I push open the church door, and the sun hits my face, and for the first time in a long time, I look up and smile.
Chapter Eleven
Justin
“You need to skate up the wide more.” I look down at Dylan. “You skate to the middle too much.” He looks at me, his chest heaving after his play. It was a good play with him skating to the middle and then shooting the puck. “It worked this time, but when you go too much down the middle, you can get blocked in by the defense before the puck even hits the goalie. If you skate in the side, the goalie is usually stuck to one side of the post, giving you a big opening on the other side.” He just nods his head, and I know he’ll understand it if he sees it. “Watch Ralph.” I call over to the other side of the ice where Ralph is teaching another play and raise my hand to tell him to come here. He skates over and stops in front of me. “I want to show Dylan how to skate down the side with the puck and not to the middle. Do you think you can play defense?” I joke with him, and he just smirks.
“It’s summer, right?” he asks, skating backward in front of me. “Which means I don’t really have to go easy on you.” He tilts his head to the side, and I look at the bench and see that all the kids are watching this one-on-one.
“You think you can stop me?” I goad him, skating to the middle of the ice and dropping a puck.
“No one is here to tell me to go easy on you.” He winks at me, and I just shake my head. “Golden boy, my ass,” he continues, and I skate around in a circle before skating over to the puck and making the play. I’ve been practicing against Ralph for the past five years. He got drafted to Edmonton the year before me, and when you are number one on the team, they make you train with the number one defenseman, and that is Ralph. His eyes aren’t on the puck; instead, his eyes are on me. Another thing he does better than anyone is read the play. I skate to the right, and the puck hits the blade of my stick. I skate to the left, and my eyes go to Ralph, who skates backward never leaving or moving with me. My hands slide the puck right and left as I make my way down the ice, and I move more to the right. Once I pass the blue line, I pick up speed, and he stops skating and makes me move right to left to see which way he is going to go. His body is now close to mine, and he knows that if he gives me just a touch more space, I’m going to slap in the puck. But he doesn’t; instead, he sticks out his stick and tries to poke check me, giving me just enough room to shoot the puck under his raised hand and into the net. The kids on the bench cheer loudly, making Ralph laugh and then push me away. “You got lucky.”
“No such thing as luck.” I wink at him this time and skate back to the bench as the horn sounds, letting us know it’s time to rotate the groups. “Okay, that’s it for you guys.” I watch them walk off to the changing area and then feel Ralph looking at me while he drinks some water. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just wondering if Justin Stone has finally met his match?” I’ve been asking myself that same question.
I shrug at him. “No fucking clue. The only thing I know is that I can’t walk away.”
“Don’t tell me that the biggest bachelor in hockey is finally going to be taken?” He goads me with the title that I’ve gotten through the years, making me roll my eyes and look away. I skate off the ice and see that it’s lunchtime. Unlacing my skates, I walk outside, pulling my phone out of my pocket to call Caroline. My hands suddenly get clammy. I wait for her to answer, and when she does on the third ring, it sounds like she’s out of breath.
“Hey,” I say softly and then hear traffic in the background.
“Hey,” she says, and it almost sounds like she’s running.
“Where are you?” I ask, going over and sitting on the bench outside the rink.
“I just left the grocery store,” she says, and her breathing doesn’t let down. “I’m on my way home.”
“Are you running home?” I ask and smile, thinking about her. Her green eyes that light up only when she looks at Dylan.
“No.” She laughs, something she doesn’t do often, but something I want her to do more. “I’m walking home. I somehow didn’t think about the walk when I was filling the cart,” she says.
“You’re walking home?” I ask as I sit up, my voice coming out harsher than I mean to.
“Yes,” she says, ignoring my tone. “I thought about taking the bus, but it just made more sense to walk.”
“How far?” I ask, and she lets out a big breath as if my questions are annoying her.
“Did you need something?” she cuts me off and ignores my question.
“There are a lot of things I need,” I say. “The first thing is for you to let me in.” I close my eyes when the words tumble out of my mouth.
“Justin.” The way she says my name, it is almost like a breakup. I’m waiting for her to start with the “It’s not you, it’s me” speech.
“God,” I say, wishing I could hang up and start this over again. “I was just calling to check on you and see what you were up to.”
“I went grocery shopping, and now I’m on my way home,” she says. “How is Dylan? Is he okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. “He’s fine.”
“Okay, I have to let you go. The bags are slipping out of my hands, and I’m trying not to drop the phone. Gotta go,” she says and hangs up. I look at the phone, and I dial the one person who I know I shouldn’t, but I do anyway.
“Grasshopper,” he says, answering the phone, and I laugh.
“Will you ever not call me that?” I ask Matthew, who now laughs.
“Nope.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “What’s up?”
“Does something have to be up to call my big brother?” I say, but even I don’t buy it.
“The last time you called me, you wanted me to break it to Mom that you didn’t want to come home Christmas because the girl you wanted to bag bought a bunny suit.”
“That is not what I said,” I say with a groan. “A bunch of people were going to Colorado to ski.”
“And were you not bringing a girl with you?” he asks, and I don’t answer. “And did she not put bunny ears on?”
“It’s a Snapchat filter,” I say.
“I honestly have no idea what that means,” he says. “And I don’t really want to know. Sounds like some dirty shit.”
I laugh. “I’ll explain it to you again when I see you.”
“I can’t wait,” he says sarcastically. “Now to what pleasure do I owe this phone call?”
“I need to ask you something, and before I do, I need you not to bust my balls about anything,” I say, suddenly regretting my decision to call him.
“Why do you do this to me?” he asks.
“I also need for you not to tell anyone.” I add that in even though I know he’ll tell Karrie.
“Jesus, did you get a girl pregnant?” I know he’s talking between clenched teeth. “How many times did I tell you to wrap it up? Jesus,” he says and doesn’t stop. “Are you going to marry her?”