Page 100 of Must Love Dogs… and Hockey

Cookie does the same.

“You had a good game tonight,” I say. “Three assists. That’s fantastic.”

“Thanks.” He lifts his beer in a toast.

“I have to say, it’s a different angle watching from above. You can really focus on the little things. Like when Murph came underneath you in the defensive zone when you were running around trying to get the puck out.”

He nods.

I talk about some of the other little things I noticed that we don’t have time to focus on when we’re on the ice.

“Glad you’re feeling better about this.”

“I’m not.” I grimace. “Just trying to make the best of it.”

“I guess that’s good.”

“What else can I do?” I sigh. “Actually…I’ve been thinking about what to do.”

“About…?” He pauses. “Lilly? Otis? Our asshole coach?”

“Fuck.” I duck my head. “I can’t do anything about Otis. And I think there’s no hope of fixing things with Lilly. But maybe I can do something about Coach.” I have some other shit to deal with, but I don’t mention that to him.

I’ve been thinking a lot about what Lilly said to me. About being afraid. She was right, of course. But what sticks in my head, playing over and over, is when she said being brave isn’t the same as not being afraid. It’s just deciding something else is more important.

My fear isn’t the most important thing. I have to stop being selfish and protecting myself.

Cookie nods slowly. “Not so sure about Lilly, but okay. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You know…” He takes a swig of his beer then pins me with a stare. “You don’t have to do it yourself.”

I squint at him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying there’s a whole team who’s pissed and frustrated.”

I purse my lips. “Okay. Yeah.” Thoughts form in my head and energy fizzes through my veins. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter 21

Lilly

“What are you doing here?” I stare at my dad after letting him into my apartment, and then I move in to throw my arms around him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He hugs me back. “Missed you too, chickpea. How are you?”

“I’m…” I choke up. “I’m okay.”

He draws away and studies my face. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s a long story. Come in. Let me take your jacket.”

He takes it off and I hang it in the closet, and he sits on the sofa.

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thanks. Come, sit.” He pats the sofa cushion.

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