Chapter 17
Leave Her Alone
~~Drakos~~
* * *
Game three was a repeat of game one and two with a huge exception. We won. The arena was rocking as I’ve never heard it before. Our fans have taken it to the next level, and we responded as a team by doing the same. Roman played lights-out. I scored a goal and had an assist. All in all, a productive night. Afterward, I went out with the guys and drank a little too much, but a guy has to let loose and celebrate once in a while.
Today it’s back to work, even though it’s Sunday. I scan All Hockey News for Aria’s latest article and don’t find one. Some other guy who calls himself the Hockey Messiah is writing absolute drivel about us. I frown and note that she hasn’t published an article since we returned from the road trip last week. Maybe she’s taking a break, though in the middle of the playoffs seems like the worst time.
After practice, I walk downstairs to the rink store. Scotty, the manager, asked me to sign some posters, and I’m finally getting around to it.
When I enter, Scotty’s with a customer. I don’t want to interrupt so I wander through the racks, checking out the merch. I admire an Icehawks quarter-zip pullover before moving toward the row of sticks. The Icehawks provide everything, but it’s fun to look at what’s out there.
I hear a familiar voice and freeze. The customer currently speaking with Scotty is Aria. With her is Noah, who’s looking awful serious for a child of his age. My heart goes out to him. He’s a good kid, and I recognize the sadness in his eyes. It’s sadness from losing someone important in your life, and I relate to his pain.
I edge closer, keeping out of sight behind tall shelves lined with skates.
“He’ll love these. They’re top-of-the-line.” Scotty rang up the purchase, and I heard an audible gasp from Aria. I suspect she has sticker shock. Quality skates are damned expensive. I recall how my parents sacrificed and went without so I could have the best. Thoughts of them leave a lump in the pit of my stomach. I miss them, but there’s nothing I can do to change what happened.
As I watch, Aria hands Scotty a credit card. Several seconds later, he looks up from the machine. “It’s denied. Let me try it again. This machine can be finicky.”
He does with the same result.
Aria is clearly embarrassed. “I have another card. Try this one.”
Scotty runs the card and shakes his head grimly. “I’m sorry.”
Noah is stony-faced. By his expression, he’s old enough to know what’s happening here. His lip quivers, but he holds back the tears.
“It’s fine, Aunt Aria. I don’t need new skates. I’ll keep using the old ones.”
“But you’re getting blisters. They’re too small, and it’s going to affect your ability to skate.”
Scotty watches their interaction with sympathy. Aria tuns to him.
“I’m between jobs. Do you have a layaway plan or anything?”
“I’m afraid not. You can apply for assistance, but approval takes a few weeks. Here’s an application.” Scotty hands her a piece of paper.
I listen with increased curiosity. Aria lost her job? I had no idea. That’s why the Hockey Messiah is writing her articles. I wonder if she quit or if she was fired. Aria must be in dire straits to have maxed out two credit cards and no available cash to pay for the skates. I’m not privy to her financial situation, and it’s none of my business. Regardless, it’s important to me that Noah wear properly fitting gear. I like this kid. He reminds me of myself at his age, and maybe that’s why I feel an affinity for him. He shouldn’t be punished for his aunt’s poor handling of her business affairs and loss of a job.
I step out from behind the shelves and walk up to Noah.
“Hey, little man, how ya doing?” I hold up a fist, and Noah bumps it with his smaller one.
“Okay.” He stares down at his feet, and I frown. Usually he’s more upbeat than this, though I’ll admit I haven’t had too many interactions with him.
Aria says nothing. I’m guessing she’s mortified that I might’ve overheard her conversation. She’s an independent woman, and I doubt she likes being in this situation.
I pull out my wallet. “Let me take care of that.”
“You don’t need to do this.” Aria’s protest is feeble and unconvincing. When it comes to Noah, she’s willing to swallow her pride
“I know I don’t, but I want to.”
I kneel down in front of Noah and smile. “You’re growing pretty fast, eh?”
