Page 162 of Home Game

After the game, I watched the player interviews, desperate to hear his voice, but he disappeared off the ice first and never appeared on camera again that night.

I was at my desk,at work, when Frank strode in and dumped several catalogs beside my laptop.

“What is this?” I peered up at him.

“Brochures for local colleges and UBC. You need an undergraduate degree to get your CPA.”

I stared dumbfounded at the fat catalogs. I spent enough time asking Frank about post-secondary education, so he knew I wanted to attend, but he also knew I wasn’t planning on applying for a few years. Not until I had enough money saved up.

“Thanks,” I blinked up at him. He seemed to be in a mood.

“I want your applications for all of these schools completed by the end of the week. I’ll cover the application fees.”

“Frank,” I spun around as he walked out of the room. “I can’t afford school right now.”

“If you don’t apply, I will fire you.”

“Are you serious?” I stared at him dumbfounded. Frank never joked about shit.

“Apply. And bill me for the time you spend applying.”

I didn’t bill Frank, but I spent every evening working on my applications. Frank, Krista, and Mica provided letters of references for me. My greatest fear was not getting in and disappointing Frank. My second greatest fear was being accepted and then having to defer due to lack of finances.

Two monthspassed.Tonight the playoffs started, and I was excited to watch the Vancouver Wolves in their first game. Krista phoned and asked if she could come over. She said she had something to drop off.

When I opened the door, she looked at me and immediately said, “Don’t be pissed.”

“Why would I be pissed?”

A soft meow sounded from below.

She lifted a white cardboard box with a handle. “Can we come in?”

It was a kitten. The most gorgeous, fluffy, long-haired, blue-eyed kitten. I dropped to my knees and lifted it out of the box.

The kitten meowed pitifully and my heart melted in a big puddle on the floor. “Who is this?”

Krista sighed. “This is your new cat, if you want it.”

“Krista!” I squealed. “I’ve always wanted a cat. My entire life!”

“Well, she’s yours. She is nine weeks old, she’s had all her shots, and she’s eating solid food.”

I reached over and hugged Krista. “Thank you. Oh, my gosh. Thank you.”

She winced. “This is the part where you promised you don’t get pissed.”

I watched as the kitten pounced on my sock. “Why would I be pissed?”

“The cat’s name is Ikea. You are free to change it, but that is the cat’s name.”

I froze and lifted my gaze to her. “This cat is from Ryan?”

“Someone he knew had a cat who had kittens. And this kitten was heading to the pound. So, he threatened to come over here and drop off the cat himself, unless I agreed to do it.”

“Okay.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re not mad?”

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