Fresh ice, p.16
Fresh Ice, page 16
“Oh. I thought you were just too stuck up to want to eat with us or something,” Kim said, sounding relieved.
“Lord, no! That’s not it at all.”
“Well, I can buy you lunch,” Kim offered. “I have a trust fund, you know. I’m just working here because my mom is friends with Peach.”
Sarah shook her head. “Thanks for the offer but that’s okay. I’ll try to start setting aside some money so I can join you guys for lunch once in a while, okay?”
Kim nodded. “Cool.” She tapped on her phone, signaling that the conversation was over.
“Thank you for being honest with me, Kim.”
“No problem,” Kim said and started for the door.
“Kim?” Sarah waited for her to turn back around before saying, “You’re a beautiful girl. You could have any guy you want.”
“Really? You think so?”
Sarah stared at her in disbelief. “Definitely.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.”
“Wait, no one’s ever told you that before?”
“No. I mean no one besides my Dad anyway.”
“Well, you are.”
“Thanks for the boost to my confidence, Sarah, but I wouldn’t say I could have any guy. I tried to talk to Nathan at the party the other night and he wouldn’t even give me the time of day because he was too busy chasing after you.”
“Oh.” Sarah didn’t know what to say. Nathan had passed up Kim in order to talk to her? Holy moly.
Kim shrugged and left Sarah alone with her thoughts.
* * *
Dwight cursed himself for almost falling for the bogus bus ticket. Sarah hadn’t left any other trace of her existence at the house yet she’d left a huge “clue” to her whereabouts for him to easily stumble upon. What a crock! He should have known she’d pull some kind of shit like that. Crazy little bitch.
“She’ll pay for even thinking about leaving me,” he mumbled to himself. The fact that she had purchased a bogus ticket to set him off course and had her friends cover for her aggravated the living bejesus out of him.
Oh, she would pay all right. Big time.
In the living room, Troy was in his usual spot rooted in front of the TV. Dwight never saw his son move but somehow, like magic, a new item of food always appeared on his lap. Troy was like a human vacuum, suctioning potato chips by the bagful. He hovered up Twinkies like they were being discontinued or something.
“You find her?” Troy asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.
“No thanks to you. But with a little detective work of my own I found out she’s not goin’ east after all. I feel like fuckin’ Columbo over here.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She’s pulled a fast one on us and is headed north.”
“When you find her, I’ll hold her down while you beat the shit out of her,” Troy volunteered.
Dwight sneered. “Shuddup and git your stuff. We’re goin’ after her.”
“Where to, Boss?”
“Some town called Red Valley.”
“Never heard of it.”
* * *
Even though Nathan wasn’t helping out at the salon anymore, Sarah still felt his presence. She ate the leftovers of his home cooked meal for lunch and every time she walked past the bathroom she remembered when he’d consoled her. She was also wearing his sister’s sweater. Throughout the day she caught a whiff of fabric softener and smiled a secret smile.
Right after Sarah finished with her last client of the day, Kayla came through the front door of the salon. Because Sarah was always the first one to arrive at the salon in the morning and the last one to leave, the other girls had already left for the day. If they had been there, Sarah knew they would have gone ballistic when they saw little Robbie. He held tight to Kayla’s hand and didn’t look too sure about where his mom was leading him, but he was as cute as a button nonetheless.
Sarah waved but before she could make it over to them Peach spotted the pair and let out a deafening shriek of excitement. “Kayla! It’s so good to see you!” She rushed up to them and squished Kayla into a hug forcing her to let go of Robbie’s hand. He grabbed ahold of his mom’s leg while staring up at Peach with wide eyes.
After a long hug, Peach and Kayla exchanged a look that Sarah couldn’t quite read. It was like they knew something that no one else did or were in on a secret. Then the moment was forgotten and Peach fussed over Robbie.
“And you brought the little one!” Peach released Kayla and squatted down to look Robbie in the eye. “How are you, Mr. Robbie? You are a handsome little guy, aren’t you?”
