Page 49 of Pickled
My smile was involuntary as I remembered Gideon’s initial days with the cat. “He refused to name him for the first few days.”
Goldie tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. “I’ve already said too much. Gideon is a very private person, but I need you to know, Piper, that he’s a good man. A great man. And that he really, really likes you.”
Judy turned to me with tears in her eyes. She patted my hand. “I always knew you’d end up with a good man.”
“Whoa.” I held up my hands. “You two are both getting way ahead of yourselves. Gideon and I have both agreed we’re not looking for anything serious right now.”
They both gave each other a knowing look. “Fine.” Goldie shrugged. “You’re perfect for each other—both stubborn as hell.”
Judy laughed, then pointed a finger at the jumbotron. “It’s some girls from the ABCLLC.” The camera panned to several of thewomen I’d seen at the Azalea Bay Club patio the day I’d played pickleball with Lisa.
“It looks like they’re directly across from us in the box over there.” Goldie pointed straight ahead.
Sure enough, the group of stunning women were in the box across from us. They were gorgeous, ranging in age from what looked to be early forties, to Judy—although with all the work they had done, it was hard to tell. “What’s the ACD club?” Goldie fumbled the acronym. I was glad she asked because I had no idea either.
Judy stood. “I’m going to go see them. It’s the Azalea Bay Club Ladies Lunch Club. I think that’s Kensie, Izzy, and Penny over there.” She squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll be back. Enjoy watching that handsome man who keeps looking at our old seats.” She finished the glass of champagne, smoothed her outfit, and then was off.
“She is something.” Goldie laughed as soon as Judy was out of earshot.
“Something is right,” I agreed. I shifted into the seat beside Goldie. She offered me some popcorn. I took a kernel and let the saltiness dissolve in my mouth. “I didn’t mean to sound harsh earlier. Gideon and I agreed to be friends, and now I’m here with you. I’m a little shocked right now, truthfully.”
Goldie shook the bag and offered me some more. “I get it. Gideon told us that you two were just friends, but I knew he was downplaying it. I convinced him to leave you the tickets.” She held up her index finger. “But he wanted to respect your deal. I’m the one responsible for you being here, but I can guaranteehe’s spent the game wondering why you’re not in that seat down there.”
“You can’t possibly tell that from here.”
“I can.” Goldie shrugged. “And so could Judy.”
My heart thumped, and for the first time, I allowed myself to wonder, could I be with the player next door? My stomach sank just as quickly. It would mean telling him the truth, and the fact that I’d… not necessarily lied, but through omission had led him to believe I was someone else.
“Look.” Goldie pointed. With the action below paused, the cameraman panned across all the boxes. Judy was sitting next to a Penelope Cruz look-alike. “Please tell me you’ve got a limo with a driver coming. I think she just finished another glass.”
The women across from us were captured mid-laugh, their perfect veneers glinting as they clutched glasses with manicured hands, weighed down by rings. None smaller than five carats. “I’m driving.” I stood and grabbed a bottle of water from the bucket of ice. Goldie ordered another beer, and the two of us settled back into our seats. The whistle blew, and the players circled into position.
“You don’t seem like them.” Goldie held up her frosted mug of beer. “The Desperate Housewives over there.”
“I’m… not.” This was my chance. Goldie was really cool and didn’t seem like the type to judge me for what I did or who I was, but she was still Gideon’s family, and I had lied to someone close to her. The first person who needed to know who I was, was Gideon. As the puck dropped, my mind was made up. I would tell Gideon the truth.
With the decision made, my shoulders dropped a little. What was going to happen would happen; I couldn’t keep the truth hidden forever. The truth was going to set me free, even if that meant I’d be out of Gideon’s life forever.
The crowd cheered as the Tigers took a shot and missed. The big player who looked like he belonged in a football uniform, not hockey, checked Ace into the boards. Goldie winced.
“Was that a dirty hit?” I asked.
“The ref doesn’t seem to think so.” Her lips narrowed.
Gideon glided down the ice, but instead of looking forward, his eyes were glued to his brother as he skated to the visitors’ bench.
Swooping in from the blue line, a Tigers player had both hands on his stick and checked Gideon from behind. “Oh no.” Goldie’s hands went to her mouth. The crunch of the boards sounded different than the earlier hits. Whistles blew, the play stopped, and the crowd was the quietest it had been all night.
Goldie was out of her seat, her hands pressed to the glass. I joined her, trying to process what had happened on the ice surface below. The player who had hit Gideon was being escorted away by the referee. A man with a first aid bag shuffled across the ice, and Gideon, number seventeen, was face down. One of his gloves had been knocked off. The medic kicked it out of the way as he reached him. I didn’t know what was happening. The man on the ice below, incredibly strong and fit, seemingly unstoppable, indestructible even, wasn’t moving.
17
GIDEON
Puttingmyself in the crosshairs of McGuire, the Tigers’ defenseman, would never have happened if I’d had my eyes where they should’ve been—on the play. Instead, I’d been watching Ace, wondering if he was alright, when that fucker got me with his dirty hit.
He was expelled from the game and would probably get suspended from the league. It was a cross-check from behind, and if I’d been any further from the boards, I wouldn’t be sitting in my dad’s chair with C.C. purring in my lap right now. It was McGuire’s dirty hit that sent me in for my concussion exam, but it was my lack of focus that let it happen.
