“Wow. So polite,” I said. “This is my friend, Gabi. Miss Ordoñez at school. She teaches first grade.”
“Ah,” he said. “No cane today, eh?”
“I’m feeling pretty good today, thanks,” I said and he looked relieved. Normally, I’d get annoyed at someone congratulating me for being cane-free. But instead of him spinning some narrative that I was “cured,” he seemed relieved that I wasn’t in pain. For my sake.
That felt nice. Really nice.
“Kids look good today,” I said.
He scoffed. “They look like shit.”
Gabi giggled, as did the woman in front of us. How could you not laugh at a guy who went from being a cheerleader of my comfort and success to shitting on a children’s hockey team?
“Hey, Hazey,” Jack said, holding up his hand for Hazel to high five. Instead, she lunged to fall into his arms. “Aw.” Jack stuck out his bottom lip and hugged her so wholeheartedly. “You’re a good little buddy. You give the best hugs.”
Again, my stomach flip-flopped like it did when I first saw him playing with Hazel in his garage. Seeing this man’s tattooed hands, and neck for that matter, wrapped around my daughter with a smile so genuine, I just wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it. Hazel was so relaxed with him, the only man in her life, and he was still just an every-once-in-a-while friend. Though now that I thought about it, they’d seen each other at least a handful of times.
And that meant I’d seen Jack that many times.
Instead of going back to stand with his dad gang, Jack stayed with Hazel in his arms, pointing out different things the team was doing. When Harper missed a point, he stopped himself from cussing, saying a big, “Aw, shoot,” instead.
Hazel repeated him with a “soot.” When practice ended, I took Hazel back and we shuffled toward the rink’s exit.
I lost Jack in the shuffle until there was a tap on my shoulder when I was getting Aspen’s skates off.
“Come to my game Saturday?” he asked.
“Uh, I, uh?—”
“A Princes game?” Aspen asked, preparing to jump for joy.
“You got other plans?” Jack pushed, like he was bored and tired of my excuses.
“No, I just, it’s kinda,” I lowered my voice and leaned into his side, “pricy.”
Jack leveled me with a look. “I’ll send you your seats. And no arguing about me paying.”
My mouth flapped. “I’ve heard parking is tough?—”
He stared at the rink’s ceiling and sighed. “I’ll pick you up and give you a tour before the game.”
I twisted my lips and tossed my head from side to side.
“Please, Mom?” Aspen asked.
“You can bring her,” Jack said, begrudgingly flinging his hand at Gabi.
Gabi cackled. “Wow! I’m honored!” She imitated his voice. “Her!”
“Fine,” I conceded. “But are you going to be grumpy the whole time? I like to surround myself with positive people.”
Jack leaned in closer to my ear, so the kids couldn’t hear. “I’ll be however I want to be.”
My face went stony, and I didn’t care who was around us. “Brat.”
Jack looked affronted and stepped back. “No, you’re the brat.”
I just raised my eyebrows at him and took Aspen’s hand. “We’ll see about that. See you Saturday.”
