Page 70 of Her Goal
“Well, when I moved in, Karter did add drops of hot sauce to the face moisturizer I left in the bathroom.”
“Why would someone do something like that?”
I shrug, having long given up on trying to figure out the oddball residents in my apartment. “He said it reminded him of whipped cream.”
“Why would someone add hot sauce to whipped cream?”
“So many questions.”
“Namely, why do you live in that dump?” Hudson asks.
“Because I’ve always lived with my family.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
I hold up my hand. “The press room is closed for questioning.”
Sadness drifts across Hudson’s features like clouds over the rising sun.
“I could move home,” I say in a small voice.
“Or you could marry me. Live at my house.”
I gasp as I gain sudden clarity. “That’s why they’re trying to arrange our marriage?”
“I can’t argue with them.”
“Why are you so concerned about my safety?” I ask.
“Because I always have been.”
I see the ferocious goalie behind the glass, an untamed, unfiltered flash in Hudson’s eyes. Something between us abruptly shifts or perhaps it’s been a slow slide of change all night.
If I weren’t crossed up from what I thought I knew about the Roboveitchek brothers, I’d melt into a delirious puddle of laughter, right here on the ground.
I’m vaguely aware of a car pulling into the parking lot and two doors opening. But Hudson’s gaze is fixed on me, unrelenting.
The rising sun glints in my eyes as Cara appears along with Pierre.
Confusion written on her features, she asks, “Good morning?”
“What do we have here?” her husband asks.
“I’d better go.”
Hudson thumbs over his shoulder. “Yeah, I should head back inside.”
We start to walk our separate ways when footfalls approach.
“Why did you stop skating?” Hudson asks as if afraid this is his last chance to get answers.
There are two possible responses, neither of which I want to give. Instead, I say, “The dog farted.”
“Huh?”
“That’s me saying this conversation is over.”
Recalling Tinker at the anniversary party, his laughter follows me into my early morning dreams while I sleep in one of the bunks in my parents’ basement before going to my shift at the Fish Bowl, and into the next day when I hear it echoing in the bingo hall.
