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“Well, that isn’t what happened.” Good thing I don’t teach, or having rumors circulating about me could be worse to deal with.
“It’s interesting that you and Noah Ramsey are both from Pittsburgh and went to the same high school.”
Kira quickly looks at Ginny. “You didn’t tell me that!”
She shrugs. “Just looked it up while I was waiting for practice to be over.”
“Okay, okay. Enough about this. Are you guys going to play or should I pack up and go home?”
“Have a hockey game to get to, by chance?” Ginny smirks.
I look at Kira. “I’m glad she’s not on the team. She talks too much.”
The girls laugh and return to their places to continue to play for twenty more minutes before relieving me to go home, joking about how they didn’t want to make me any later to the hockey game than I’m already going to be. Unfortunately, I forgot to put my jersey in the car. I do have some over-the-counter pain relievers, though, and I take a few of those for my shoulder. We played longer than I should have.
I drive straight to the arena since the puck should’ve dropped at some point in the last twenty minutes. Once I’m there, I park in the reserved section for the players’ families. Noah’s parents, Carol and William, should already be here.
A few minutes later, I open the door to the box, which seems full. Sylvia, the nosy and kind of pushy one from the BBQ, notices me first.
“Oh! Meredith is here! We were wondering when you would join us.” She loops an arm through mine and walks me over to where Noah’s parents and a few other women are. I’m reintroduced to some of the wives and kids and do my best to remember their faces and names for future use.
“How are you settling in?” Sylvia asks.
“Pretty well. Where are the girls?”
“Scott’s parents are watching them tonight. We should get together for lunch sometime. Theresa is my closest friend, so we usually try to go out to eat about once a week or so, but that can be tough to manage when the guys are gone. She has two busy teenagers, who aren’t old enough to drive yet, so she has to cart them off everywhere and get everything done during the day before she does.”
“Everyone seems pretty close,” I comment.
“Most of us are. There’s always bad apples.” She leans in and points to a woman who is married to Bradley Potter, one of our wingers. “She likes to stir shit up if she learns of any drama. I’m nosy, but I don’t spread the news. I only like knowing it. I think it’s just because Bradley is so boring, she needs some kind of excitement in her life.”
I zone out as she rattles on about a few of the other ladies and their husbands. Shouldn’t I be watching the game? But then I perk up at the mention of Marc.
“I was thinking of setting him up with one of my friends.”
“Really? Do you think he’d go for it?”
She scoffs. “I’ll have to convince her more than him.” My mouth parts to ask questions, but she waves me off. “Today is not the day to get into it. I just think he would be a good guy for her. I’ll have to bide my time and play my cards carefully if I want her to give it a shot. I’m hoping the whole opposites-attract thing hold
s true if it ever happens.”
The opposite of Marc doesn’t sound too good, and I’m not sure if he would be attracted to someone who wasn’t as funny, happy go-lucky, and carefree as he is. Then again, I don’t know how opposite the girl is compared to him either. Sylvia gets distracted by another woman, so I move to the empty seat next to Carol and William.
The second period is about to start and the Rebels are leading two to one.
“How come you were late?” Carol asks.
“I was helping two girls who wanted to stay after practice.”
William leans forward to look at me. “What’s it like working with Noah’s ex?”
I shrug. “Could be worse.”
“But could also be better?”
I nod. Not wanting to discuss it for the second time today, I ask if they have any pictures of Ashley’s baby, Nicholas. Smiles break out on both of their faces as they pull out their phones to show me images. This is the only time Carol seems truly genuine with me. Seeing the precious baby boy does all sorts of things to me. But it isn’t until I see a photo of Noah holding the baby, presumably taken the day before I ran into him at the airport, do I struggle to hold back tears.
Noah is grinning and acting as if he and the baby are fist bumping. In actuality, the baby is crying and his little hand is curled into a fist as his arm stretched out.
