Page 62 of Hockey 101

The menu lists a lot of dishes I don’t recognize. I’ve never had Korean food, I confess.

That’s fine. I can order for both of us, Jack says.

Do they have a lot of Korean food in Rosetown, Saskatchewan? I ask.

He smiles. Nope. But I played my junior hockey in a suburb of Vancouver, where there was a lot of Korean food. As well as Chinese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese. Everything.

Ugh. The irony that the person who looks Asian knows less about Asian food than the white person is not lost on me. But isn’t this the adventurous, big city life I want? Our waitress comes by, and Jack orders several dishes with complete confidence.

When the food arrives, it’s incredible. Noodles so spicy that my mouth is on fire. Delicious KFC, aka Korean fried chicken. And so many tiny side dishes, some of which are delicious, and others that may be more of an acquired taste.

As I watch Jack deftly wielding long metal chopsticks, I get a vision of my dating future. Adventures that push me out of my comfort zone. Being scared, but taking the leap anyway.

Thanks again, Jack. This is really fun, I conclude.

His eyebrows rise. And zero combat. Will this date make your top ten list?

Is he teasing me because I like to make lists? I don’t even care.

Best. Date. Ever, I say honestly.

16

HOT IN HERE

JACK

Hey, what are you doing tonight? Do you want to come over? We could order pizza.

ANDY’S MESSAGE COMES on the one night of the week that we all eat together. There’s a schedule, and tonight I’m cooking with Ethan. Mats and Swanny are the best cooks, and Bergy is useless. Ethan and I are somewhere in the middle.

I reply: I’d rather eat with you, but tonight is our house dinner and I’m cooking.

I’m telling you, sheet pan cooking is the way to go, Ethan says as I put my phone down.

Agree. It’s the easy way to make an entire dinner. We found a recipe for Mediterranean chicken and roasted vegetables, and it already smells delicious. I’m working on a salad and Ethan’s making couscous.

Proteins keep getting more expensive, though, I say.

Yeah. Do you think we should be going to Duluth every week to grocery shop? It’s okay to do a monthly Costco run for toilet paper and shit like that, but food too?

I’m enjoying hanging out with Ethan now. He’s been a lot easier to live with since Lloyd finally moved out. Andy was right—once we had a house meeting, it turned out that Lloyd was getting on everyone’s nerves.

We used to do that back home. Like take a cooler and stock up on a bunch of stuff. But we had a big freezer. When you live in a small town, you have to plan ahead. Then my phone vibrates again and I pull it out of my pocket.

No problem. It was just a last-minute idea.

She’s added a smiley emoji at the end so I know she’s not upset or anything. Besides, Andy’s not like that—if she were upset, I’d know. Still, I wish I could have gone over. It’s been a couple of weeks since we started dating, and we’ve managed to meet up every day, even if it’s just for coffee. Tomorrow I’m leaving on a road trip, so I won’t see her for twenty-four hours.

Why do you keep sighing? Ethan asks.

Am I? Sorry. I guess it’s because Andy suggested coming over to her place for dinner, and I can’t go, I complain.

He snorts. Was it a booty call?

The timer dings. I put on oven mitts and carefully take the sheet pans out of the oven.

I don’t think so. Dinner means dinner to Andy.

---