Page 19 of Puck Me Back to Life

I quickly try to fix myself. “I'm gonna watch it later tonight.”

A lie. The truth is that I avoid watching my own games whenever possible. Watching hockey means seeing replays and the last replay I watched ended with blood on the ice. The one everybody remembers.

“That hit was nasty. Are you sure you're okay?”

I sigh. “Yeah, promise.”

She points at me dramatically. “That Grant guy came out of absolutely nowhere.”

Despite myself, I smile slightly.

Angela shakes her head. “One second he wasn't there and the next he was beating the brakes off that dude.”

I laugh; the sound surprises me.

Apparently, it surprises Angela too because she grins triumphantly. “I watched Grant's interview after and he's fucking hot. Why don’t you ever set me up with any of your coworkers?”

I roll my eyes. “I think worrying about two hockey boys would be too much for you.”

Angela laughs. “True. Did the guy lose all his teeth?”

The question catches me off guard. “What?”

“The guy Grant punched.”

“No.”

She looks disappointed. “Oh.”

“Just one.”

“That's still pretty impressive.” Angela nods thoughtfully. “Maybe I should come to a game in person next time...”

I laugh again. “Ange, you can't prey on all my teammates.”

Then Angela suddenly gasps. “Oh my God.”

I blink. “What?”

“I forgot.” She disappears into her apartment before I can ask what she's talking about.

A second later, she reappears carrying a container wrapped in a kitchen towel.

The sight immediately makes me suspicious. “What is that?”

Angela thrusts it toward me, shimmying the box slightly. “Opening night cookies.”

I stare. Then stare some more. The container sits in my hands. Warm. Homemade. Ridiculously thoughtful. My throat tightens unexpectedly. “Angela.”

She shrugs; the gesture is almost embarrassed. “I wanted to do something nice. I know how rough…everything has been for you.”

I look down at the container. The edges of the towel are covered in tiny, stitched hockey sticks.

Of course they are. Something painful twists inside my chest. Painful because kindness still catches me off guard. Two years ago, I probably would have accepted the gift without thinking much about it.

Now it feels almost overwhelming because people don't have to be kind. Especially to me.

Yet somehow Angela always is. My eyes sting unexpectedly.