Page 75 of Riding Pine
Lukas:I’m not.
Ben:Are you okay?
Lukas:It’s a healthy scratch. I’m just sitting out.
There’s a long pause where his dots pop up and disappear, then start over.
Ben:Don’t lie to me, please.
He doesn’t even need to be here, and I can hear the sadness in his voice.
Fuck this whole situation. Leaving my seat, I walk the hallways until I find a family restroom, duck inside and throw the lock. I still have phone service, and I dial Ben.
“Ben, I’m sorry.”
“Just tell me, Lukas. And don’t think I’m that dumb again.” I flinch at the hurt in his voice. “I might not understand hockey, but I know you don’t just get left out of a game when you’re playing well.”
“I deserve that. You’re right. I told Coach about us.” I huff a shaky breath. “I was worried Evans would say something first, and it would look worse. He overheard me talking to you and figured it out. I’m benched until Coach looks into whether I’ve even broken any rules.”
Ben sighs. “Oh, Lukas. I wish this weren’t so fucking complicated.”
“It’ll work out. I know it will, and I’ll be playing again in no time.”
There’s a knock on the door, and I flinch. “Baby, I have to go. I ducked into a family bathroom, and someone needs it. I’ll talk to you after the game?”
Thankfully, he laughs. “Get out of there, Lukas, and yes, we can talk after.”
Ending the call, I open the door to find a woman with a toddler and a diaper bag. “I’m so sorry.”
She smiles at me, recognition on her face. “You’re Lukas Pine. My kid loves you.” The toddler laughs. “Not this one, my older one. If you sign something for me, I’ll tell no one you were in here.”
“I was just making a phone call, but I’d love to sign something for you.”
She rummages in her diaper bag and finds a pen, but nothing for me to sign.
“Maybe a hunk of paper towel?” She suggests.
Shaking my head, I grin. “I have something better.” Pulling the team toque I had shoved in my pocket, I hold it up. “Would this do?”
“Oh my god, yes. I’ll be the world’s best mom.”
“I bet you already are,” I say as I sign my name on the logo patch on the toque, and when she says nothing, I glance over. “Do you need help?”
“No, I…thank you for saying that.”
“You’re welcome. I lost my mom too soon, and I told her all the time that she was the best. She was. Sometimes I was a shithead.” We both laugh as she wipes at her eyes. “But I always knew she was a good mom, even when she gave me hell, you know. So…yeah, you’re a great mom.”
She takes the toque from me and places it in the diaper bag with a soft ‘thank you’ while dropping the change table. “If you don’t need my help, I should get back to the game.”
“Go ahead, and Lukas?”
I pause with a hand on the door. “Your mom did a great job.” With a thank you of my own, I step out and rush back to my seat.
I hope the woman is right. Because right now I feel like I’m failing at everything.
We split our road games this trip 1-1-1, so it wasn’t terrible.
What was terrible, though, was sitting out the last two. It was great that they played well without me, but there’s always that little voice wondering if they’ll cut my ice time. Captain or not, you play the hot lines and players and do what you can for success. A letter on your chest or even tenure on a team does not give you a free pass.
