Fuck me silly. My favorite.
She must have seen my mouth watering.
“Shane, I don’t ask for any favoritism. You give the kids even minutes. Give Danny less minutes if you want.
“Miss Petrosevich, You’re an absolute sweetheart,” I said as I opened it up and looked at the lemony, powdered sugary goodness. “I’ll make sure you get this tin back.”
“Just my way of saying thanks. These kids--they really need this. Especially in the winter. And please, call me Lily.”
“Lily. I know they do.”
“Danny said he wouldn’t play for any coach but you.”
“That’s very nice of him. Our rec league has many fantastic coaches, though.”
She sighed, and sat down next to me.
“Some days, Shane, I look around and I think, ‘Where have all the good men gone?’ and then I think, well, there’s that Shane. Thank God there’s one. These kids need a role model.”
My skin tingled, and not in a good way.
I was far from a good man, especially considering the plan I had in mind with my friends for Natalie.
But we’d been wronged. And sometimes, for evil to grow, the only thing needed is for a good man to do nothing.
At least, that’s what I kept trying to tell myself.
“Right. Someone not afraid to beat them in races,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
“I’m being serious. This drug thing happening right now is an epidemic. They need an outlet, and I’m really thankful you’re here to give them the gift of hockey. They really look up to you.”
“We’ve got to look out for each other, here. That’s all I’m doing. Anyone in my place would do the same.”
“Right. Well, if you ever want an ear to listen, or grab a drink…”
“I appreciate the offer. But you know I don’t like to go out with the parents of my little athletes.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. What do you do, for fun?”
Seduce Floridians, apparently.
“Isn’t that, uh, your boyfriend?” I pointed to the guy who had filed in the back. He had salt and pepper hair, and had a definite silver fox look going on, if I did say so myself.
She put her hand on my wrist and laughed. “Oh, no, him? I like my men...younger,” she said, giving me a look like a cougar advancing on its prey.
I cursed my love of lemon bars for putting me in this situation. But hey, I had to get my fix somewhere. If lemon bars were on the list of my worst vices, I’d take that over lots of things.
“Well, lot of guys out there to choose from,” I said, bobbing my head toward the rink, where my friends were all skating around. “See you next week, Mrs. Petrosevich.”
“Please, it’s Miss. And call me Lily.”
I stood up and launched myself onto the ice. “Have a good one,” I returned, doing my best to be as neutral as possible.
But I’d have to be an idiot not to miss the suggestion in her eyes before she walked away.
Hey, every guy has a weakness. Or two. Lemon bars and Natalie Toft were mine, apparently.
I felt a lot better after an hour or so of playing in my own hockey game with my pals and working up a sweat. We won easily, in a nine to three route.
After the game, as I was taking off my skates, the mysterious silver fox in the back approached me and took a seat right next to me.
“You look good out there,” he said. “Surprisingly sharp.”
“Surprisingly?” I asked without looking over at him.
This town sometimes had weird people in it. I’d been a bit of a sensation in my high school days. For some locals, the aura of my high school celebrity still lingered, even though I couldn’t give two shits about my status. Sometimes people showed up just to congratulate me on the high school hockey state championship I had won.
“Jeremy Chelios,” he said, sticking a hand to my side that I didn’t shake, as I was in the middle of finishing tying my shoes. “Scout for the Chicago Huskies.”
My ears perked up at that, and I finally looked at his face.
He had deep set, blue eyes that felt like they were prodding me for information.
“And what are you doing here?” I asked, standing up and not shaking his hand.
“The question is, what are you doing here?” he said, blocking my way so I couldn’t get to the aisle.
“Coaching kids from my hometown, and having a little fun in my rec league, what does it look like?”
“You know you shouldn’t be here. You belong in professional hockey.”
I scoffed. “Yes, I do belong here. This is my town. This is where I’m from, and this is where I belong. Excuse me.” I angled past him and up the stairs.
“Fourteen and a half seconds,” he called out.
I turned. “Excuse me?”
Walking up to me, he showed me the stopwatch in his hand. “That’s how fast I had you racing that kid around the rink. Half of the players in the NHL couldn’t skate that on their best day and you did it without warming up or even tightening up your skates.”
“Look, I know what you’re doing. I’m not going to play, unless you plan on bringing a team to within an hour of Black Mountain. Do you?”
Jeremy sighed, shaking his head. “You’re a good kid, that’s what I like about you. That’s why I came all the way up here even though every other scout said you’re a lost cause.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m not moving to Chicago. It’s too far from here. Even Milwaukee would be a stretch.”
“Minnesota?”
“You’re wasting your time. I’ve got a home and a place here. This is where I belong.” I put my cap on and was about to head out the door when he said something that finally gave me pause.
“You know, you could do a lot more good for the people here if you had some money. How are you even getting by?”
“I’m doing fine,” I said, and it came out more of a growl.
“Are you?”
I flashed back to when I’d said those exact same words yesterday, to Natalie.
She was definitely not fine, and hiding it.
Was I doing the same, lying to myself about how I was doing?
“I’m getting by,” I reasoned, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation.
Sensing an opening, he walked quickly toward me. “Getting by doesn’t sound very fun to me. Look, I’m not trying to rip you out of your home tomorrow. But all I’m saying is, for God’s sake, consider giving pro a shot. You’re still sharp, but you’ve got to take the opportunity while it’s here. If you keep playing this bullshit recreational hockey, your skills are going to head south real fast. You need to be playing with the best, get a coach and a team who can help you channel that raw talent. We’ve got one of the best developmental systems in the country.”
“Black Mountain is where all of my friends live,” I informed him. “I’ve known them since I was in diapers.”
“Exactly.”
“So what are you suggesting?” I asked, relenting.
He pulled an envelope out of his pocket with my name on it. “This is a contract to play with the Huskies. You’d most likely have to play a couple of seasons in the minors before you could consider moving up to the NHL, but based on your college playing profile, you could move up the ranks really fast. There’s not a lot of players with your versatility these days.”