Page 86 of Her Goal
Heidi helps herself to a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. “But is it a second chance if the love interests knew each other but didn’t necessarily like each other originally?”
They get the full Leah Smith glare because their suggestions are none too subtle.
Then Ella asks, “Leah, the first date was a dud, did you go on the second two or did you realize?—?”
Thankful for a slight change of subject, I tell them about how John Z from Boston and I went to the zoo.
“I used to love visiting there when I was a kid,” Heidi says and comments on how we should all visit soon.
“I think Meg has a family pass. She’ll meet us,” Delaney says.
That settled, they turn back to me. Even though they include me most of the time, without my own hockey guy, I sometimes feel like an outsider.
Margo asks, “So John Z.”
“Wait. Are you calling him John Z as in zebra or—?” Gracie looks slightly puzzled.
Heidi asks, “Did you see the zebras?”
This is as bad as trying to have a conversation with my family, which makes me extra glad that none of my dates worked out because it would mean trying to do something long-distance … or moving.
Omaha is far enough.
I say, “John Zimmer. He plays for Boston.”
“But you keep calling him John Z.”
“That’s what he told me to call him.”
“Is he stuck in the third grade when there were three Johns so they had to add the surname initial? We had three Jennifers,” Whit says.
I sigh because that wasn’t the worst of it.
Ella interjects and tells them about how Crew from the Swashbucklers repeatedly called me bro.
“Okay, so back to the date with John Z,” Whit says as if she anticipates a story inbound.
“We went to the zoo and he was on his phone the whole time.”
“Even with the new otter exhibit?” Jess asks, looking up from her device as she checks out the zoo’s offerings.
“Didn’t even take a peek at them.” Lips pressed together, I shake my head.
Delaney chops her hand through the air. “Major red flag.”
“That’s two out of three. What about Houston?”
I drop my head into my hands. “He was the worst, which just proves that I’m undatable.”
The girls circle around me, rub my arm and back, and tell me that it’s not true. I’m not looking for kind words or pity. More like I can’t hold back the truth any longer.
“Darlin’, what did he do?” Gracie asks.
“You’d better believe we will take him downtown during his next game,” Jess says, her usual sweet tone laced with menace.
“We went out to eat after the game. He pretended it was his birthday because the restaurant offered free dessert. Afterward, I was all enthusiastic like, ‘You should’ve told me ahead of time.’ To which he said, ‘Oh, it’s not my birthday. I just wanted the free cake and ice cream.’”
“Meanwhile, he makes an NHL player’s salary,” Whit says with disgust.