Big brown eyes peeked out from Kayla’s pant leg. Robbie kept hidden behind his mom and stared at Peach like she was an alien from another planet.
“I’m a friend of your Uncle Nathan’s,” Peach explained.
Robbie perked up at the sound of his Uncle’s name. “Thun!” he yelled.
“Yes, your Uncle Nathan is very handsome, too.” Peach narrowed her eyes at the little boy and tapped her acrylic fingernail against her bottom lip. “I think I know of something you might like, Robbie,” she told him before disappearing down the hall. A few seconds later, she returned with Bean cradled in her arm. “Do you like dogs, Robbie?”
Robbie gasped and forgot about being shy. “Pup!” he yelled. Pure wonder washed over his face.
“This is Bean. He’s very friendly.”
“Puppup!” Robbie yelled but still kept his distance.
“Come say hello,” Peach coaxed. “It’s okay.”
Robbie questioningly looked up at his mom and Kayla nodded her approval.
Robbie’s little shoes pitter pattered across the floor to where Peach squatted. Slowly, he lifted a hand to Bean’s head and patted a velvety ear. Bean sniffed Robbie’s outstretched hand and then licked him.
Robbie giggled. “Good puppup!” he cooed.
Kayla left Robbie with his new friends and walked over to greet Sarah at her station. “Great, now he’s going to want a dog,” she joked under her breath so Robbie wouldn’t hear.
Sarah looked over at Robbie and couldn’t help but smile. The two-year-old was putting up with Peach’s overenthusiastic questions just so he could pet Bean. Every few seconds Bean’s tongue darted out to lick Robbie’s cheek and the little boy squealed with delight.
“What brings you to the salon?” Sarah asked.
Kayla turned her attention to Sarah while Robbie chattered on to the pup-pup. “I thought you might like a ride home.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Did Nathan send you here?”
Kayla hesitated before answering. “He just wanted to make sure you made it home safely.”
As nice as it sounded, Sarah was hesitant. “I can’t have him fighting my battles for me, Kayla.”
“True,” she shrugged. “But it sure is nice to have someone fighting with you on your side.”
That did sound like it would be nice for a change.
“It’s okay to lean on other people once in a while,” Kayla said from experience.
Sarah thought about it. Leaning on Nathan just might be kind of nice.
“Besides that,” Kayla added. “I thought it would be fun to go out for pizza.”
Chapter Sixteen
Tough Crowd
After a nap and a typical hockey meal of chicken and pasta, Nathan arrived at the NorCal Center a few hours before the game. Sebby was scheduled to have his appendix removed and TJ had already been called up from the minors to serve as backup.
When Coach Baker told Nathan he’d be starting, he wanted to pump his fists in the air, shout from the rooftops and have a Rocky moment. This was his chance!
He drank a liter of water before he left the house to keep him hydrated throughout the game. Once he got to the rink, he drank another liter. Because goalies sweated out up to seven pounds of their body weight during a game, it was crucial to stay hydrated.
In the hallway, Nathan threw a tennis ball against the wall and caught it in his glove to kick start his hand-eye coordination. Then he rode the stationary bike for ten minutes to get the blood flowing, stretched and then did some visualization in his head. He taped up his sticks and checked his equipment and thought about the shooters on the other team and their tendencies.
There was no margin for error as a goalie. When a defenseman made mistakes during a game it didn’t always cost the team a goal. When a goalie made a mistake, the red light came on over the net and 17,000 fans told him exactly how they felt about it. Nathan’s job was to be perfect and with that came a certain level of stress and expectation.
Before the stands filled with fans, Nathan went down to the ice to reflect and think about the game ahead. He stepped away from the guys in the locker room and their loud music to the quietest place in the building. The ice.
It wasn’t something that had been part of his routine before, but it seemed appropriate to mix things up and sitting quietly by the ice was a good way to focus and take everything in. Except for the hum of the Zamboni, the arena was empty and quiet. Nathan sat down and breathed in the smell of the ice.
