“Yeah. It was very generous of her. We sent her and her husband on a trip to a tropical destination after, but it doesn’t quite feel like it covers it, you know?”
“I’m sure.”
Simon appeared at Noah’s elbow.
“Hey, thanks for grabbing Théo earlier. I had my hands full. Tyson offered to help but neither of them wanted to be held by a stranger, apparently.”
“Of course.” Noah jiggled Théo. “You gotta make Dad’s life difficult, huh, dude?”
Théo giggled, his face still buried in the crook of Noah’s neck.
Simon laughed and turned to Thad. “Hey, Thad. Sorry, I’m being rude. Let me introduce myself, I’m Simon Lawrence. I don’t know if Noah mentioned it, but I’ve been wanting to speak to you about?—”
But Gavin swooped in. “Hey. Sorry, guys. I got pulled away for a moment. Are you ready to head up to your seats? You’ll be sitting with Finn and me on the executive level, if that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah, as long as the kids won’t disturb you?” Noah said, jiggling Théo.
“Not at all. There’s a private restroom and quiet lounge area nearby you can use, and Finn hasplentyof experience wrangling kids. Me, not so much, although I’m always game to try.” He smiled. “Do you need ear protection for them?”
“No, we brought some.”
And then they were all heading down the hall, leaving a very confused Thad in their wake.
Simon turned back. “I’ll catch up with you after the game, Thad!”
“Sounds great,” he said, although he still didn’t have acluewhat the hell was going on.
“Hey, where’s your guy?” Rafe asked as he fired a puck toward Mickey behind the net during warmups.
Graham glanced up from where he’d been stickhandling, batting the puck back and forth in figure eights, the same way he had before every game since he’d started doing it in college. “I dunno. Look for the guy with the big camera?”
Rafe laughed. “No. Not him. Crawford’s guy.”
He nodded toward Luke who had playfully crushed Tanner against the boards, then skated toward them. The same way he did every game.
They were a superstitious bunch, Graham had to admit.
Both Graham and Luke gave Rafe a confused look though. “What the fuck are you talking about? I don’t have a guy,” Crawford said.
Rafe rolled his eyes. “No, not like that. Not that you’redating. The chirper guy. Vintage jersey.” The puck landed on his tape again and he fired it back to Mickey without even looking.
“Oh,him.” Crawford’s expression turned sour. “I dunno. Why?”
“Well, he’s been at a bunch of home games in Boston lately, right?”
Crawford shrugged. “I guess? All I fucking know about him is that he was always at the New York games wearing a vintage Rockets jersey and chirping my ass. I assumed he traveled here or whatever when New York was playing here in Boston, but I don’t know anything else about him.”
“Right,” Rafe said. “But he’s been here at a bunch of game against other teams lately, yeah?”
“Uhh, I suppose? I mean that sounds right, but I never really thought about it that closely.”
“And he always sits near the penalty box.”
“Yeah. Can’t fuckin’ resist being a dick.” Crawford scowled.
Graham chuckled.
“So, he’s not there tonight.” Rafe looked pointedly toward the seats near the penalty box, then shot the puck back to Mickey where it landed square on his tape.
