That, and Rikker wanted to try out.
See, that was just another thing that made me a solid contender for Jackass of the Year. I’d spent the first two months of the year wishing Rikker would just get the hell off my hockey team. But I never would have touched a stick in the first place if it weren’t for him. I’d been dining on a steady diet of anguish and irony all season.
And now, salad greens.
When the turkey finally arrived, I was too hungry to even notice who served it. So at least I had that going for me. And the food was good. Really good. My mother’s brainstorm about how to have a family Thanksgiving in spite of my game schedule had paid off. And I was just thinking optimistic thoughts about dessert when my father began to ask questions about Coach’s forward lineup. And then I felt the dread roll back in waves, the same tension I’d choked on during the first seven weeks of the year.
Because my parents were going torecognizeRikker. And there was nothing to be done about it.
I took a deep breath. “Hey, you know what’s funny?” I asked, trying for casual. I’d gone back and forth all morning, trying to decide whether to say something today, or just let them notice him at the game. But I was afraid there would be some kind of loud Mom reaction — an ear splitting scream of surprise when she saw him. I was afraid to hear to hear her squealing, for all the world to hear, “Mike, why didn’t youtell methat Rikker wason your team?”
Anything but that.
“What’s funny?” my mom prompted me.
“You’ll never guess who turned up on the team this year. Remember Johnny Rikker?”
First, her eyes went wide. Then her mouth dropped open. And, unless I was mistaken, her eyes got wet. “Jesus, really?”
Okay. That was a more dramatic reaction than I’d hoped for. “Yeah.” I chased the last bit of pureed sweet potato around on my plate. But when I tried to eat it, my mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara.
“Wow, honey. I’d always wondered what happened to him. He just…vanished to his grandmother’s. I worried about him.”
My sister piped up. “You mean, because he got beat up and then kicked out for being gay?”
“Now that was just a rumor,” my mother admonished her.
But now I was quietly freaking out. Because I didn’t know my mother had ever heard a rumor like that.
“His family all but FedExed him to the Grandmother,” my father said, folding and refolding his napkin.
“So he’s okay?” my mother asked. “He’s doing well?”
I gave the world’s most casual shrug. “He’s a second line winger. Seems okay to me.”
“Well that’s…” my mother swallowed hard. “That’s just amazing. I always liked that boy. Such a sweetie, even though his mother was such a witch. And now you have your friend back.”
I didn’t have a response that would pass Mom’s finely-honed Bullshit Radar, so I said nothing at all.
“Speaking of your friends,” my father broke in, “how is that young lady you were seeing?”
“Bella?” I smiled. Because it was easy to smile when thinking of her. “It’s just casual, Dad. But Bella’s great. I see a lot of her.”Because she’s the team manager, and on a personal mission to make me drink less. And good luck with that.
“There’s a girl who knows a lot about hockey,” Dad said.
“Damned straight.” It wasn’t until I picked up my third beer and drained it that I realized which words I’d used to agree with him. Jesus.Paging Dr. Freud.
My mother reached across the table to grab my hand. “Mike, why don’t you invite Johnny Rikker out for dinner with us on Saturday?”
“Naw,” I said. “He’ll be with his own people, probably. That’s nice, though, Mom.”
She frowned at me. “Aren’t the two of you still friends?”
Another carefully choreographed shrug. “He’s in a different house. Does anyone know where the men’s is?” I asked. “Excuse me a minute.”
I needed a time out. So I found the bathroom, where classical guitar music was playing over a sound system. And I took my time. On the return trip, I spotted our waiter at the table. He was executing that upscale restaurant maneuver of pushing in my empty chair and refolding my napkin. I held back an extra second to make sure he was clear of the place before I came back.
When I pulled out my chair, something fluttered to the floor. Reaching down, I closed my fingers around a slip of paper.
