Page 26 of Tricky Puck

She follows me into the kitchen, where I find the old percolator on the stove and the room smelling like coffee and cinnamon toast, like Grandma.

She rushes past me and beats me to the coffee, pouring me a cup, black and strong, the way I like it.

“Thank you, Grandma. You’re the standard for all women, you know. No one will live up to you.”

She cackles and shakes a finger at me like I’m a bad boy. “Maybe Delaney will. I have a good feeling.”

“I have no idea when I’ll see her again. It’ll take a while to get to know her with me up north.” I take a gulp of my coffee.

“You’ll have no trouble getting to know each other once she moves in with you.”

Coffee sprays from my mouth, mostly back into the cup. Luckily, none hit Grandma.

“Don’t rush things, Grandma,” I choke out, my need to resist the pretense gaining traction.

She pats my back and looks up at me with a patient, kind smile as if I’m a little kid having trouble with a difficult lesson.

My phone pings, and I pull it from my back pocket.

It’s another notice from the airline, this one about my flight being delayed due to storms. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath while Grandma fixes me a plate of food. I check for other flights into Manchester where I left my car, but there’s nothing that’ll get me there sooner. With this delay, it’ll make me a hell of a lot later to the arena than fifteen minutes. I check to see if I can get anything sooner into Boston. But nothing gets me to Portsmouth any earlier.

“Sit down and eat, Link.” Grandma looks at me while I scowl with the phone to my ear. “Is there a problem?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” I clear the scowl, and tension coils in my gut as I sit. She smiles. “I need to make a few calls.” She nods and leaves me, patting my cheek as she goes by me.

Taking a long breath, I dial Coach Spence’s office number—because that’s the only one I have, and I need to call someone to let them know I’ll be late. I wait while his line rings and then goes to voicemail. Shit. I call Assistant Coach Nash, both his office and cell number, but he’s not answering either. Fuck. What’s with that?

I can’t just show up three hours late, so I leave a message on Coach Spence’s answering machine and call my teammate, Jason Hall. If I had to pick one guy on the team who was my best bud, it would be him.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Stuck in New York. I missed my early flight, and now there are weather delays flying up north. I won’t be able to get there until noon or later.”

“Fuck. You’ll miss half the day.” He blows out a whistle. “Sucks to be you, man. What happened?”

“I’m in trouble—in more ways than one.” I give him the short version of Grandma fixing me up and spending the night, without giving him the details.

“You stayed overnight with a woman? Who is this chick?”

“She’s an Irish pistol from Brooklyn with as much attitude as I have and even less desire to settle down. Her name is Delaney.”

“You’re in trouble, bro.”

“I’m fine with Delaney. We’re cool. It’s Grandma I’m worried about.”

“You sure it’s not Coach Spence you’re worried about?”

“Whatever trouble I have with him will blow over after I score the first game.”

“Sure. What about this girl? How serious are you?”

“I told you—we’re not serious at all.” I heave another sigh and check to make sure Grandma is nowhere nearby. “I’m worried about Grandma because she says it’s her one wish for me to settle down before she…by Christmas. I need to be engaged by Christmas. I promised her I’d give her anything she wants for her birthday, and that’s what she wants.”

He whistles into my ear again. “Sorry about your Grandma. Are you telling me you’re going to marry this chick because she⁠—”

“No. I’m not. Grandma’s going to be fine. But I have to at least try and placate her. I don’t want her worrying about me.”

“So, what does that mean?”