The tags on five collars jingled as his pack of fur babies clustered around him. Kiki, the toy poodle, yipped at him, her tiny tail wagging so hard her little butt was shaking. Sephie, a brindle pit bull who was also scarred and missing most of her left ear after being rescued from a fighting ring, shot him a wide, panting grin. His brown Labrador, Tallulah, eyed him hopefully, and Petey, the Chihuahua/terrier mix, bounced on his hind legs, pawing at Daniel’s knee. Only the border collie, Rocket, appeared disinterested, but the twitching ears gave him away.
Daniel stopped stirring long enough to dole out a few mini carrots to each dog. “It’ll be good for you guys,” he said to Tristan. “And for her! You know I’m an ‘adopt don’t shop’ kinda guy. I know without a doubt she’ll have a loving home with you.”
“She will.” Tristan bit his lip and looked away from the screen for a second. “And maybe someday, I don’t know...maybe we can provide that for some kids, too. We’ve talked about it. Like, possibly making things official in a couple of years. Only casually so far, but...” The corner of his mouth crooked up. “When you know, you know, right? I love him so much. Even if I get traded, I... We’d make it work, no matter what.”
“Of course.” Daniel nodded encouragingly, ignoring the pang in his chest. Once, when he and Tabby stood in front of a pastor to exchange their vows, he’d thought they were a no-matter-what couple, too. He hadn’t lost her as either a co-parent or a friend, but sometimes, mostly when he was alone in bed at night, he missed the feeling of being in love. “You’re great with kids. I know mine adore you. I think you’d make a wonderful father.”
Tristan ducked his head. Even with the fuzzy video quality, Daniel saw the red blush staining his cheeks. “I want to be. Not right now, but, yeah. Someday.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, how are things going with the Thunder? They still freezing you out?”
Daniel sighed and grabbed the kettle from the stovetop. The water had cooled enough to pour over the dehydrated fruit and vegetables he’d eventually combine with the turkey. “I’ve had lunch with Demetrius and some of the other guys a few times, but it’s weird. I don’t get this team. Cedric is acting like I’m here to usurp his throne, but I just want to play hockey with teammates who don’t act like they’ve already packed it in for the season. I mean, it’s not even November yet.”
“No way they’ll improve with that kind of attitude,” Tristan said.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Daniel switched off the burner under the pan of simmering meat and fixed his attention on the screen. “I get that they’re tired of sucking. You’ve been to this arena plenty of times. If the seats aren’t half empty, they’re packed with fans for the opposing team. I know that’s like a punch to the junk when you’re out there playing your heart out, but damn. It’s one thing to give it your all and fail. It’s quite another to not even try.”
“Well, if anyone can improve their attitude, it’s you. That’s what you’re there for, right?”
Daniel snorted. “Yeah, but I think you might be a little biased, buddy.”
“Nope,” Tristan said, earnest as always. “You and I both know there are people whose mere presence makes a whole team better. You feel the lack of them in the locker room when they’re gone, trust me. It’s like we’ve lost a family member, not having you here. Some skates aren’t so easy to fill.”
“Holtzy...” Daniel rubbed the back of his flushed neck and huffed a quiet laugh. “You sure know how to compliment a guy. Thank you.” If his voice was rough, well, hockey was an emotional sport, and Tristan would be the last person to ever give him shit for getting sentimental. Daniel might’ve left the Venom of his own volition, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss his boys, and this player in particular.
“I only speak the truth.” Tristan nodded sagely. “What else are you up to? Still texting that old friend of yours? The dolphin guy?”
“Micah.” The thought of his childhood pal put a grin on Daniel’s face. They’d spent so much time together as kids, he might’ve called Micah a brother had it not been for the enduring crush he’d nursed from about fourth grade until he moved away before high school. Hell, it’d probably started even earlier, if Daniel were being honest. He remembered declaring he would marry Micah someday, way back in kindergarten. Five-year-old Micah had told him he needed to be taller first. “Yeah, we’ve been texting here and there. He wants me to come down to the aquarium for a tour sometime.”
“You should go. If your teammates can’t get over themselves, maybe hanging out with some non-hockey people will do you good. I know it doesn’t feel like it sometimes, but there’s more to life than this game. I’m glad I have Seb to remind me of that when I need it.”
“You’re right.” Daniel grabbed the pan of ground turkey and started scooping it into the big bowl of rehydrated cabbage, sweet potatoes, bananas, and apples. “How is everyone else? Ryu? Morley? He hasn’t texted me since last weekend, and I think he was wasted at the time because the messages didn’t make any sense whatsoever.”
The sound that came out of Tristan was somewhere between a cough and a wheeze. “Oh man. Yeah, that night. I remember. We were all out at the rooftop bar again—that’s where it started, anyway—and...just... I swear, this is the kind of crap that only ever happens to Trevor Morley.”
Daniel laughed, already anticipating the shenanigans. Morley rarely disappointed in that department. “Well, come on, then,” he said as he got to stirring the food. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
* * *
After nearly an hour on the phone with Tristan and another fifteen minutes cleaning up the kitchen, Daniel found a rag and a bottle of furniture polish and got to dusting. By noon, every surface in the house gleamed. He took the dogs out into the yard for a few rounds of fetch, but not even spending time with his best pals helped with the bored, restless feeling that had taken residence in his gut as soon as he and Tristan ended their chat.
Exercise was an option, but the idea of forcing himself onto a treadmill or lifting weights held no appeal. He could call Gretchen and Nathaniel, but it was their weekend with Tabby, and while he knew they’d welcome him, he respected the boundaries and routines they’d established since Tabby officially moved to Florida in mid-October. She’d found a job with an investment firm in downtown Miami and rented a nice little house only a few miles from where Daniel now lived, but he didn’t equate the proximity to an open invitation to stop by whenever he got bored. If—when—she started dating again, he couldn’t be popping in all the time. She deserved her privacy, and he needed to learn how to fill the empty days when his kids were gone.
Daniel slumped onto the couch with his phone in hand and was immediately surrounded by warm, furry bodies. He absently stroked Tallulah’s boxy, brown head while scrolling through his recent text messages. Without really thinking about it, he opened Instagram and pulled up the aquarium’s profile, liking the recent #selfiewithsilver posts.