Page 50 of Hockey Bois
Not that Chad from Sales was even worth discussion. He was an ant, and Grandma Pauline would say so without a second thought.“And really, Nick, you shouldn’t let him get under your skin. He’s beneath notice, and you should treat him as such.”
If only.
It wasn’t that they didn’t think their grandma could handle the gritty details of their lives, nor was it some worry that she didn’twantto know about them. It was more that their time together was limited to a few days a year, and they were happier to gloss over the rough edges and focus on the fun things they wanted to share.
It made the dinner fly by, and they reluctantly got up to leave the table.
It was Nick’s job to keep Grandma Pauline company while she waited for her Uber, mostly because he’d been late and missed the pre-dinner talk. There was a line of hugs, lots of goodbyes, and assurances that she’d be seeing them plenty over her stay in town. She used to stay on the farm with Nick’s family back in the day, but she insisted she was too old to deal with “that nonsense.” Instead, she preferred to stay at a nice hotel, have people come to her, and go to shows in the city.
He couldn’t blame her. He liked being on the farm in small doses, but his 24-hour visits a few times a year were enough; more than that and he’d go stir crazy. Personally, he preferred DC, and he’d made his case to his grandma for years now.
“I still haven’t seen everything I want to see in Baltimore. Thank you though, Nick. I’ll think about it for next time.”
She would deny it, but Nick was fairly certain her disenchantment with DC was completely related to her being in the arena to see the Caps get kicked out of the playoffs no less than four times. His dad had inherited his love of hockey from his mom, and she’d grown bitter with the team’s lack of success long ago.
Sometimes the bad outweighed the good, he supposed.Maybe the Cup coming to DC was too little, too late.
They stood together in the cramped restaurant entryway, barely barricaded from the cold. Nick checked his phone again for the Uber’s arrival time. Five minutes, which would be enough to go back inside, except he knew his grandma didn’t like to rush and wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting.
“You sure you don’t want me to ride with you to the hotel?”
“That’s sweet of you, hon, but I’ll manage. It’s late, and I’m sure you plan on going for a run in the morning.” She pulled her faux-fur shawl up higher and straightened as if to embrace the chill. She took a deep breath and laughed when it came out as foggy steam. “I never much cared for snow, but I do think I miss the cold.”
“You’re crazy. The cold needs to stop and immediately become chilly if not lukewarm.”
“Says the hockey player. Don’t you voluntarily go play on ice several times a week?”
“It’s not cold when you’re moving around,” he grumbled with the fake, exaggerated pout that had earned him many cookies and treats as a kid.
Now it only got him a pinch on the cheek.
“Feel free to move around. Don’t stand still on my account. You could do jumping jacks or run in place easily enough.”
“Thanks, Grandma. Totally gonna do a mini-workout at the nicest restaurant in town in my best suit.”
She gave an amused half-shrug. “Then don’t complain.”
Nick huffed a laugh and buried his hands deeper in his pockets.
“So is this hockey player of yours…?”
“Oh myGod, did my mom put you up to this?”
“No, but thanks for letting me know I should talk to her about it. Terry tried to be tight-lipped about the whole affair, but I can tell he thinks you’re rather taken with him.”
“He’s just a guy from my hockey team.”
“Let me guess… cute?” She waited for him to nod. “Smart? Funny? Kind? Good at hockey?” Each received reluctant acknowledgment. “Interested in men? Or is that the only hang-up?”
“Unclear, but… dunno, I’ve got this feeling. Gut instinct maybe. Or just wishful thinking.”
“Then ask him out, hon. It’s almost the 2020s; it’s more than allowed.”
“Ehhh… that same gut feeling tells me I can’t spook him by coming on too strong. Like maybe he’s not out yet.”
“Spook him?” Her eyes went wide, and she laughed. “He’s not a horse, hon. If you come on too strong and scare him, he might not be worth the effort of tiptoeing around.”
“Oh, he’s worth the effort. Trust me.” That was the one thing he was certain of. Underneath the layers of dry humor and quiet brooding, Brady was a genuinely good guy that Nick had a lot in common with. He’d seen enough glimpses to know they had the potential for something great…