Soon, the stands would be full of fans and the building loud with their chants. Music would blare and excitement would course through everyone’s veins.
Dale, the Zamboni driver and Ice Technician finished the last lap and pulled to a stop in front of Nathan.
“How’s the ice?” Nathan asked.
“Good. It’s a little slushy on the east side, but she’ll hold. You starting tonight?” Dale asked.
“Yup.”
“Keep sharp out there. They’ll try to screen you twice as much as any other team. Don’t let ‘em get away with it.”
“Will do.”
“You know, the Russian doesn’t come out to the ice before a game. Says it’s bad luck.”
Nathan nodded. Sebby was also the most superstitious player Nathan had ever met.
They both looked out over the ice, each with their own separate thoughts.
“It’s a purty sight,” Dale said.
The overhead lights reflected off the surface of the ice and Nathan had to agree.
No matter how many different arenas Nathan traveled to, the beauty of the ice remained unchanged. And no matter what happened out there tonight, he wouldn’t take for granted the fact that he was able to play a game for a living. Playing hockey in the UNHL was a dream come true and he was well aware of the guys lined up behind him ready to take his place in a heartbeat.
In the locker room, TJ sat down in his stall next to Nathan. Nathan shoved his headphones in his ears and cranked up the volume. He did not need TJ’s constant blabbering to distract him. The less commotion in his head the better.
When Coach Baker came in to give his pre-game pep talk Nathan put his iPod away. Coach announced the lineup and after each player’s name was called, there was a “whoop”.
“Tric, you good?” Coach asked.
Tric nodded.
“Good, ‘cause you’re starting.”
Whoop.
“CoLa? Tonight’s your night.”
Whoop.
“Then we’re going with Hollywood, Ace and Fist. And Con’s in the cage.”
The team hooped, hollered and clapped as they filed out of the locker room. Ritual handshakes, high-fives and fist bumps commenced. Cody stood in the hallway and patted everyone on their way by.
When Nathan pulled his mask down over his face it was like turning on a switch. It was business time. He didn’t carry a briefcase, he was in the business of stopping pucks even if that meant floundering around like a wounded butterfly.
Nathan glided over to the net and skated formations in front of the crease. Then he tapped his stick on the posts, left, right, left, right. It wasn’t out of superstition, just repetition to get his mind focused on the game.
He sat in his crouch and looked to the left side of the ice at the top of the hash marks and did some visualization. He pretended there was a puck there waiting for a shot and stared at that spot for a few seconds. Then he stared at the middle for a few seconds and then at the right side.
After the introductions, national anthem and pre-game hoopla, the puck was finally dropped at center ice. Two seconds later, the Warriors took possession of the puck and whacked away at it in Nathan’s end.
Instantly, he felt his adrenaline start pumping and he blocked out the sounds of the game--his teammates shouting, the blades and stick scraping across the ice, the fans screaming at the top of their lungs--and focused on the little black piece of rubber sliding across the ice. He anticipated its direction and slid to block the vulnerable side of the net. It bounced in front of him and he stuck his glove over it until the ref blew the whistle.
It was a good save and one of many Nathan knew he’d need to make in the next few hours. Once again, when play resumed, Nathan found himself facing the opposing team as they peppered shots in his direction. The Razors defensemen were no match for the other team’s skill and determination.
Nathan had played against the Warriors plenty of times in the past and had no trouble holding them off before. Unfortunately, today wasn’t one of those times. They were like maniacs, shooting the puck every chance they got and the puck kept finding its way in to Nathan’s crease.
With no help from his teammates, Nathan battled as hard as he could but time after time the puck whizzed by him and into the net until the score was 3-0.
The last goal added to Nathan’s building frustration. Out of the three saves he could have made--glove, blocker, and stick--he’d failed to keep the puck out of the net. Every time he did something he wasn’t happy with, Nathan thought about what he should’ve done instead.
Nathan glanced over at the bench and saw Coach Baker whispering something to the assistant coach. They were discussing whether or not to pull him and put TJ in the net.
