Page 134 of For the Boys
While Berkley perused the extensive liquor selection, Lexie sat chatting with Sandra for several minutes about what she did as a headhunter. Berkley had just settled on a drink when Lexie appeared next to her.
“That was…” Lexie glanced over her shoulder at the Jean family, searching for the words. “Surprisingly not awkward.”
“I know, right? I didn’t expect them to be so openly accepting of me,” Berkley said, pouring a healthy serving of Jack Daniels into a glass. She splashed in some Coke and drained it in two gulps, wiping her face with the back of her hand before refilling it with a more socially acceptable Jack-to-Coke ratio.
“His brother sure is pretty,” Lexie whispered, throwing an appreciative glance over her shoulder. Nate was staring at them over the rim of his glass. He gave them a little wave and turned to speak to his father.
“He’s going to be a surgeon,” Berkley told her, wiggling her eyebrows. “As far as I know, he’s single.”
“I’m sure he’s a great guy,” Lexie said, rolling her eyes. Of all Berkley’s friends, Lexie had the lowest tolerance for bullshit. It was safe to say they were both thinking the same thing: Nate’s full lips and deep blue eyes had punched his ticket into a lot of beds. Lexie wasn’t about to be added to the list. Plus, there was this mystery man she had yet to tell Berkley about.
The noise from the crowd outside the suite rose as the Warriors skated onto the ice. The buzzer sounded, and the teams lined up, ready for pregame line announcements and the national anthem.
Berkley stood in the front row of bleacher-style seats outside the suite, Lexie on one side, Mackenzie on the other, as a local country singer belted out the words to “The Star-Spangled Banner.”
When the song was finished, they sat. Crowd noise rose to a near-deafening pitch as the Warriors and their opponents, the Buffalo Regents, gathered at center ice. The puck was dropped, and off they went.
When Berkley was nervous, she did one of three things: bounced her leg up and down, sawed at her bottom lip with her teeth, or incessantly cracked her knuckles. Tonight, it was the leg bouncing. Lexie, who after seven years of friendship was used to the gesture, gave Berkley’s knee a reassuring squeeze.
The pace was fast, and the Regents put up two goals quickly, making the score 2–0 after twenty minutes. Near the end of the first period, the crowd had taken to loudly booing the Warriors, and Berkley heaved a sigh of relief when they finally went down the tunnel for intermission.
Midway through the middle frame, the Warriors went on the power play. Berkley had moved on to her second nervous habit and was all but gnawing a hole through her lip. The power play unit included Mitch and Parker at the points, Brent near the faceoff circle to the left of the Regents’ Swedish goaltender, Johan Cederstrom, Chase to the right, and Cole parked right in front of the net. About forty-five seconds into the man advantage, Mitch and Parker were playing keep-away with a Regents player. They finally passed it down to Cole, who kicked it out to Brent. Brent made a beautiful cross-ice pass to Chase, who slapped the puck home, beating Cederstrom on his glove side.
But that single goal wasn’t enough. As the final seconds ticked off the clock in the third period, the 2–1 score held up for the Regents, affording them a 1–0 series lead.
“It’s okay,” Ron said. “Still lots of hockey left to play. They’ll get them next time.”
Berkley remained seated as the Jeans and Lexie made their way inside the suite for more refreshments.
Sometime later, Lexie came out and tapped her on the shoulder. “Your boy is here.”
Berkley got up and walked inside to find Brent standing by the door. She loved and hated when he was like this: freshly showered, hair still wet and slicked back with the exception of that one stubborn piece that always curled onto his forehead. He was hunched over, hugging his mother, his perfectly tailored suit jacket pulled tight across the broad muscles of his back. When he straightened, Berkley saw that the top buttons of his dress shirt were undone, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He turned his gaze to her, forlorn eyes begging her to make things better. She ran into his arms, where he squeezed her tight and buried his face in her hair.
“Well that sucked,” he said quietly in her ear.
“I’m sorry, babe.” She slid her arms inside his suit jacket and rubbed his back through his shirt. “But I met your family.”
“And how was that?”
“Great, actually. So that’s one thing you don’t have to worry about.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you were great,” his mom said.
“You’ll get ’em next time, champ,” his dad told him, slugging him on the shoulder.
Mackenzie pecked him on the cheek. “Love you, B.”
Brent smiled at that. “Love you too, kiddo.”
Nate didn’t approach but merely gave Brent a look and shrugged his shoulders. Brent seemed to understand, because he returned the gesture.
“So I see you’ve all met Berkley and Lexie.”
“They’re lovely,” Sandra told him. “I can’t believe we’re just now meeting Berkley. Such a travesty,” she added, throwing her hands up in the air. “So much wasted time!”
Berkley laughed. “He hasn’t met my family yet either, if it makes you feel better.”
“Not really,” Sandra said, and everyone laughed. “You must make that happen soon so we can all get together over the summer! You can come out to the cabin for a week or two! There’s plenty of room for everyone. How many of you are there?”
