9. Christopher
“Did I do good?” Rain asks as we get off the ice. The doors to the Zamboni open for it to take the ice, and I see a couple of kids waiting to get on the ice. “I didn’t fall a lot,” she says, proud of herself.
“You didn’t,” I agree with her. “You were born to skate,” I mumble as I help Luna step up to go to the changing rooms.
“Me too?” Luna asks as she walks to where Koda sits.
“You too,” I answer her.
“Mommy, I was born to skate,” Luna repeats to her as she smiles at her. She sat behind the bench the whole time while we were on the ice. It took Luna about twenty minutes before she felt confident enough to release the metal bar. Then she fell four times in a row and took it back, but Rain got better every single time she got back up.
“I know,” she says, getting up, “the both of you did so good.”
“Next time, you could come with us,” Luna invites as we walk toward the changing room.
“Umm,” Koda hesitates, “I don’t know.”
“Can we come back,” Rain asks when she takes off her helmet, “tomorrow?”
“Whenever your mom says it’s okay.” I throw it back to Koda, who stares at me, and it looks a little like a glare.
“Let’s check our schedule,” she deflects before she squats down in front of Luna, helping her untie her skates. Rain already has hers off and is drinking the Gatorade I got them as soon as I got into the rink.
We walk out of the rink with me holding the bags while Koda holds the girls’ hands. When she called me on the phone and asked where to take the girls skating, I knew exactly where to take them. I called up Guy, who owns the place, and he said to come right in, but I would have to leave by seven because the ice was rented. It’s the same arena I train at in the summer with my family. “Buckle in,” Koda states while I put the bags in the trunk. I slam the trunk at the same time as she closes the back door. We head back to her house, and Luna is practically sleeping by the time I unbuckle her.
“In the bath and then bed,” Koda says to her, and she just mumbles as she walks into the house, heading for the stairs. “Say thank you to Uncle Christopher.”
“Thank you, Uncle Chrissy,” Luna mumbles, not even looking over her shoulder as she holds the railing to the stairs, lifting the other hand to say goodbye.
“Thank you, Uncle Christopher,” Rain says to me, hugging me around the waist. I bend to kiss the top of her head before she skips off.
“Thank you again,” Koda adds, and I nod to her and walk out the door. I wait an hour before I text her to see if she’s up.
Me: Hey, are you up? I want to ask you something.
Koda: No.
I laugh at her dry humor, and instead of texting her, I call her. I don’t even know if she will answer me, and I’m more than a little surprised when she does. “Wow, she answers.”
“But did I?” She laughs, and I can hear the television in the background playing from her end, and I wonder if she’s watching another Sandra Bullock movie. “Maybe it’s your imagination.”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m not going to question it.” I get up and make my way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “What do you think about putting Rain in hockey classes?”
“What?”
“Like, signing her up to be on a hockey team.” I walk out of the kitchen, turning off the lights and heading to my bedroom. “She’s really, really good, and she likes it.”
“You don’t think maybe she should do figure skating?”
“Wow, sexist much?” I put the glass of water down on the bedside table. “I have nieces who play hockey and are better than some of the guys.”
“Yeah, but—” she says. “I don’t know.”
“I can ask a couple of the guys,” I suggest. “Maybe call Guy and ask about a house league.”
“The only problem with that is, what about Luna?”
“Put her in also,” I quickly add. “It’ll do them good.”
“They’re already in gymnastics,” she counters, “and piano. I would have to see the schedule.”
“Piano?” I ask.
“Yeah, they started this summer. I needed something to keep them busy, you know, after all the Benji stuff, and piano it was.”
“How do they like it?” I ask, suddenly wanting to know all the details.
“I mean, it was rough at the beginning when they would practice at the same time.” She laughs. “But it’s getting a bit better.”
“How was the meeting?” I close my eyes, hoping she doesn’t shut down on me. I know I should just wait for her to tell me more instead of me just jumping in and asking her.
“It was different,” she states. “We sat around and told stories about how our lives were affected by drugs.”
“Did it help?”
“Yes and no.” She exhales. “Like, I was happy to hear I wasn’t the only one. But then I kind of felt jealous of the ones who still had their loved one there so they can try to help them.”
“I know it goes without saying,” I start softly, “but I never thought it was that bad.” She doesn’t say anything. “I knew something had to be done, but…” Neither of us says anything.
“Let me know about the skating and stuff, and I can decide,” she says after three minutes of us sitting on the phone in silence.
“Will do,” I confirm, hanging up the phone before I fuck up and say something else to her.
I pull up my uncle’s number and put it on speakerphone. “This is a late-night phone call,” he answers.
“Yeah, sorry, I took Luna and Rain skating,” I word vomit. “What do you think of me attending meetings?”
“I mean, nothing wrong with going to meetings and talking.” His voice is always so soft. “What brought this on?”
I could tell him about Koda, but I don’t want to take what she told me and tell someone. It’s hers, and she shared it with me, and I’m going to keep it close to my chest. “Just something I read online,” I lie.
“I can see if there are meetings near you. Ask around.”
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
“Anytime, kiddo. Go to sleep. You have a game tomorrow night.”
“Got it.” I laugh and hang up on him, and then I text Guy.
Me: Hey, do you have any information about skating for a six-year-old and a four-year-old?
