17. Lisa #2
“Amazing!” Benji cheers as one of his kids sends the ball flying towards the net. Though, I’m pretty sure it’s the wrong net.
There’s a scramble as one of his kids works to fish it out of the net. One of Grant’s kids swats at the ball, but gets her feet instead. The kid falls to the ground, and her face immediately crumples. I take a few steps forward, knowing what’s about to happen.
The girl lets out a wail, and the game comes to a halt. A dad leaves the crowd, coming to get what I presume is his child as she begins crying, crocodile tears springing from her eyes and tumbling down her cheeks. Benji is at her side in an instant, crouching low to talk to her.
“Hey, hey,” he murmurs. “What’s your name?”
The girl’s lip trembles, but she answers him. “Emma.”
“Emma. That’s a nice name.” He smiles. “Can you tell me where it hurts, Emma?”
The girl sniffs, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and points at her leg.
I shift to get a better look, my heart in my throat.
If it’s bad, not only is this poor girl going to be traumatized, but this event could be ruined, and by extension, Punchline could be done for.
I exhale as I see a light pink mark on Emma’s ankle.
The poor girl might have a bruise, but thankfully, it doesn’t look too bad.
“Ouch.” Benji purses his lips. “We’ll get some ice for that.”
I see Paul nod and slip through the crowd, already on his way to get the ice. As he does, the girl’s dad gathers her in his arms and lifts her from the ground. Benji rises alongside them and gives the girl a smile. “You know what we do when someone gets hurt on the ice?”
The girl shakes her head, and Benji continues. “Well, first, we make sure they’re okay. And if they’re okay, we bang our sticks on the ground to let them know how brave they are. Are you okay, Emma?”
Emma wipes at her tears, composing herself, and nods. Benji nods back, then turns to the rest of the kids and raises his stick. “She’s okay! So, does everyone agree that Emma is brave?”
There’s a chorus of agreement, and Benji bangs his stick on the ground, grinning proudly at Emma. Grant follows suit, banging enthusiastically, and soon everyone is slamming their sticks on the ground in a round of applause for Emma.
Paul returns with the ice, which the dad takes gratefully, and by the time the noise dies down, Emma looks back to normal, aside from the redness of her eyes. Benji grins and extends his fist, which she bumps excitedly.
There’s murmuring throughout the crowd as everyone coos over the moment. “He’s a wonderful person,” someone says off to my side. “Such a shame, what happened last year.”
Wait – what?
By the time I turn to ask the person to elaborate, the crowd is on the move again, shifting forward to get their chance to talk to the wonderful Benjamin Estes.
It takes another thirty minutes to shut down the remaining activities, then all that’s left is the silent auction.
People have five more minutes to get their bids in, and I’m sipping on my drink, keeping a close eye on the photograph of the lake, ready to swoop in if anyone adds a bid on top of my most recent one.
Andi, Bella and I have formed a small group with the hockey players, who are getting a momentary reprieve from their autographing and polite chatter with the crowd.
“Tell me,” I say. “Do you all understand the hype behind a pickle beer?”
“Me? Of course.” Benji grins. “It’s practically a midwestern mimosa. But if I had a choice, I’d put olives in my beer over pickles.”
I gag. “What’s wrong with beer the way it’s meant to be?”
“I couldn’t agree more, Lisa,” Grant says. “But maybe that’s just because we’re from normal states. The cold isolation makes them weird here.”
Benji and Andi swat his shoulders in tandem, and Bella laughs, though she’s currently too shy to voice her opinion on the matter. I would guess as a native Minnesotan, she’s probably on the pro-pickle-beer train.
Nils sips on his drink, contemplating. “Oh, that’s nothing. In Sweden, we put raw eggs in our beer.”
“Seriously?” Benji gapes at him, and he grins back.
“No. But I love how you will believe anything about Sweden.”
Benji chuckles good-naturedly and rolls his eyes.
I spot someone adding a bid to the photograph and excuse myself, slipping in to solidify my win.
As I scan the other silent auction sheets, I’m happy to see that Paul will get a sizable chunk of change to sustain him through the end of the year.
I can only hope the massive turnout today leads to more memberships as well.
When I return to the group, Andi is bouncing again, her curls still as voluminous as they were hours ago. I make a mental note to find out what hairspray she uses.
“Lisa! Lisa! Bella already shut me down, so please tell me you’re not busy next weekend,” she begs.
My gaze slides from her to Bella to the guys, trying to see what’s brewing here. Their faces are the picture of innocence, giving nothing away. “I’m supposed to work at Wunderbar, but I could ask Julia for a shift change,” I say slowly. “Why? What’s up?”
“The guys just mentioned that their fall bye week lines up with the opening weekend at their favorite ski resort in Colorado.” Andi claps. “It’s next week. They’re planning a trip there, and we’re invited!”
My stomach bottoms out. Leaving, when I was just starting to feel comfortable here? Traveling out of the state? With a bunch of guys, most of whom I barely know? “Sounds expensive,” I hedge.
“That’s the best part.” Andi looks like she’s about to explode from excitement. “I guess their teammate’s dad is a pilot. He’s got his own plane, so a lot of them are going free of charge. Including us. Babes, we can’t pass this up!”
Even though her excitement is contagious, I can’t get the pit out of my gut. I try one last ditch excuse. “I can’t ski, Andi.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that.” Grant waves a hand. “You’ll have a whole slew of people ready to teach you. And if you don’t want to ski, the hot tub’s always open. That’s where a lot of the players’ partners end up, anyways.”
“And I’m sure Julia or Paul would be happy to watch Winny for you,” Andi offers, her expression now pleading.
Shit. I get the feeling that if I don’t go, she won’t go.
She needs a friend to be with, even if she wants to use part of this trip to further explore whatever she and Grant have going on.
I realize with a start that I want to keep this friendship strong more than I want to avoid this trip.
I haven’t had a friendship like this ages, and I’ll feel terrible if I deprive her of this trip.
Plus, today with this group hasn’t been awful. In fact, it’s been kind of…fun.
I sigh. “Okay, okay. Yes! Count me in.” Andi shrieks happily, and I hold a hand up. “But if you leave me on the mountain, I swear to god, I’ll cut up all your best underwear.”
She crosses her heart. “Ride or die, babes. I’ve got you.”
A mic turns on, and we go quiet as Paul clears his throat and begins announcing the silent auction winners.
Andi cheers as she wins a basket full of local wines, and Grant winks at her when he wins a similar basket with movie tickets and popcorn.
A few more lackluster items go – an oil change, a fitness package to Punchline – and then my photo is up.
I let out a small whoop as Paul calls my name, running up to claim my prize.
“You got it!” Bella cheers when I return. “Way to go!”
“I did indeed.” I beam. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”
The boys exchange knowing looks, and I narrow my eyes. “What? What did you do?”
“It’s not what we did,” Grant says, smiling. “It’s what you did. You bought Benji’s donation.”
My mouth falls open, and I turn to Benji. He smiles at me, but it’s not as smug as I would’ve expected. Instead, he looks almost shy. “You donated this?”
He nods, and when he says nothing else, Grant shoves him good-naturedly. “Not only did he donate it, he took that photo.”
I blink in surprise. “You took this?”
Again, he nods, but says nothing. Nils whistles. “Damn, dude. If the whole hockey thing doesn’t work out, maybe you can be a photographer.”
“No kidding,” Andi puts in. “No wonder Lisa loves it. It’s amazing.”
I gaze down at the framed picture, refusing to meet the eyes of the photographer. I do love it. And I hate it, too.
I hate that I love everything I’ve learned today about the wonderful Benjamin Estes.