Page 73 of Her Goal
“I hear skating lessons are going well,” Badaszek says to me, marking G-nine with a blue dauber.
I’m not easily intimidated, but this is Coach Badaszek!
I reply, “I hope what we’re working on has been helpful.”
“Roboveitchek has been more focused than usual at practice. The guy has an unending well of energy, it’s just a matter of focusing it in one direction.”
I think of the mental muscle exercise and nod.
“Would you be available to accompany him to the Cobbiton Hockey Homecoming?” Badaszek asks without irony or irritation.
“The CoHoHoCo?” I joke. Before I can say more, my mother is lowering into the nearest seat.
“Of course she is available. As you know, Leah is a big fan. She and Hudson will soon be getting married, too.”
“I thought it was your son Chuck, Jack’s assistant, who was tying the knot,” Badaszek says.
“That’s next summer. These young lovebirds are planning for late fall.”
Her words funnel to me above the surrounding activity. “I’m planning Carlos and Marisol’s wedding next summer. Hudson and I aren’t?—”
Suddenly, Valentina sits down across from us. “We changed the dates.” She rubs her belly. “We had to bump your wedding sooner because we can’t have it conflict with my due date, official holidays, several half birthdays, Uncle Arnold and Aunt Trina’s vow renewal, Kimmy’s twenty-first, Halloween, the trip to Colombia to visit Abuelo’s grave, and then it’s full steam ahead into Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
Uncle Isaac nabs Badaszek’s ear and he drops out of the conversation.
To my family, I say, “Sounds like the calendar is booked. Oh well. Maybe we can get married some other time.”
“Tell that to your fiancé.”
I glance his way. Sweetly oblivious to the fact that my family is planning his life and thereby his downfall, as he and Abuela practice Spanish, he winks at me.
It distracts me as my mother, sister, and the rest of the Smith-Torres women in earshot say variations of, “We’re so excited about your wedding.” They jabber on about the plans. Someone floats a date that’s less than a month away.
To my mother, I hiss, “You can’t arrange my marriage.”
“But you always had a crush on Hudson,” Mami says.
“Hunter,” I correct.
“Are you sure about that?” Chuck asks, materializing like a genie from a lamp.
“Could someone in this family please be on my side?”
Dani’s husband balances two children on his lap. “Sorry, Leah. My hands are full.”
I cross my arms in front of my chest and lean back. “My life goal is not with the goalie, thank you very much.”
“But he’s perfect. Everything you’ve been looking for,” Cara interjects.
Where did she come from?
“Guys, arranged marriages are old-fashioned.”
“But practical,” Mami says, helping herself to a maple pear turnover from a platter that Aunt Emily just set on the table.
I take a bite without asking.
Ella, whom I didn’t realize was here, says, “We flew to Hockeyville and selected Hudson from among the finest hockey players. The cream of the crop.”
