“Very,” Danton says, looking angry. He skates up to McDaniel and points his stick at him. “Listen, you little shit. This is my house. And in my house, we don’t say shit like that.” He turns his attention to Minnesota’s captain. “Keep your rookie in line. This homophobic shit is over.”
“Damn, Cap,” I say to Danton when he returns to us. His words have me feeling incredible warmth towards him even though he has no clue as to why. But it is good to know that our captain has mine and Brandon’s backs even if he doesn’t realize it. “You know Marshal and Kennedy don’t play for us, right?”
“They don’t have to,” he says as we step off the ice and take our seats back onto the bench. “The last thing I want is to find out that one of my teammates is gay and I’ve made them feel like they have to hide because of little shits like Richie fucking McDaniel.” He pats Brandon on the shoulder. “How the fuck did you use to play with that asshole?”
Brandon shrugs again like he always seems to when McDaniel comes up. “Guys like him are what I’ve always known. It wasn’t until I came here that I learned teams could be different.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Brandon
So there is definitely more than one plus side to sweeping your opponent. First, foremost, and obviously, it’s the glory. But second, it’s a time to rest and regroup. Which I think we can all now use. Five days off after the first round would have sunk us, but now, after winning two rounds, we have the confidence to push forward even after some much-needed rest while we wait to find out who our next opponent will be.
“Who’s hungry?” Danton asks as he steps outside onto his patio carrying a tray of food that is swirling steam around him. The entire team plus everyone’s wives and girlfriends are at his house for a team dinner.
Vicky, as always, has made a tremendous spread. There’s the balsamic-glazed chicken breasts that Danton just placed on their large farm-style outdoor table, handmade four-finger cavatelli topped with Vicky’s signature vodka sauce, and a huge salad filled with fresh vegetables and dressed with olive oil and lemon juice, plus garlic bread, and sliced meats and cheeses.
The food looks incredible, and it complements the gorgeous night we’re having here in St. Louis. Summer is right around thecorner, and I can feel it in the air: fresh and sweet with the smell of their garden blooming. It’s a perfect night for us to celebrate winning round two.
“So who do you all want?” O’Shea asks. “Dallas or Seattle?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Danton says at the same time Ryan says, “Seattle.”
“Are you crazy?” Roysy asks. “The Squatch are the last team I want to face.” He shudders. “I hate visiting Seattle. The food sucks, and it’s filled with weirdos.”
“Okay, that’s a solid point.” Ryan laughs in his seat beside me.
“Yeah!” Clemmers says. “Give us Dallas. I want some barbecue.”
I take a bite of Vicky’s chicken and melt into my seat. “Who needs barbecue when we have Vicky?”
“Kiss-ass,” O’Shea says, ruffling my hair.
Vicky points her fork at me. “I knew I liked you.”
“Ryan,” Clemmers’ wife, Ashley, says. “You’re from Dallas. I would have thought you would want to play in your hometown.”
Ryan wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Dallas hasn’t been my home in a long time.”
“But surely you have family there that would want to come see you play,” she says.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Vicky subtly shake her head at her. She winces, then mouthssorryto Vicky.
“My family isn’t really into hockey.” Ryan shrugs.
I know he’s lying.But I also don’t know the truth. I wish he would open up to me about it.
“Are you saying they’re not the Bouchards?” O’Shea asks. He looks at me and teases, “Has Baby’s family ever missed a game?”
“Definitely not.” Ryan and I laugh together.
“I like Baby’s parents,” Ivanov says, his mouth full of food. “Nice people. They hug too much. But still nice people.”
“That’s one way to put it,” I say, and chance a glance at Vicky. She appears to have calmed down now that the conversation hasshifted to my family over Ryan’s.A misplaced tinge of jealousy hits me. Maybe Ryan has told her the full story.
Danton rises from his seat and places his hand on Vicky’s shoulder, then says, “Honestly, it doesn’t matter who we play as long as we keep kicking ass!”
The team erupts into cheers, and Vicky smiles up at her husband.
