Page 87 of Two for Holding
It was still only four o’clock.
On a game day, Tom could have followed his routine.A nap, followed by a carb-heavy meal, a ride to the stadium, getting dressed, warming up with the buzz of the locker room around him.And then the comforting cold of the ice, the clarity of winning or losing, the roar of the crowd, and the shrill whistles signaling stops and starts of the game.
On the other hand, if it were a game day, he’d have to see Jax, and he didn’t know how he’d handle the first confrontation with his…ex?Tom’s stomach rebelled against the idea of defining Jax as his first relationship now that it had ended.He’d been changed enough by Jax without conceding that as well, especially when he hadn’t even been able to enjoy it before it was over.Every part of his life touched Jax’s now, and all the good parts of hockey had been changed irrevocably by his presence.The buzz of the locker room, the warm, comfortable atmosphere?Before Jax joined the team, it hadn’t been half as comfortable.And it had to be said, with Jax on the Sea Lions roster, they’d been winning a lot more, which made everything way more fun.
Tom’s phone vibrated in his lap.He checked it immediately, like a dog hoping for a treat long past snack time.
Instagram had recommended accounts for him to follow.The notification showed the orange logo of the Philadelphia Magpies.Tom was sorely tempted to crush his phone under his heel.But then, hadn’t he’d also taken what he had with Jax and thrown it away just as the Magpies had?
Another notification followed.For a minute, Tom thought it might be his mom.He’d never answered her text after the Arizona game, too caught up in Jax, and the thought of doing it now filled his brain with lead, making him unable to complete the task.Maybe she was worried and wanted to check in.
But when he opened his messages, he found something far better.
Phil: Want to come over for dinner?
Tom jumped up, grabbed his keys and wallet, and made it to his car in less than five minutes.He turned on the radio, focused on the street, and, for the first time all day, managed to turn his brain off.
Phil still opened the door with crutches jammed under his arms, but leaned on them less than he had after the ill-fated East Coast road trip.
“You’re looking better,” Tom said.
Phil studied Tom.“Wish I could say the same for you.”
Tom glanced down at himself.He wore his favorite sweatpants, soft and comfortable, but admittedly worn at the knees.He had another old Sea Lions shirt on, and he hadn’t shaved.There didn’t seem to be much point.Who would he want to look good for?He didn’t need to make an effort for Phil, having seen each other in worse states.Speaking of, though, he hadn’t heard about Phil’s progress with the knee in weeks, his own fault for getting lost in Jax.“So what’s the prognosis?Surgery?”
Phil shook his head.“I got a second opinion.She thinks I can rehab it without operating.Better recovery time.”
“That would be great.”
“Yeah.Only chance I’ve got of making it onto the ice in time for playoffs.”
Playoffs again.“Phil…”
“Chances are this is my last season either way.I want to actually play in it.”
“There’s more to life than hockey.”Even as the words left his mouth, Tom winced at the lie.There wasn’t more to his life.
Phil allowed him to keep some semblance of dignity by not answering.“You want chicken or steak for dinner?”
The right answer was chicken.He preferred the taste of red meat, but with the amount of protein a hockey player needed, chicken and fish were safer bets.
Tom was so fucking tired of safe bets.
“Steak.”
“Good man.”
Phil led him out back and fired up the grill.
“It’s December,” Tom pointed out.
“It’s always barbecue weather in Cali.”
Outside, the day was gray and drizzly.But Phil had few passions in life, all of which were extremely boring, so Tom let him have it.Plus, a roofed part of the patio protected the grill.Tom could take the chill, and he’d rather this than Phil’s other favorite hobby.Fishing in the bay would be a million times more annoying in the rain.
“Is Morris joining us?”
Phil shook his head, scowling.“He’s apartment hunting with his nephew.”
