Noel rolls his eyes."Dad, you're in better shape than half the department.Bet you could still ace the CPAT in full gear."
I cackle."Oh god, son—fuckno.In station wear,maybe.Full gear?"I glance up and away, considering.“I’d need to work up to that.I've been behind the desk for a while now, son.I keep in shape, but not like I used to be."
He actually grins."You're just embarrassed because Stan Hibbard broke your ankles on that second-period breakaway last year.”
I glare at him."Stan Hibbard didn't break shit,” I shoot back."Lon Donahue tripped me with his stick."
Noel snorts.“Okay, buddy.Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night."He grins at me again."Stan's got speed, though.Itwasa nice breakaway."
"Stan's always been fast," I answer."I remember the first time I saw him hit the ice.Skinny little kid skated circles around everyone else."
"He ain't so skinny anymore," Noel quips.“Too many donuts."
"Stan's poison of choice is actually apple pie from Mabel's."That being our town bakery, the owner, Mabel, can work confectionery miracles, chief among them being her apple pie.
Noel rolls his eyes."Way to miss the joke, Pops."
This gets a grin from me—he hasn't called me Pops since he was in high school."Have youhada slice from Mabel’s?She opened up after you moved to Seattle, and I don’t think I’ve seen you eat anything sweeter than a bagel since you’ve been back.”
Noel shrugs."I haven't, actually.Guess I kinda lost my taste for sweets at some point.”
"Been out of professional sports for three years, son.I think you can indulge in a slice of apple pie."I reach for my phone, which is buzzing with an incoming text—I check it and set it back down; it's just Jim sending me a…whaddya call it?A meme.He's obsessed, the dingus.Blows up my phone all damn day with shit he thinks is funny—usually just dogs being goofy.
Noel rolls a shoulder."I guess.Habit is hard to break, and I've been eating the same way for so long I'm not sure I know how to stop."
"Maybe you can teach me how to eat better, and I can teach you how to eat worse," I suggest.
"Or not."
I eye the stack of paperwork I have to get through."You need somethin' or you in here just to shoot the shit with your old man?"
He shrugs."Just checkin' on you is all."
"Because I was late one time?By less than five minutes?"
"Five minutes late for you is like an hour late for everyone else.It was weird."His eyes go to my skates as he rises to his feet, stretching his massive frame."Just don't make a habit out of it," he teases.
“Yeah, yeah," I say."Hey, Noel?"
He turns his hat right way round and lifts his chin at me.“Yeah?"
"It's damn good to see you smiling again."
He nods, eyes averting from mine."I'm tryin', Dad."
"Well, keep it up.You without your sense of humor is…well, the world just ain't right."
He lets out a sigh that's not quite a laugh."I just…Mom was—"
The tones go, then, and whatever he was going to say is lost and forgotten as we mount up and race to the scene.
I sit in my truck, hesitating before going into the rink.It's been a week since that day at the rink, and I haven't seen Morgan Wheeler again.Granted, I've only made it in for one pre-dawn skate in that time, and she wasn't there.
I've had her on my mind on and off since that day, though, which is tripping me up.I was with Taylor my whole adult life.I never eventhoughtabout another woman in all that time.I mean, I'm a heterosexual man with working eyeballs and a hard-charging libido, so yes, I notice the attractive women of the world.I can appreciate a nice butt or a good rack like any other dude, but it was always separate from any desire.It was only marginally more sexual than appreciating a beautiful sunset or noticing a sweet vintage truck.
That's been changing, lately, though, and in embarrassing and confusing ways.
For example, I was having dinner with Jim and Kathy at B-and-I the other day, and Cora, the waitress, caught my eye.Cora is 38, to my 53, new in town, and recently divorced.She's also the possessor of a hell of a fine backside, which I noticed again and again throughout dinner and post-dinner drinks.I couldn't take my eyes off the damn thing.It's not like I was about to proposition the woman; she’s fifteen years younger than me, if nothing else, and I'm absolutely not ready to start dating.But apparently, Iamready to stare at fine lady butts.
