Afterward, they drove home.Breezy, Camille, and Charlie sat cramped in the back seat of the station wagon like a very strange clown car with one clown twice the size of the other two put together.Once they arrived, Breezy begged off to go home and watch the All-Star coverage.His eyes were too bright for that to be the unvarnished truth.
“You’re sure you’re okay to be by yourself?”Phil asked.
“Oh, yeah.Weddings, man, I love them.”Breezy wiped his eyes.
“I mean about…”
“I’ll be fine.Watching my Italian D-bro tear it up at the ASG will make me feel better.”
Italian D-bro, Ben mouthed to himself.Number six on the list of silliest things about hockey was the players pretending theDdidn’t have a firmly established cultural meaning, and the letter did not stand for “defense.”
“Thanks for being our witness,” Ben said to him.
“It was an honor.”
How did a human being survive being so earnest?
“I promise it won’t affect the team,” Ben added, remembering that as far as Breezy knew, Phil had just married their coach.
Breezy clapped him on the shoulder.It nearly made Ben’s knees buckle.“I’m not worried about it.Congratulations, Coach!”
He got into his pickup and headed out, leaving the rest of them standing in the drive.
Camille watched him go.“What a character.You know, he asked me about my guy for the WAG jackets.Apparently, the current WAGs are having trouble getting it organized.”
With three of the team’s leaders in relationships with other men, it must be difficult.And most of the other guys old enough to have long-term partners were Europeans with European wives and girlfriends.They all spoke better English than Ben spoke Russian or Finnish, but he doubted those WAGs were interested in arranging tacky matching jackets for a group of women they barely knew.
“The WAGs do love him,” Phil said, bemused.
“He’s always very respectful,” Camille told them.“And very polite.Last year, I think he spoke to me more about my modeling career than you did.”
“Sounds like Breezy.”Phil didn’t defend himself, and Ben gathered from his sheepish expression that he was not, in fact, interested in Camille’s modeling career.“So, are you coming to the afterparty?”
“There’s an afterparty?”Camille asked.
“I’m throwing some steaks on the grill, and then we’re going to eat cake.”
“We have cake?”Ben asked.“Is the cake my present?”
“Nope,” Phil said cheerfully.
“You’re going to barbecue for the three of you, have a slice of cake, and call it a day,” Camille said.“For your wedding.”
“Yup.”
She turned to Ben.“That works for you?”
For a long time, Ben had assumed if he ever got married, it would be a Mormon ceremony with a woman.The thought had never been appealing.Ben had been to enough temple ceremonies (the reception, not the sealing itself; he didn’t have the kind of status in the church required to attend, despite his parents’ best efforts).They consisted of a lot of pageantry and ritual, accompanied by a boatload of expectations no couple managed to fulfill without looking very stressed the entire time.As far as Ben was concerned, steak and cake were a huge step up.
“Why wouldn’t it?”he responded.
A bright, brilliant smile spread across Camille’s face.“Well done, Phil.You two are much better suited than we ever were.”
“I mean, I know,” Phil said.“But I did think you’d be a little shocked he’s a man.”
“That part was a surprise,” she admitted.“But the rest…”
“The rest?”
