I close my mouth and settle for a sip of the mocktail. It’s actually really good, and I don’t have the time for chasing around hot single dads anyway. If that’s what Thatcher even is.
“This town needs a bar,” I grumble, as Patti turns away from our table to pick up more drinks that are resting on an empty table beside us.
“Had one,” Benji says. “Just down the street. They closed up because the building needed a total gut job after a pipe burst and flooded the place, and it was too expensive to take on.”
“Wrong on that, doll.” Patti’s back, this time with more drinks for the table. “I hear it was that they just wanted to retire. Folks aren’t local, so who knows.”
“These mocktails would sell like liquor in the city. You could even charge just as much.” I acknowledge.
“That’s all Riley. Barista by day, mixologist by night. Helps the team stay sober when it’s needed,” Patti says as she places the last of the glasses on the table. “Since we are what amounts to a bar around here for the time being, it works. And that round is on the house, but no more until there are some wins on the books, boys.” She gives a wink. “Or you win a competition at The Freeze.”
The others laugh good-naturedly, and I grimace inwardly. The Fox River Freeze is an exhibition-style skills challenge that happens on an open-air rink as part of something bigger the town does, that I am not too clear on. Local festivals are not my thing.
Will I be up to the task of a skills challenge by the time The Freeze happens? It’s not too far off. And how will it look if I don’t compete? Suddenly, another layer of pressure feels like it’s dripping down on me.
More locals file in, and I have to wonder if there’s some sort of citywide event I missed that has people filing in for coffee and dessert. Soon the empty tables are almost gone. Most of the locals acknowledge our table, with Diggs and Benji greeting some of them by name.
Despite the growing crowd, I still notice when Thatcher enters with Jamie. His scowl is still in place, the lines around his mouth and eyes even deeper than they were at the rink.
I can’t help but think back to the way his eyes flashed, his fierce, protective nature almost its own vibrant, living thing.
Something warm punches in my gut. Something too much like longing. Or want.
I study Jamie a minute too, wondering what it would be like to have that talent and that kind of protection. I didn’t have that and was woefully unprepared for the temptations and consequences of life in the big show. If I could help Thatcher get on board with his son’s potential, Thatcher’s protective personality could actually be a huge benefit to Jamie.
If I’m honest, I have half a mind to walk over there and finish our earlier conversation, but Benji scoots nearer to me.
“Just a heads up on Patti,” he says, nodding at where she is across the building. “She loves nothing more than a bit of gossip, so be careful. I once saw her deny service until the guy spilled all the tea, and then it ended up on the local social media gossip page.”
I laugh. “I’m hardly worried about a little bit of local gossip.” In fact, I’m pretty sure the hot carpenter would hate to be the subject of local gossip, if I’m reading him right, so that means I’m all for it. I should go over there and flirt instead of yelling at him, just to add to the gossip fire.
I don’t know what it is about him, but the thought of riling him up again only makes me smile. Maybe its how easy he tapped into those emotions, letting them show when it came to his kid. Maybe I’m just jealous and numb.
Benji shrugs. “Suit yourself. I think we’re going to head to Diggs’s place after this. Wanna come?”
In the past weeks I’ve hung out with Benji and the team a fair amount. We all live in the same modern townhouse complex, and we spend a lot of time together, even the married players.
“I think I want to walk back, run by my place. Then I might be by later.”
“Late practice tomorrow, so it could go late over at Diggs’s,” he warns. “Probably catch the end of the west coast games at least.”
“You tell Charlotte?” I ask, having met Benji’s better half a few times now.
“Charlotte’s working the late shift, so I’m home free.”
I say my see-you-laters and pay my tab, avoiding even looking at the Thatchers’ table. Except I do notice that Gabe and Jamie are sitting alone, just father and son. Each with a coffee and a fruit tart shared between them.
The silence of the cool evening hits me as I start the short walk from The Blue Line to my place. I think about Benji and Charlotte, about how Benji, for all his talent, is happy to stay right where he is with the Iceguard. He likes the town, and the ability to play hockey without it becoming his whole life, without the temptations of the majors. Benji can wax poetic about a small hockey town like Fox River Falls. Hell, he probably knows all the local events that happen as part of the Fox River Freeze. Plus, Charlotte’s a nurse, and they have no kids and no desire for them, leaving him with maybe an unconventional life, but one that suits him.
So of course, all this musing isn’t about Benji at all. It’s about me, selfish guy that I am.
Knowing what I wanted up to this point in my life has been easy—I had the opportunity and ability to become a pro athlete, and I wanted that, then once I was there, hockey was my life. Well, hockey and parties and bad choices.
Now I have the chance to go back to that life. But for all my posturing, I know it’s a long shot, and a one-shot shot atthat. And even if I get there, if I make it, I’m already old by hockey standards. Plus, on top of my age, I’m post rehab for my knee injury, with rumors of my pill problem, and a year of play practically evaporated.
There needs to be another plan—the Plan B I never wanted.
Lost in my thoughts, I find myself in front of an empty building at the corner of the town square and Main Street. The old red brick is beautiful with age, and I realize this must be an old bakery that was then converted to the bar Benji talked about. It’s strange to see a business dark and closed on such a vibrant downtown square. I wonder if the story is what Benji said, or Patti, or something different altogether. Must be something going on to keep someone from reopening the bar or starting something else here. The location must be one of the best in town.
