Page 130 of Hockey Bois
They pushed on for a few hours, attempting to listen to the radio but unable to hear more than the rumble of the bass. It was nearly noon, not that they could tell from the dark sky overhead or Brady’s car clock that mysteriously read 3:42 p.m. when Nick’s watch said 12:07 p.m. They’d opted to keep driving and get a late lunch or early dinner, though Nick’s stomach rumbled every few miles. Thankfully, Brady couldn’t hear it.
They passed a large sign that advertised a roadside motel and service station. It didn’t offer much in the prospect of food, but there might be a diner around. It said ten miles, and Nick debated if he should suggest they stop to eat and hopefully let the rain clear out. Up to now, they’d experienced the hardest rain he could imagine. It had to stop eventually, right?
He hadn’t quite made a decision, about five miles gone already, when the clouds opened up and dumped a damn tidal wave onto the highway. Turns out his imagination had been well shy of how hard rain couldactuallyfall.
The road was impossible to see. The headlights did nothing. The wipers did nothing. The cars in front of them disappeared. The world was reduced to the lane line only a few feet in front of the car.
Brady downshifted and hit the brakes, going from a reasonable 50 miles an hour down to under 20. The tires hydroplaned enough that Nick braced against his seat. Brady quickly regained control and guided the car close to the shoulder where he could see the lines a little better.
“Stop?” Nick suggested.
“Yep.” Brady was white knuckling the steering wheel, so Nick reached out and flipped on the hazard lights for him.
“You see that sign for the motel?”
Brady nodded. His jaw was clenched so hard he probably couldn’t have spoken if he wanted to.
“You focus on the road. I’ll look for the exit.”
They crawled along, existing in a world of water, the car, and the five feet in front of them. Nick was thankful he wasn’t driving; his nerves were shot just from being on lookout duty. His nose was pressed against the passenger window, fogging it so badly he had to wipe it off every few seconds, and even so, he could hardly see. Eyes peeled, he looked and looked, but could see nothing but asphalt and puddles until… It wasn’t so much an exit as a gravel lot with the promise of light and a building at the far end. If they’d been going faster, they’d have missed it, but Brady had plenty of time to pull off into the bumpy lot.
Even after he’d killed the engine, he sat there rigid in the deafening rain.
“Hey,” Nick said gently, or as gently as he could while half shouting over the patter of drops on soft-top. “You okay?”
Brady jerked. Finally, he let go of the wheel and turned to face Nick. His eyes were glazed, and he blinked like he was waking up from a nightmare. “Huh?”
Nick suppressed the urge to pull him in for a hug.
Nick didn’t care about getting in trouble at work. They were both too stressed out from driving in this weather; however long it took for the downpour to ease up, they’d wait it out here.
“Let’s eat,” he said with a nod toward the building. Brady had parked right up front, though they’d still get drenched before making it inside. It wasn’t easy to tell what they were looking at even from this close, but Nick thought it was a motel with a small dining area.
“Good idea.”
*
Nick felt disgusting. His clothes clung to him unpleasantly, and even if he could wrap himself in fresh towels, he felt like he’d never be dry again.
The lone waitress had looked at them pityingly as they’d dripped their way to a table. She’d brought them hot chocolate without a word and hadn’t complained when they soaked the seat cushions.
“Thanks,” Nick said when she dropped off their food. “You know how long this storm is supposed to last?”
She sighed. “All night, I think. I came in when it was just a drizzle, but I’ll have to leave in the thick of it. You going to wait it out?” Nick nodded. “You and everyone else. I suggest you get a room while we still have some. We’re not a big place, and the rain’s got us almost booked full.”
“Great,” he muttered when she was out of earshot. “Take a motel room and leave in the morning, arrive late to work… or endure the worst driving conditions I’ve ever seen just to get a few hours of rest before I go in.”
Brady rubbed his forehead and sipped at his cocoa. “Both pretty shitty options.” He was quiet for a moment. “Hey, I promised I’d get you back in time for work tomorrow—”
“Dude, don’t even.” Nick waved off his concern. “I can handle it. Yeah, I’d prefer to be bunkered down at home, but whatever. Safety first, and driving in that storm isn’t something I want to brave just to get some good ol’ accounting done tomorrow.”
For the first time since they’d left Canada, Brady gave his trademark half-smile. “So you cool with staying here until this storm breaks?” Brady asked.
“Beats ending up in a ditch in fucking New York or wherever we are.”
“New York,” Brady confirmed. When Nick raised an eyebrow, he shrugged. “Not my first road trip north. Haven’t gone far enough to be in PA yet.”
“Ugh. Great. How many hours?”
