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She almost smiled. “It’s a tiny town in the Hecate Strait.”
There was a pause on the line before he said, “That’s damn near Alaska. How in the hell did you get all the way up there?”
“Jimmy Pagnotta and the Sea Hopper.”
“The flying tree frog?”
“Yeah.” Tears fell from her eyes. “I couldn’t marry Pete.”
“Well, you picked a hell of a way to get out of it.” The tone of his voice got deeper with anger. “I imagine Marie helped you with this ridiculous stunt.”
“Yes, but it’s not her fault.”
“It would have been a hell of a lot easier if you’d told me or your mother that you couldn’t marry that pansy ass instead of leaving your whole family to twist in the wind.” She could hear his anger building, and she knew the inevitable was about happen. “There are reporters camped outside the gates and two idiots jumped out from behind cars in the parking lot at the Key Arena! Your mother and I waited up all night to hear from you! We didn’t know if you were in Seattle or Mexico or actually made it to Sweden this time.”
“Sorry,” she said just above a whisper, and waited.
“You ran away instead of nutting up and dealing with the colossal fuckup you created!”
“I don’t have nuts, Dad.”
“Jesus Christ, Alexis!” he managed just before the inevitable hit and his words tu
rned into a long stream of mostly incomprehensible swearing. She could practically hear the steam blowing out of his ears.
She hated to make her parents angry. They had such perfect lives. She tried to make hers perfect, too, but she always seemed to fail. Especially when she acted without a thorough plan. “I’m sorry.” Tears stung her eyes and a sob came from deep in her chest next to her heart. “Everything got so-o big so fa-ast. I fe-elt trapped.”
“Don’t cry,” he said, which made her cry even harder. “You didn’t kill anybody.” He paused, then added, “Right?” as if that was a possibility.
“No-o.” She pulled her knees up to her chest. “I should ha-ave nutted u-up.”
“Honey, you don’t have nuts.” Her dad’s blowups were inevitable when he was pushed too far. Her latest “colossal fuckup” was definitely in the pushed-him-too-far category. Way too far, but her dad’s blowups always blew over quickly.
“Ho-ow’s Mom?”
“Worried. Scared. Mad, but it isn’t like she’s never run away from a wedding.” She heard a silent little laugh in his voice and relaxed a bit. “She hated that dress.”
“Me too.”
“When are you coming back?”
She let out a hiccupped breath. “Day after tomorrow. Hop-pefully no one will see me flying back in. And the gates to your neighborhood and the front of my apartment will be reporter fr-ree.”
“Your mother will be waiting for you here, but I’ll be in Pittsburgh.”
She breathed deep and let it out slowly. “I’m sure you’ll whoop some Penguin ass,” she managed without a break in her voice.
“I’m not so sure. I’m down a defenseman and my newest hotshot sniper won’t be on the roster. He said he has a family emergency, but he probably took time off to deep condition his flow.”
Lexie laughed for the first time in days. She knew how her dad felt about players concerned with their hair. She also knew that her dad hated showoffs. Apparently, Mr. Hotshot was both and had earned a double dose of disdain.
“Goddamn nancy-pants. I’d love to rearrange his Chiclets and see how arrogant he is without his front teeth.”
She could bring up that several of her father’s teeth were implanted ceramic and titanium. Instead she wanted to know, “How’s my Yum Yum?”
“You and little dogs.” She knew him and knew he was shaking his head as he talked about her Chinese crested. He refused to say her dog’s name and called her “naked nancy-pants” instead.
“You gave me my first little dog,” she reminded him. “Remember Pongo?”
