it's just you
Berger
i haven't opened it since Montreal
Marchetti
Lundy it's the Cup Final. nobody's reading a chef falling in love right now
Lundy
i've got time
Davis
you've got time because you're on a stool with a brace on. that's not free time. that's an injury
Lundy
it reads the same
Thompson
big guy the only thing anybody on this team is studying this week is the forecheck
Berger
and your dad's power play
Fontenot
yeah we're a little busy game-planning your father, we'll circle back to the romance novel
Lundy
he runs it off the half wall, by the way. if anyone wants my notes
Thompson
we have nineteen hours of video on Karl Lundmark. we do not need the goalie's book club take
Lundy
chapter eleven's good though
Marchetti
nobody's on chapter eleven Lundy
Chapter 28: Soucy
Itake the paper out of my bag in the car before he has the key all the way turned.
It’s the Tuesday from the morning of Game 1. It’s been folded in my bag this whole time, soft at the creases now from getting carried to five rinks and back. Seven across never filled, because filling it meant reading it to him, and reading it to him was a thing we do. We weren’t doing the things we do. My hands aren’t steady. I make them hold the paper anyway. The paper is the only thing in this car I know how to hold onto.
"Seven across," I say.
He has the key turned. He doesn’t put the car in gear. "...what?"
