Chapter 15 #2
“I miss you, too. We missed you at Mom’s dinner the other week.”
“Thank you for taking my spot.”
“Any time.” There was a pause. “You know, it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to come home soon.”
“You miss me that much?”
“I do…but also, it’s Dad.”
Bash tensed. “What about him?”
“He’s working too much, and it’s not good for his health. He won’t listen to his doctors.”
Bash rubbed his face. He’d expected this. “Any updates from the doctors?”
“Just that his liver and arteries are fucked, and he doesn’t seem to care, and if he keeps working the way he does, he’ll have another heart attack. And he might not walk away from this one.”
Bash’s jaw tensed. “Is he drinking?”
“Of course.”
“Just drinking?”
“It’s not like I’ve been checking his pockets for cocaine,” Lotte snapped.
“Maybe you should.”
“I’ll pay off a maid.”
“That’s my sister.” He sighed. Another patron stepped out of the restaurant and lit a cigarette. Bash approached the patron, a middle-aged woman. “Hi,” he said. “Could I have one of those?”
She sized him up and then passed him one. He used her lighter and stuck the cigarette in his mouth. He didn’t often smoke, but he wanted the buzz of nicotine.
“Are you smoking?” Lotte asked.
Bash nodded his thanks at the woman and retreated away from her. “So what if I am?” he continued in Dutch. The woman watched him out of the corner of her eye.
“That’s bad for your lungs.”
“What? I didn’t know that.” He blew out a stream of smoke and thought for a second. “My fall break is in a couple of weeks, and then the season starts after that. I was going to stay here for break, but maybe I can come home.”
“I think you should.”
“I’ll try. I promise.”
“When is your break? I’ll buy your tickets now.”
“You don’t have to do that. I can pay for it.”
“We both have multi-million euro trusts,” Lotte deadpanned. “I can afford some airplane tickets.”
“Fine. But I’m taking you to a nice dinner in Amsterdam.”
“Of course you are. And the opera. Prince Gustav will be there one of these nights, I hear.”
Bash barked a laugh. “Are you still scheming to be Queen of the Netherlands?”
“Obviously. Next question.”
“I fully believe you can make that happen.”
“I swear Gustav was staring at me in class the other day.”
“You don’t need a meet-cute at the opera to introduce yourself to the Crown Prince.”
“Yes, but it would be so cute. When is your fall break, exactly?”
Bash rattled off the dates.
Moments later, Lotte said, “Good. Tickets are bought. I’ll email you the confirmation. So, what else is new with you, besides beating people up on the ice?”
“I don’t beat people up on the ice.”
“If you say so. Are you dating anyone?”
“No.”
“You answered that way too quickly. Who are you dating?”
“No one.”
“You are so convincing and believable right now.”
Bash and Lotte had a very close relationship.
They weren’t just siblings, but best friends.
Bash knew most things about her life (he assumed), and she knew most things about his.
She knew that he liked to frequent the more hardcore clubs in Amsterdam and Boston, and she constantly begged for an invite, though Bash repeatedly told her that neither of them wanted her to see him in that environment.
She loved him perhaps more than he loved himself, and was convinced that he would find the perfect partner.
“You sound different,” she continued.
“How on earth do I sound different?”
“Happier,” she said.
“It’s because I’m able to play hockey again.”
“No, that’s not it. That’s a competitive happiness. That’s not the tone in your voice. You seem comfortably happy.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to study therapy and psychology instead?”
“I’d be too powerful if I did that. I think you’re seeing someone, and I think you like him. Or her. Or them. If you’re not gay, you can tell me. I’m very open-minded.”
Bash glanced around. It was just him and the smoking woman. He took a deep drag of his cigarette, held the smoke inside him for a few heartbeats, and then released it. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“I sense a however coming.”
“However, I am…engaging with someone.”
“You’re…oh. Oh. That’s fun. How’d you meet him? Grindr? Sniffies? What are the other ones called?”
“I’m shocked you even knew about Sniffies.”
“I do my research. How’d you meet?”
“At school.”
“Wow, the old-fashioned way. I demand a photo.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Fine. I’ll find him myself.”
“You don’t know anything about him.”
“Has that ever stopped me before?”
She had a point. If becoming Queen of the Netherlands, or CEO of her own hedge fund, didn’t work out for Lotte, she could always go run espionage for Interpol or someone. She could find anyone online based on vibes alone.
“Honestly, I’ll be impressed if you found him.”
“I have five candidates already.”
“My god.”
“I’ll get back to you with my final analysis in an hour.”
“You do that.” Bash finished his cigarette and found an ashtray pillar on the sidewalk to dispose of it in. “Thank you for buying the plane tickets. I’ll see you soon. I’m going back into the restaurant now.”
The door to the pizza joint opened, and Adonis stepped out. “Hey,” he said. “I was starting to get worried about you.”
“Who’s that?!” Lotte screeched into the phone. “Is that him?! Oh, my god. That’s him, isn’t it?!”
“Hey,” Bash said, switching to English as he talked to Adonis. “My sister called me.”
“WHAT’S HIS NAME?!” Lotte shouted. “Put him on the phone!”
“But she has to go now,” Bash said loudly. “She was just saying goodbye. Doei, Lotte!”
Adonis leaned close to the phone. “Bye, Lotte! Nice to meet you! I’m Adonis—”
“BYE!” Bash shouted, hanging up just as he heard Lotte cackling on the other end.
“That’s nice of her to call you,” Adonis said pleasantly, oblivious of the danger he’d just inflicted on himself by giving Lotte his name. In moments, she would have access to his entire history.
“Yes, it was,” Bash said weakly.
Adonis looked carefully at him, and Bash schooled his face.
“Is everything okay?” Adonis asked.
Bash was tempted to say that yes, everything was fine.
No need to worry! He found himself wanting to tell the truth.
It wasn’t usual for him to want to be vulnerable.
“It’s my dad,” he said. “He’s sick, and he’s working too hard.
If he keeps it up, he’ll kill himself with this schedule and his habits. ”
“Oh. Bash, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, but that’s what you were supposed to say when things were bad, right?
“It doesn’t need to be okay,” Adonis said, taking a step closer.
“Thanks for coming to the scrimmage,” Bash said. “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. And Clarisse wanted to see Robbie, so I thought I’d come to support with her.”
“Oh, yeah? Just to support Robbie with Clarisse?” Bash said, a hint of teasing entering his voice. “There was no other reason you wanted to be here?”
Adonis’s face was entirely serious. “Nope. No other reason. None at all.”
“Wow. No one else you wanted to see?”
“I mean, there are lots of hot guys on the hockey team,” Adonis said. “I enjoyed seeing them.
Bash’s phone buzzed—a message from Lotte telling him that she’d put together an extensive file on Adonis and that she approved of him as a future life partner. Bash decided to ignore her; he’d explain later that “future life partner” was the last thing on his mind.
“I’m sad that Clarisse and I are driving back tonight,” Adonis said, his voice low.
Bash smiled. “Could’ve been fun to get ahead of our scheduled rendezvous, as you call them.”
Adonis sighed dramatically. “Thank god you’ve taught me patience.”
If it weren’t so public, Bash would’ve taken Adonis right here, fucking him against the wall of the restaurant.
That, however, sounded like an arrest for public fornication and indecency, which would get in the way of his NHL plans. So, he thought better of it.
“Let’s go back inside,” Bash said. “I’m still hungry.”
“How many pizzas have you eaten at this point?” Adonis asked.
“Not enough. Never enough.”