like they might either score a goal together or strangle each other with their hockey sticks.”

He laughs. “For as long as Liam’s known Tripp, yes.”

“They’re better now than they were in college,” Lucy says.

“They understand each other,” Lucy’s father says, with the wisdom only a man who has his experience can muster. “Neither of them likes admitting it, but they do. Liam knows when Tripp will take a risk. Tripp knows Liam will be there if it fails. If they can stop trying to beat each other long enough to play together, they’ll be difficult to beat.”

The door from the locker-room hallway opens, and the first few players begin to enter, shifting the energy of the room instantly. Children run toward fathers. Partners step away from conversations. More players filter in one at a time, each arrival setting off a new ripple of movement.

I keep looking toward the door, trying not to be obvious. But judging by the way Lucy keeps glancing at me, perhaps I’m not as subtle as I think.

Tripp walks in wearing a dark suit with no tie, carrying his bag over one shoulder. He spots us and makes his way across the room.

“There’s my favorite landlord.”

He drops his bag beside a chair and pulls me into a quick hug. There’s nothing complicated about hugging Tripp. He’s warm, friendly, and easy in the way some people naturally are. The hug feels the same as one from Sawyer or an old friend.

When he steps back, I point at him. “I was going to call you tomorrow.”

“You were?”

“Les said he’ll be out by Wednesday. Give me a few days after to get the place cleaned for you, and you can start moving in soon.”

Tripp’s whole face brightens. “Fantastic. I’ll have my stuff ready.” He glances around the room. “Although, at this point, my stuff consists of two suitcases, three boxes, and a television I bought online last night.”