Page 22 of Puck the Halls
Nathan
It’s not justone nun.
It’s five. And they’re in a ten passenger van with three back rows of bench seats. They’re on their way back from a conference in… I don’t remember now.
I’m so fucking tired.
The wonderful ladies not only give me a bottle of water and a bag of snack mix, they also put me in the very back seat all by myself.
Crew, on the other hand, is in the middle of the very first bench seat, surrounded by, believe it or not, hockey nut nuns.
But I can’t even be annoyed by his constant chatter.
For one thing, they’re keeping him entertained and he’s not chattering atme. I am blessedly fully alone in this backseat where it is warm, relatively quiet, and dark.
I’m coming down off of the adrenaline rush from our accident and my horrible flashback to my childhood trauma, and desperately need a minute without having to be polite to anyone, especially my wife’s other husband.
He assured me that he’d blocked Danielle on his social media accounts so she won’t see any of this—him posting for a ride, people posting that they’d stopped but we were already gone, people who arenotthe nuns claiming that they’d picked us up. It’s a shit show.
A shit show I’m not dealing with.
Crew’s in charge now.
Yes, I said that. Out loud with witnesses even. And no, I didn’t bump my head.
I’m just so tired.
Thankfully, Crew is able to fill the sisters in on why we are on the road from Decatur and that we’re trying to get to Des Moines. I’m hoping by the time we get there, we’ll be able to charter a flight to Aspen. Hell, I’m hoping by the time we get there, or close, my damned assistant will be awake and answer his damned phone.
I have to give Crew credit though. Despite it being the middle of the night, he’s still charming as fuck. He also does not blame me for the detour to see our kids when telling the story to the nuns. In fact, the nuns give us a chorus of “awww” and he definitely makes up a good story about how we ended up in the ditch that leaves out any semblance of the truth.
I am way too tired to worry about the consequences of Crew lying directly to five nuns about how our wife distracted me to the point of driving off the road.
They have now gushed over him as a player, the Racketeers as a team, the season in general, how much they miss watching Blake Wilder play since his retirement, and how much they love following our little family.
I have my head tipped back against the seat and my eyes shut and I’m drifting in a dozing state, but it occurs to me that the nuns being completely okay with our polycule is interesting.
“You’re behind on your number of Hat Tricks from where you were last year this time,” Agatha tells him.
Crew gasps audibly and I smirk even if I keep my eyes shut. She’s not wrong. And she’s not the first one to point it out to him. I do love when Crew gets a little shit about his stats.
Ever since I taught Danielle about hockey stats and how to keep track of Crew’s numbers, she makes a point of praising him effusively for his good ones. Of course, that always ends up well for her because Crewloveswhen Danielle proves she’s his biggest fan and pays her back for her attention and loyalty with cookies and orgasms. Yes, often times together.
As if he needs that. He has the sports media, the entire city of Chicago, hell, the whole state of Illinois, thinking he’s the best thing since Boba tea.
Which is another trend that I don’t agree with, by the way. The last thing I want is to suck on a straw and end up with gelatinous balls in my mouth. I almost vomited the first time I tried it. It hasn’t gotten much better for me since then.
I don’t like balls in my mouth, what can I say?
“My shots on goal and assists are up this year though,” Crew defends himself.
Agatha hums. “Yes. But I think you’re slower. I haven’t timed you, but I’ll bet you’re slower in sprints, aren’t you?”
My smile grows.
“Agatha, you’re killing me,” Crew groans.
“That’s not a no,” Agatha says. “I think it’s because you’re too content. Too happy. You’ve gotten rid of that restless edge that always made you skate fast and hit hard.”
