Page 110 of The Home Grown
I grit my teeth, flopping down on the sofa and reaching for a cushion—hugging it to my chest.
“No, but that’s something else I need to figure out,” I say. “I’m not sure what Coach was thinking, but I don’t think we’re a good match.”
Johnny sits on the arm of the adjacent chair, leaning forward to look at me. “I actually beg to differ. But since that’s not whatyou’re here to talk about and we have an early practice—let’s not keep either of us from our beds. Is this about the forum?”
I shake my head.
“This is really difficult for me,” I begin. “But I need you to know I didn’t think things through, as per usual, I guess, and now I’m in a bit of a mess.”
“Ah. So this is about your fake wife,” he says.
Ah, shit.
I swallow down a lump, braving a glance in his direction.
“Danny told you?” I ask, sheepishly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“No, my sister did. She told me about the stuff with Coach and whatever, and I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” Johnny says.
“Vicky,” I scoff. “Of course.”
“Yeah, I think she’s expecting you to tell Coach the truth, though,” he says.
I groan into my hands. And then I fill Johnny in. I tell him everything—almost everything.
From the trip Ellie made when she was eighteen to when she showed up earlier today, cutting out the sex bit, because I don’t want Johnny thinking of me how I already think of myself.
“Well, shit,” Johnny says once I come to a close. “So, you really are married? Does your sister know?”
“Well, we think so. I need to look for some paperwork or something. But no, Kelly doesn’t know and you’re not going to tell her,” I say.
Johnny raises his eyebrows. “That’s rich coming from you.”
I sigh, resigned to the fact that I’m going to have to tell her myself sooner rather than later.
“I need to tell her. I’ll call her tomorrow,” I say.
Johnny nods. “So, what happens now?”
“I tell the guys and then Ellie comes along to a couple of Team GB functions. Simple.”
“Yeah, but people will start asking questions if she’s only socialising at those events. What about our stuff? We’ve got that testimonial night coming up, not to mention the end of season celebration. All that’s happening before the Team GB stuff kicks off properly—aside from the welcome event. The GM will notice if there’s no consistency and people talk. You can’t have this double life in the hockey world. You know that’s not how it works.”
And of course he’s right. My shit show advances from a onetime performance to a national tour. And what’s worse? I’m going to have to change the goalposts for Ellie, and I’m not sure how she’s going to take it.
We agreed earlier that she’d support the Team GB stuff—whatever I needed on that part. But my league team? I’m not sure if that’s too ‘relationshippy’ and I’m not sure what she wants—how much she wants.
I exhale, letting out a groan as I do.
“This is it,” I tell Johnny. “This is how I’m going to die. Death from lack of forward thinking… the stress of it all.”
“Well, where does Ellie live?” Johnny asks. “Is she local?”
“She has a place back home, but this whole drama kicked off with her sister and their beauty salon and?—”
“Oh, don’t tell Vicky she’s a beautician,” Johnny laughs. “She’ll never leave her alone.”
“Hairdresser,” I say.