Nathan couldn’t let that happen. He rolled his neck around to loosen up his shoulders. Tapping his stick on the pipes, he recited his mantra, “Focus. Calm. Cool. You’ve got this, Con.” The words usually helped him get into the right mindset but this time it wasn’t enough.
During the next play, a Warriors player got a breakaway and skated toward Nathan. He tried to anticipate where the puck would go as the player wound up the shot and fired. The puck squeaked through between his legs.
It all happened in slow motion, but by the time he squeezed his knees together to stop it, it was too late. The player who scored pumped his gloved hands in the air as his teammates crowded around him to celebrate. Nathan cursed, raised up his mask, rested it on his forehead and took a swig from his water bottle.
Coach Baker motioned to him and he knew it was over. TJ skated out to replace him and began his warm-up stretches. Being pulled from the game was humiliating and a huge blow to Nathan’s confidence.
As Nathan skated toward the tunnel, he flashed back to a similar game two years ago. No, not again. The game had been much the same and the outcome identical.
This time, instead of repeating his past mistakes, Nathan stared straight ahead, ignored the fans’ yelling their opinions of his performance and hurried into the tunnel.
The fifty pounds of equipment caused Nathan to wobble down the hall and into the locker room. Emotions welled up and he slammed his mask down and threw his stick across the room. He punched his fist into the wall and cursed in frustration.
This wasn’t the big comeback Nathan had in mind.
Chapter Seventeen
By the Light of the Frigidaire
Demons from the past prevented Sarah from finding sleep. Thirsty and exhausted from tossing and turning, she sat up and rubbed her eyes.
If anything, she should be able to sleep like a baby in Nathan’s big, comfy bed but her brain just wouldn’t turn off.
Once again, her belly was full. This time too much pizza and breadsticks were to blame. Dinner with Kayla and Robbie had been fun though, and completely worth it. Nathan had still been at the NorCal Center when Kayla brought Sarah home that evening. Apparently the Razors had lost the game and Sarah felt terrible for him.
The pizza must have made her extra thirsty because she was positively parched.
Deciding a glass of water might help, Sarah got out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Everyone must have gone to bed because the house was quiet and dark.
Sarah tiptoed down the hall and into the kitchen on bare feet. She’d never been able to do that at Dwight’s house. There was always the danger of stepping on a used needle or a cockroach or a smoldering cigarette. Not here. The oatmeal colored carpet at Nathan’s house was so thick, plush and clean that Sarah was almost afraid to walk on it for fear of soiling it. At Dwight’s there was so much dirt and cigarette ash ground into the carpet, the original color was a mystery.
Someone had left the light on over the stove and it cast a warm glow over the kitchen. It was a beautiful kitchen. It was a beautiful house. Sarah found herself imagining it was her kitchen and her house. It would be the perfect kitchen to cook big meals in for a growing family. And to bake cookies in the fancy shiny stainless steel oven. She’d even make cupcakes and wouldn’t mix up the salt and sugar like Abigail did.
Goodness, she’d let her imagination run away with her!
Those were dangerous thoughts. This wasn’t her house or her kitchen. And Nathan wasn’t hers either. She didn’t belong here or with him. This type of life was only an illusion. A short term arrangement while she figured out her next move.
Sarah was happy with what she had. It was a whole lot of nothing but she wasn’t about to get caught up in someone else’s reality. She knew who she was and where she came from. She might not know exactly where she was going but she’d get there eventually.
Sarah walked around the bar to the sink, running her hand over the countertop--was it granite or marble?--as she went.
Carefully, she took a glass out of the cabinet--was it oak or maple or some other beautiful wood?--and filled it with water from the stainless steel sink.
Sarah turned around and when she raised the glass to her lips she saw Nathan standing in the doorway. His hair was disheveled and his chest bare. He wore a pair of navy blue boxers and nothing else. He was lean yet muscular and a beautiful sight for weary eyes.
