Page 57 of Icebreaker
What I liked best about being around Daddy B was that he was a guy who liked to handle things. He was most happy when he was figuring something out, organizing, or herding cats. Daddy B thrived on it, and he was really good at it. With my hand in his, I half-jogged and half-walked to my very first outing in college as his boyfriend.
“You can’t be serious. Like how? There’s no way.”
“What’s your criteria for figuring out the best option?”
“First, you have to think about the songs. Are they catchy? Are they good? Do you want to sing them in the shower? If the songs aren’t good, I don’t care what the story is about.” His logic was sound. It was the shock of the discussion that threw me off-kilter.
“But if it’s not a musical?”
“Then the score better be a banger.”
If someone had told me twenty-four hours ago that I would be sitting in a diner, holding hands with Daddy B, surrounded by hockey players, and debating the merits of what makes a good Disney movie, I would’ve thought you’d lost your mind. But here I was doing exactly that.Mind-boggling.
When Rafe Lindstrom, the team captain, sat in the chair next to me, I noticed his tattoo on his forearm. It was an old-fashioned brass bed with sparkles around one of the front bedposts. Sitting on the bed was a black cat and a broom, and a suit of armor stood next to it. An Angela Lansbury classic. When I complimented his ink, it launched into a discussion of why it was the best movie ever made, according to Rafe. He had a list ready to go.
“Look, I’m not saying that it’s not a great film. What I am saying is that some are significantly better.”
“I’m going to need an example.”
“Have you consideredThe Three Lives of Thomasina? Not the most well-known, but it’s still pretty fantastic.”
“You talked mostly about musicals, and that’s not a musical. But if we’re including non-musicals, thenRatatouilleis at the top.” I sat back in my chair, arms folded with a smug look. I had this one.
“I’ll see yourRatatouilleand raise youThe Goofy Movie.”
Oh, I hadn’t considered that one at all. He might have gotten me on that one. I needed to rethink my plan of attack.
“Hey, baby boy, go easy on Rafe. He’s had a rough week too.” Daddy B winked at me when he said it, but I spiraled.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Am I making it worse? I thought we were just being, you know, friendly?” I glanced worriedly at Rafe in the chair next to me, who, to my surprise, glared at Daddy B.
“I’m not trying to steal your boy, Tater. I’m enjoying a conversation about my favorite thing.” He turned to me and said, “You’re making it better. Ignore him.”
“ Uh,” Wojak interjected. “Your favorite thing is Disney movies? That would make sense if you were five.”
“Who the fuck asked you?” Matty interrupted. “And he’s your goddamn captain so show some goddamn respect.” I hadn’t realized Matty had been listening to the conversation from across the table. He looked pissed off, but when he glanced at Rafe, that switched into concern.
“Wojak, get the fuck out. We’re tired of your shit,” Matty snarled.
“I’m just saying what everyone here is thinking,” Wojack whined.
A chorus offuck offsandyou can leavefloated down the table while Rafe looked even more surprised than me. It was sweet how the team came to their captain’s defense. Wojak glanced around, looking for an ally, and found none. Rather than continue the fight, he shoved his way away from the table and stormed out. No one followed him.
“Someone should tell Wojak that being a non-starter on a losing hockey team doesn’t come with as much clout as he thinks it does,” Rafe said dryly to his retreating back.
“Hey, Cooper, now that the little pisser is gone, I wanted to ask if it was all right if my brother sits with you in the family section for our last game?” Matty asked.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“On the last game of the season? Family night?” I glanced bewilderedly at Daddy B and then returned my attention to Matty.
“Yeah, I don’t know anything about that.”
“So, on the last game of the season, family and significant others are invited to the game, and then for graduating seniors, there’s a little celebration for them on the ice.”
I realized Daddy B had to know about the tradition but hadn’t invited me. Oh. This was awkward. Matty’s face turned stormy as he pointedly stared at Daddy B. The last thing I wanted this evening was another argument or confrontation with anyone. I had reached my limit of those.
“You can stop giving me dirty looks.” Daddy B mean-mugged Matty before turning his attention back to me. “I was going to ask if you wanted to go this evening, but we got sidetracked. The families all sit together, so you’d be sitting with my parents.”
