He studies the jerseys hanging on the racks with the seriousness of someone picking out their first car. I suppress my smile. This kid is something. Finally, he pulls one off the rack and holds it up triumphantly.
“This one.”
I stare down at it and go cold inside. “Are you sure? What about the captain’s jersey? Wouldn’t you rather have one with the C on it?” A C in hockey designates the team captain. The As are alternate captains.
“No, I want Drakos’s jersey. He’s my favorite player.”
“He is?” I’m blown away. He’s never mentioned this before, and my discomfort grows to epic proportions. Is it possible Noah feels an affinity to this asshole because of shared DNA he’s unaware of? I’ve heard of identical twins who’ve never met having unique bonds, but not a father and son.
“Yes.” His joy fades as he eyes me with suspicion, which has been his normal MO these past few months. Noah doesn’t trust anyone in his life right now. I can only imagine how it feels to lose the one person who cares the most about you in this world.
I point to another jersey. “How about this one?”
“I want number seventy-two.” He scowls, and a full-blown pout or tantrum brews on the horizon.
I heave a resigned sigh and take the jersey from him. I carry it to the line for the cash register with Noah on my heels. We manage to return to our seats while they’re still in warm-ups, much to my surprise.
Noah pulls the jersey over his head, and I shrink down in my seat, hoping Drakos doesn’t notice. Unfortunately, within the next couple seconds, Drakos skates right past us. He spots Noah, who’s standing on his feet with his hands and face pressed against the glass. Drakos breaks into a broad grin. Taps the glass and hoists his stick over the plexiglass. Noah is beside himself as he hugs the stick to his small body.
Drakos glances my way and does a double take. I don’t have to be a mind reader to know he’s wondering what the hell this kid next to me is doing wearing his jersey. I bet he thinks it’s some kind of trap I’m setting. I can’t blame him.
He points at Noah and then at me, mouthing the word, “Yours?”
I nod. He hesitates for a moment longer before skating toward the tunnel and disappearing. The boys are jabbering excitedly over Noah’s gift. I’m numb with fear. As soon as the season’s over, I should put in for a transfer back to California or somewhere, anywhere but the team Drakos is on.
With my luck, I’d change teams, and he’d end up traded to them.
I can’t move Noah now. He’s making friends and is doing better than he did even when his mother was alive. As much as I love my sister, I’ll be the first to admit she wasn’t a great mother. She loved her son, but she also saw him as an inconvenience more often than not.
Noah squeezes my arm. “Are you okay, Auntie?” His concern surprises me and warms my heart.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile and give him a quick hug, drawing a frown from him. He doesn’t want to be hugged in front of his homeys. I try not to laugh.
I’m unreasonably paranoid. Drakos doesn’t know a damn thing. He doesn’t have a clue that Noah is the child he gave up, even if the woman he got pregnant and I have the same last name. Besides, he probably has other kids out in the wild that he’s either disowned or denied paternity because that’s the kind of jerk he is.
Regardless, I can’t shake this niggling feeling of impending doom.
During intermission, we guide the boys to one of the concession stands for hot dogs. While we wait for the food, the kids stand in a circle talking hockey.
A middle-aged woman comes up to Gardenia, and they welcome each other warmly. She radiates confidence in that fuck-around-and-find-out way that some women have. I wouldn’t cross her. “Gardenia, I’m so sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Please know that your dad’s case is not being ignored, but we’re a little shorthanded right now, as our business is booming.”
“Michella mentioned how busy you guys were. I understand. I’ve waited this long. I can wait a while longer.”
“I appreciate your patience. We’ll get on it as soon as possible.” The woman notices something. “Oh. Sorry, I have to go.” She hurries away before Gardenia has a chance to introduce us. As a journalist, I’m naturally nosy, but I don’t get a chance to pepper Gardenia with questions about her curious conversation. It’s my turn at the counter. I order hot dogs and fries. Not the healthiest meal, but sometimes a person has to live dangerously. We return to our seats a few minutes later.
The score is tied one-one, and it’s been a brutal battle so far. They’re leaving it all out on the ice, and it’s a toss-up who’ll win this one. Their goalie, Roman Daniels, is dialed in. He’s incredible when he’s confident, but if his confidence erodes, he loses his shit. Inconsistency is his biggest issue, which is all mental and nothing to do with ability.
I want the Icehawks to win more fervently than expected. Normally, I stay disconnected from a team I’m reporting on, but these guys are different. I’ve been reporting on the Icehawks since their initial expansion draft, and I’ve been with them every step of the way since they officially became a team.
If they win this one, I’m going to write a positive piece about perseverance and the difficulties of building a playoff team from scratch. That’ll shock ‘em. Except for Drakos. He’s not given me any good things to point out. He’s played his game but hasn’t contributed to the score in terms of a goal or assist. Some would say I should cut him a little slack since he saved my ass over a week ago, but that’s not happening.
So far, the Icehawks’ lone score comes from Camden Hale, a guy I’ve been almost as critical of as I am Drakos, but Camden has really stepped up lately. He may turn out to be the biggest waiver steal of the season. His old team literally got nothing for him.
At second intermission, Gardenia slides into the seat next to me. When I glance questioningly at her, she grimaces. “I need some adult interaction.”
“I hear you.”
We share a laugh and talk while waiting for the third period to start. I decide to ask about the woman who came up to Gardenia earlier. Maybe it’s none of my business, but I feel that if we’ve become good enough friends, she’ll tell me if that’s how she feels.
