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Full Contact

Page 94

by Declan Rhodes

“Is any of it wrong?” I asked.

Heath read it again. His lips moved slightly on the part about the families. “No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s going to be on the arena speakers.” He sat back. “Nineteen thousand people hearing all that at once. It sounds like a lot.”

“We can ask the announcer to read it quietly,” I said.

He laughed. “The committee should be in it,” he said. “By name. They’re the ones who do it. I write checks and show up. Denise runs the whole thing out of her kitchen.”

“Give me the names.”

He gave me four from memory. He spelled the last one for me twice, because the volunteer who’d organized the first equipment drive had a Finnish surname and Heath didn’t want the announcer guessing. I added a sentence thanking the organizing committee and put their names in it. Then I read the new version aloud.

“Better,” he said. “Shorter’s better too.”

“I’ll take out one sentence. Pick it.”

He pointed at the line comparing him to a lighthouse. I hadn’t written it. The exchange’s committee had sent it with the nomination, and I’d kept it because I’d assumed Heath would like hearing it in Denise’s words.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Denise will understand. She’ll use it in person. No need to repeat it on a loudspeaker.”

I deleted it.

He leaned back. “Did Hog confirm?”

“Yesterday. He’s getting an aisle seat in the arena.”

“Did Pickle tell you about that? The aisle thing?”

“He told me in writing, in some detail.”

Heath smiled at his coffee. “Are Pickle and Adrian coming together? Adrian said he might have a shoot that week.”

“Pickle’s form says Friday. It doesn’t say anything else specific, not even a flight number.”

“That’s all you’ll get from Pickle in writing. Call him. He’s better on the phone.” He set the cup on the corner of my desk. “Is there somewhere we can see each other before warmups? Not on the ice. Just a room for five minutes.”

I opened the game-day schedule and found the gap between the Storm’s arrival at the arena and Heath’s. I put in a reunion, thirty minutes, location to be confirmed, and angled the monitor so he could see it before we discussed anything else.

“Thirty,” he said.

“You’re all hockey players. You’ll need it.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Now, the ice. You’ll come out through the bench door when the announcer reads your name. Denise and one other committee member will be at center with the award. You stand on the logo, shake hands, and hold up the award for the photographers for about three seconds. Then you hand it to Danny so he can put it somewhere safe while you play hockey.”

“Do I say anything?” Heath asked.

“Only if you want to.”

“I don’t want to.”

I saved the file and sent it to Leah with a note to send it to the committee by the end of the day. Heath picked up his coffee, but he didn’t stand yet.