But I don’t see a word flash in my mind nor hear a voice. Just a feeling to wait and see what happens, exactly like Four Eyes suggested.
36
Val
I throw on my Warriors hockey sweater—a.k.a. Jabari’s jersey—over my long-sleeve tee. The blue sweater is so cozy, and I know it’ll keep me warm in the arena. They claim the average temp is sixty degrees, but I’ve felt chilled to the bone before, so I’m not buying it. Plus, the temps around the ice can feel near the teens. That’s definitely sweater weather.
I run a comb through my hair, thankful the curled edges have maintained. No need to re-create the look with a flat iron. Ready to go, I grab my cell. My ID and credit card are already hiding in the hardback covering my phone, so I don’t need to bring a purse. I don’t own a clear stadium bag—as much as my family goes to sporting events you’d think I’d have bought one by now—but I usually opt for a minimalist approach anyway.
The hotel managed to give me a room on the same floor as the team (probably a mistake on their part), so it’s just a matter of walking down the hall toward Jabari’s room. After rapping my knuckles against the wood, it swings open. He blinks at me, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Did I wake you?” I ask.
“Yeah. Guess those meds made me more tired than I anticipated.” He covers his mouth as he yawns. “Is it game time already?”
I resist the urge to nod. “Yes.”
“Okay. I already laid out my suit. Give me a moment, ’kay?”
“I’ll wait out here.”
He nods and gently shuts the door.
As I stand outside his room, the other doors begin to open. Michel Pascal, the left wing, strides out of his room in a navy-blue suit. Then Kim Tae Lee, their defenseman, comes out wearing a black suit. He looks like he could be in a K-pop group or acting in a K-drama. I’ve seen his fans refer to themselves as KTL-Fans. He has a huge following Stateside and internationally.
“Val!” Raimo shouts. He grins as he walks toward me. “Waiting for Crank?”
“Yeah. He’s just changing.”
“And don’t you look perfect in that sweater? My wife is wearing something similar.”
“Is she getting ready now?”
He rolls his eyes. “Fixing her face. She’ll be lucky if she sees the puck drop.”
My facial routine has diminished. I nixed the false lashes and hour-long makeup application. I have a five-minute face now and love it. Feels more like myself.
Raimo jerks his chin to the closed door. “Are you and my boy finally official?” he asks quietly.
“I really like him, Raimo.”
“I told you, you needed a hockey player.”
I grin. “That you did. Are you going to gloat over this now?”
“Nah, just name your first kid after me. Keep up the naming tradition.”
I laugh just as Jabari steps out of the room.
His brow quirks. “What’s so funny?”
Raimo repeats the naming request, and Jabari joins in the laughter.
“I would never name my kid Raimo. No one would know how to pronounce it.”
“Then use my last name,” he replies simply.
Jabari rolls his eyes. “Karvonen is worse.”
