Page 28 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

Carlin casts me an amused glance. “You’re a Bears fan now?”

I push out my lips. “I’ve always been a Bears fan.”

She makes a disbelieving noise. “Since when?”

“I used to go to games! With James.”

“Oh yeah. Douche nozzle.” She sniffs. “That’s true.”

My lips twitch at her description of my former boyfriend. “I like hockey. I just can’t afford to go to games now. Holy shit!” I pump my fists in the air as the Bears just scored. Not Easton. He wasn’t even on the ice for this one, but that’s okay, we’re now leading by one goal. “Woo-hoo!”

I turn and Carlin and I high-five each other.

Yes, I used to enjoy going to hockey games, but tonight watching this game on TV I feel especially invested. I want the Bears to win! And I get pissed when a dude on the Nashville team pokes his stick between Easton’s legs and takes him down. “Did you see that?” I shout.

“It’s okay, he’s getting a penalty,” Carlin says.

“But is Easton okay?” I watch him get up slowly and skate to the bench. “Jeezus, he could be hurt.”

“Hockey players are tough. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I watch anxiously for him to come back onto the ice, and I miss it when he does, as they change lines on the fly. When I realize he’s out there again, he seems fine. Not that it really matters to me. Okay, it does. He’s a customer.

I pick up my beer glass and take a big gulp.

Then Nashville scores. I wasn’t paying close enough attention to see what happened, but the TV guys are replaying it and criticizing one of the Bears for turning the puck over in front of their net.

“You can’t make mistakes like that with Caron right there,” one dude says. “You know he’s a threat.”

I watch the replay and yikes, that was a bad move.

The TV camera goes to the bench and the Bears player—Wendel Chan—drops dejectedly onto the bench. The coach is behind him, clearly yelling, his face red, his lips drawn back. He shakes his head and stomps away. Chan drops his head forward.

“I don’t think I like that coach,” I comment. “He looks mean.”

Carlin laughs. “Of course he’s mean. They’re hockey players. Like I said, they’re tough. You think he just told that guy, ‘Don’t worry, my man, mistakes are just proof that you’re trying?’ ”

I laugh too. “No, pretty sure that’s not what he was saying. I can’t read lips, but it’s not hard to make out the F-word.”

My night is made when Easton scores a goal in the second period that ends up being the winning goal, although the Bears score an empty net goal when Nashville pulls their goalie in the last minute. I can’t explain why this win makes me so happy. I give Otis a big hug. “We need to teach you to high-five,” I tell him. “I am so going to do that.”

I fetch the bag of small treats Easton packed and sit on the floor with Otis. I had him sitting on command last time he was here. “Do you remember?” I ask. “Sit.”

Carlin joins us to help.

It takes a few pushes on Otis’s butt followed by reward treats, but I get him doing that again. Then I start touching his paw. “High-five.” I keep doing it and he sort of gets it. I sigh and drop a kiss to his forehead. “You’ll get it eventually, bud. Let’s go for a walk before bed.”

Carlin comes with me. We stroll the quiet, dark street toward the park, the leaves of the trees rustling, casting dappled shadows on the sidewalk from the streetlights.

“Are you going to take the job?” she asks me.

“I’m not sure.”

“What? Are you crazy? You’re just starting your business and you need customers. Especially ones with lots of money.”

“I know, but…”

“What?”

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