Page 75 of Slapshot
“Oh, no, I’m not… this isn’t…”
“Book!”
I wriggle from my seat and put the magazine back. I have a shadow now. She follows me. I try to stop her, but she squeals with delight as if we’re playing some game of cat and mouse.
I locate one of the employees but she’s assisting another customer. This kid is just straight-up lost because no one is looking for her, and now I’m a little freaked-out.
I’m not paying attention to her, instead frantically checking up and down each section of books for her parents, when she pulls a book down off a shelf. She falls under the weight of the book and starts to cry. Now people are looking at me in that way they do when they’re shaming parents for not keeping their kid quiet.
“She’s not mine,” I assure them. No one cares.
I scoop her up and try to console her.
“Daddy!” she wails and points to the far side of the room.
“Your daddy’s over there?” I ask and point to the wine bar.
She just keeps pointing and crying, so I walk her over to the bar and hope I’m not committing kidnapping.
The bartender, Rainn, looks up from the bar as I enter with the wailing toddler.
“Tommy, your daughter picked up another one,” he calls.
“Does she belong here?” I ask, holding her out.
A guy walks out from the back and the kid wriggles until I put her down.
“Lily!” he says as she runs and hugs his calves. “You can’t run off, sweetheart.”
He picks her up and kisses her cheek. “Thank you,” he says, cradling her sweetly and then carrying her off toward the back. “Drink’s on me, buddy.”
I slump onto a barstool. “Holy crap.”
“You all right there, my man?” Rainn asks. “You’re pale and kind of sweaty.”
“I thought I was going to have to call the police or take her home with me like a stray puppy.”
Rainn puts a glass in front of me. “I don’t think it works like that with kids.” He wipes down bottles while I drain the non-alcoholic cider. He remembered my drink, or it was a guess. I get my answer when he asks, “Where’s your girlfriend today?”
I’m not even sure she is my girlfriend anymore. “Classes probably.”
“Uh-oh. I know that look. What happened?”
“That might work when you’re serving alcohol, but I’m not opening up over this non-alcoholic shit.”
He snorts. “Fair enough. How about an order of maple pigs?”
“Slow day?”
“I’ve got about another hour to kill before it picks up. Humor me?”
“Maple pigs and a cheeseburger. And another cider. And something sweet for dessert.” My stomach cramps as if it knows I’m about to torture it again.
“That’s forty bucks for an hour’s worth of entertainment,” he complains. “This better be one hell of a story.” He goes into the back to put in my order and I pull out my phone.
I’ve got texts from Ash and Pax wondering where I was for our usual morning workout and another from Jonah asking why I wasn’t in our English lit class. Still nothing from Kaitlyn. I need to stop expecting to hear from her and accept that isn’t the way she operates.
When Rainn returns with a basket of maple pigs, I start talking. I’m sure it’s mostly nonsense, but he listens while I ramble. I finish the maple pigs and then he sets a cheeseburger in front of me and I devour that too.
