It wasn’t until she was back inside Courtney’s with the door firmly shut behind her that she allowed herself to exhale.
What a day…
Chapter 22
Hannah awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and renewed after a good night’s sleep. Her thoughts drifted to yesterday and she threw her legs over the side of the bed, determined to make this day a better one.
Padding barefoot into the kitchen, she flipped on Courtney’s thankfully-electric designer kettle (she hated those stovetop whistling ones), reached into a cabinet for a mug, took out the treasured box of Barry’s teabags she always kept in stock and waited patiently for the water to boil.
Then out of the corner of her eye, she spied a piece of paper beneath the door and raised an eyebrow.
‘Must be a night owl …’ she muttered as she picked up the note, crossing her fingers that next door had accepted her explanation and things were back on more cordial ground. The electric kettle flicked off, indicating the water was ready.
But first, tea.
Sitting at the kitchen island with a steaming cuppa in front of her, Hannah unfolded the note and smoothed the paper on the makeshift countertop surface.
Motion-activated sound system? Is it really so hard to just flip a goddamn switch? Is your generation seriously that busy and important, or lazy, that using even a remote control is toomuch trouble these days? What type of idiot wants to have TVs and stuff blaring when they walk into a room? When did silence become something everyone tries to avoid? Who knew we would be living in such a stupid time in history.
All right, I accept your apology. Not cutting off my nose to spite my face here – I wouldn’t want to stop the Rice Krispie train.
Hannah couldn’t help but laugh. Apology? She’d gone out of her waynotto apologize. This guy really was an out-and-out contrarian and reminded hersomuch of her granddad. A former Irish army man who brooked no nonsense and, now that she thought about it, was probably the one who’d primed her expertise in dealing with … difficult personalities. Tucking into her breakfast of oatmeal and blueberries, she pushed the note to the side and turned her attention to her phone, the screen listing a slew of incoming alerts; one of them a message from none other than Ward McKenzie.
Aha.
She was curious to know if he had spent the previous evening stewing over her insinuation that he was vapid and fake, or if he had come to his senses and realized he might indeed have a conundrum on his hands – one she could play a key role in solving if he would only play nice.
Yeah, I’m a comic book. But I take your point that I’ve been parading around as a graphic novel for a while, OK?
Then a follow-up message:You pick a place this time and I’ll be there.
Hannah smiled. Quietly confident that the hockey player would come around, she’d spent some time last night reading up on the game and its fun but mystifying lingo, readying herself for checkmate.
Or as Ward would surely say,slap shot.
Chapter 23
WARD
Aweek or so later, Hannah looked around McKenzie’s place in Lower Manhattan with some surprise. She wasn’t sure what she’d been anticipating, but it hadn’t been a cramped one-bed furnished with stuff that looked like it came from the local Goodwill.
‘Not what you expected, I take it?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘I came here expecting to see some shiny interior-designed bachelor pad aimed at proving that you were a man of taste and means. Instead, I just see what looks like any other ordinary city shoebox.’
‘Spoils the narrative already?’ he teased, unable to keep some of the sarcasm out of his voice. ‘Relax, this is my old place, the only apartment I could afford when I first moved here and signed for the Panthers. I’ve got a couple of other rentals in the city too. Believe it or not, I’m pretty decent at real estate investment.’
He hardly ever came back here though – it was more of a crash pad for whenever he was out with Johnny, or somewhere for his mom to stay the few times she’d come to visit. There were some good memories here – but there were some bad ones, too.
In this space, he reverted to the hopeful rookie he was – before success came along and everything changed so fast it was as if he was caught up in a dream.
The place was minimally decorated but comfortably furnished with chairs, a couch and a basic bedroom set that was simple and functional. Once upon a time, that was the kind of person Ward was too; simple and functional.
Things changed, though. People changed. He had definitely changed. There were times when he’d find himself looking in the mirror and wondering who in the hell the stranger looking back at him was. He wished things could be simple again – that he could be the guy he’d once been (minus the money problems obviously). That wasn’t how the world worked, though. No rewinding life back to where you’d been happiest. All you could do was look to the future and hope some was waiting for you there, too.
Today Hannah’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she had on a sunshine-yellow blouse and jeans. Her white trainers were the kind anyone could buy in their local Walmart but for some reason, on her, they looked expensive. She had a way, he realized, of bringing out the best in everything around her.
Today he’d even arrived early for their meeting. It hadn’t been on purpose, though he couldn’t help but feel it was a better look than what he had offered her before – showing up late or drunk. He had even taken the time to shave.
