Page 60 of Hockey 101

Yeah, we are. Do you have to be back by a certain time?

Well, I have an RA meeting at 8:00 tonight. We’re not going to be gone more than ten hours, are we? I joke.

He shrugs. Would that be so bad? But don’t worry, I’ll have you back by then.

I pull my hand away from his to find my sunglasses, put them on, and settle back in my seat. It’s all good. I just wasn’t expecting a road trip.

Jack smiles. I figured this would be part of the date too. I’ve always liked driving. Back home, we had to go a long way to get anywhere, so the trip was part of the experience. Like if I needed new skates, we’d drive to Saskatoon. It took more than an hour, but my dad and I would get to talk. He was always busy, so that was a treat. And we had our favourite lunch place in the city.

Jack’s family sounds like they’re all close, and he speaks of them with such genuine affection. I feel a bit envious.

As I gaze out the window, I see a road sign. Wait. Are we going to Minneapolis?

Yup. Jack glances down at his phone, where he’s got a route planned out. I assume he didn’t link it to the truck’s display so I wouldn’t be able to guess.

Wow, I can’t believe you’re casually going all this way. It’s an almost two-hour drive, one way. But he’s used to long drives to get anywhere.

Do you not like Minneapolis? he asks.

Oh, no, I really like it. When my mother was pregnant with my twin brothers, she had to have complete bed rest, so she sent me to stay with my grandmother in Minneapolis for six months. She lived in a condo downtown and took me to places like the zoo or the art gallery. Stuff I’d never done before.

So, you were adopted and then your mother got pregnant? Jack asks.

Yes, apparently it’s not that uncommon for couples who deal with infertility to get pregnant after an adoption. They’re no longer stressed about it, so… I wave my hand in vague explanation and keep my words neutral. We don’t have to get into my family issues now. Or ever, really.

Naturally, Jack senses my tension. That must have been tough for you though—to have to leave home. How old were you?

I was four. Old enough that my parents could have explained exactly why I was being shipped off to Grandma’s. Instead, I spent six months worrying that I’d been abandoned, or that my mother was really sick. But maybe things were different back then.

Jack takes my hand again. It seems like you don’t want to talk about this, and that’s fine. But I’m always happy to listen.

I nod tightly in thanks. We drive along in silence, but it’s a comfortable quiet. I turn to my positive memories, like how my grandmother was the one who inspired me to become a journalist. Even though the medium may not be in its heyday, she’s the reason why I want to work for a newspaper. Besides, it’s a good start for any writing or editing career.

The landscape slowly becomes more suburban as we get closer to Minneapolis. Once we’re in the city, Jack navigates easily through the downtown traffic, parks his truck, and leads me to a large, familiar bookstore.

Have you been here before? he asks.

Magers and Quinn. Yes, I have, I exclaim. It’s an incredible shop with new and used books, author events, and a twisting layout that offers the thrill of discovery.

Jack looks a bit disappointed, so I hasten to add, I love it. It’s one of my favourite places to go. So, what’s the plan, exactly?

He brightens and pulls out his phone. I figured we could browse separately for an hour, meet up here. Then, we’ll go for lunch.

I’m shocked at how well Jack knows me already. All the things I enjoy—big city energy, reading, browsing in an excellent bookstore—these aren’t needs I advertise. But he notices.

Tired of policing my reactions, I throw my arms around his neck. I can’t believe you planned all this, Jack. This is my dream date. Thank you.

Jack’s arms tighten around me. You’re an English major with a room full of books. How could I miss?

Depends on what we’re having for lunch, though. What if it’s something I don’t like? I hedge. Jack’s still clutching me tightly. I thought I didn’t like PDA, but apparently it was PDA with guys other than Jack.

Like you won’t tell me before we step foot in any restaurant, he scoffs.

As someone who’s been called bossy since she was five years old, I tense up. Does that bother you?

He snorts. No way. Do you know how exhausting it is to have to guess what someone wants? Knowing you’ll be straight with me is very relaxing.

Really? I’m still dubious.

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