Page 12 of Must Love Hockey
“You could have dinner and then leave before drinks,” he wheedles. “I miss you.”
I’m sure he misses me. But I’m also sure that he hates the idea of showing up single if his clients are bringing dates. “Sorry,” I say for at least the third time. “We’ll see each other this weekend.”
“Yeah. Okay,” he mumbles. This weekend isn’t as important to him. He doesn’t care as much about catching up onThe Crownwith me and sleeping late on Sundays the way we used to. These days it’s all about the job.
“Have a nice dinner,” I tell him, because I need to get off the phone. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Fine. Love you,” he says, but it sounds grudging.
“Love you, too,” I say before we hang up.
A few minutes later, I find myself staring at my salad, thinking about the first time Charles ever said he loved me. We’d been in tenth grade, and I’d been dazzled. I’d felt like I’d found a winning lottery ticket.
Lately, though? I can’t remember the last time that Charles and I had a great time together, just the two of us. He’s so detached, and I feel myself accepting it as the new normal.
This is just your anxiety talking, I remind myself. A girl shouldn’t get too introspective the night before a test.
So I put in another two hours’ worth of work. When I’m done, I look through my phone for James’s email address. I’d promised him I’d let him know what the doctor said. I open an email window and start typing.
Dear James,
Thank you again for everything you did for me last Saturday night. I have never needed a stranger’s help like that before. And instead of letting me be lonely and afraid at the ER, you actually made my time in that waiting room fun.
So thank you for saving the day.
I promised to tell you what I’d learned, so I hope you like science fiction. The allergist says that I have alpha-gal syndrome. That means that I became allergic to red meat after a tick bite. You’re probably rolling your eyes right now but it’s actually a real thing. I had to Google it, too.
So I’ll be fine, but I won’t be enjoying another barbecue brisket sandwich at the hockey stadium. And I guess that’s just as well because those tickets were expensive and that sandwich was twenty bucks.
You’ve already done so much, but can I ask for one more favor? Can you tell me which pharmacy is closest to where you guys practice in Brooklyn? I would like to buy Wilson a gift card. It turns out that EpiSticks cost a small fortune. I can’t buy him a new one, because you need a prescription. But I could buy the gift card and include a thank-you note.
Finally, I’d like to thank you as well. Could I buy you a non-meat pizza some night when you’re in town?
Thanks again,
Emily
After I write the email, I reread my work. And then I have the urge to hit Delete. I didn’t know that I was going to invite him out for pizza until I wrote that. But it seemed wrong to thank Wilson and not James.
Although it also seems a little wrong to ask a guy other than Charles out to dinner. But it’s just a friendly pizza, right? It doesn’t mean I have a crush on him. Or that I feel the pull to see him again.
After staring at it for a couple more minutes, I finally just hit Send. He probably won’t even reply.
I’m crossing the East River on the subway when an answer pops into my inbox.
My finger hovers over the new message. If he turns down dinner, I’ll be mortified.
And why is that, exactly? Why do I even care? It’s not like I have lots of time and extra cash to spend on cute boys who work with the greatest hockey team in the world.
I hold my breath and open the message.
FIVE
FULL BODIED
James
On an evening in early December, I’m loading hockey pads into bags when the team comes through the dressing room after a video session.