I’m about to put the phone away when there is a beep, and I look down and see that it’s Keely.
Keely: Hey ;) just checking to see if we are still on for coffee tomorrow. My day is open, so just let me know.
I close my eyes and think about canceling it, but then I’ll just have to make it another day. I might as well go and get it over with.
Me: Sorry, forgot I have work tomorrow night. But I can do coffee at around ten.
“Please say no,” I tell my phone when I see the three dots come up. “Please say no,” I chant again. “Fuck,” I swear when I see her response.
Keely: That works for me. Where do you want to meet?
“Nowhere,” I say while my fingers type out a little coffee shop about twenty minutes away.
Keely: See you then. Have a good night, Christopher.
I’m about to toss my phone to the side when another text comes in, and this time it’s from Guy.
“People are just on the ball tonight,” I mumble as I read his text.
Guy: There is a local team called Pirates. The good news is they are just starting up for the season. Spoke to my contact over there, he’s waiting for your call. Let me know if you need anything else. Richard 878-355-2398
Me: Thanks, man, appreciate it.
Only after I send the text do I put my phone away before going to take a shower. I get up the next day, my head feeling all over the place. I get dressed in my light gray pants and a long-sleeved waffle shirt. I grab the black Tom Ford belt before putting on my white sneakers and heading out the door.
I put the address in the GPS even though I know where it is. It’s a force of habit, plus it tells me if there is traffic, and the one thing I can’t do is traffic. I mean me and a million other people.
As soon as I pull out of the driveway, I hit up the number that Guy sent me. I’m expecting to be leaving a voicemail, but the man answers after three rings. “Richard Sithal.”
“Hi, Richard, my name is Christopher. I got your number from Guy at Locker Room Ice.” I tap the steering wheel. “I was looking to get my girls into a hockey camp or skating, whichever one you have.” The way “my girls” slips out and I don’t correct myself is something I have to think about later.
“Hey, Christopher,” he says, “how old are the girls?” The conversation lasts five minutes, and he gives me the information about an open skating this Saturday morning at eight o’clock at Guy’s arena. After I hang up the phone with him, I immediately call Dakota.
She answers after five rings and sounds out of breath. “Hey.”
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“I’m cutting the grass and planting a tree,” she pants. “What’s up?”
“Don’t you have a lawn service?” I pull into the parking lot of the coffee shop.
“Yeah, but I canceled it.” Her breathing sounds like it’s getting more controlled. “Is that what you called me for?”
“No,” I say, but then a million questions are coming to my head, like why the fuck isn’t someone cutting her grass? And what kind of tree is she planting and why? Instead, I look over and see the girl I’m supposed to be meeting. “I’m calling because I want to know if the kids have hockey gear.”
“They did,” she says, “but that was last year. Why?”
“I found a skating class for them to try out this Saturday morning at eight o’clock,” I tell her. “The guy said to bring them in and see if they like it. But they have to be dressed.” Keely lifts her hand from beside my truck. “Can you send me their sizes, and I’ll get them stuff?”
“Don’t buy anything yet,” she snaps. “Let me see what fits and what doesn’t, and I’ll go from there.”
“Okay,” I agree, trying to prolong the conversation but knowing I have to get off the phone. “I have to go.” I look down. “Later.”
She doesn’t bother answering me. Instead, she just hangs up. I exhale before I turn off the truck and open the door. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to block out the conversation I just had. “Hi.” I walk to her and extend my hand while she goes in for a kiss on the cheek. “Oh.” I try to go left and right while she laughs. “Sorry,” I say.
“No worries.” She laughs it off, and her brown eyes light up. “It’s nice to see you.”
“Yeah,” I say, “shall we go inside?” I hold out my hand for her to walk in front of me. She looks over at me, and the only thing I can think of is how long before I can leave without her thinking I’m an asshole.
I wish I could say the rest of the date went well. It didn’t. Keely tried to ask me questions, but my answers were one word. I would counter, ask the same questions and just nod, not putting in a word more. Let’s just say when we left there, I wanted to kick my own ass. Luckily for me, I don’t have time to dwell on it because there’s a preseason game tonight.
We end up winning three to one, but it doesn’t count, so no one cares. When I get home, I look at my texts to see if Koda texted me, but obviously, she didn’t. The only one who texted me is Keely.
Keely: Thank you for today. It was so much fun.
My eyebrows pinch together because it was not fun. Nothing about it was fun. It was like getting a root canal over and over again. Or watching wet paint dry.
Keely: Hope we can do it again.
She ends it with a smiley face, and instead of just saying yeah, that sounds good, let me check my schedule, my head has other ideas.
Me: Yeah, that sounds great. If you aren’t busy in two weeks, how about you join me for the first game of the season?
I press send before I even think about what a stupid, stupid mistake it is. I look down and my hands shake because I did not want to do that. And now there isn’t anything I can say that won’t make me look like a complete and ultimate asshole. A text comes in before I can do anything and think of an excuse.
Keely: Oh my goodness, I would love that.
“What the actual fuck are you doing?” I ask myself, looking down at the phone, closing the chat before I do something else that is totally fucked up and not right.
I pull up a thread with my cousin Zoey, who is more like my sister. I go to her when I don’t want my sisters to know anything or catch on to things.
Me: Question.
I wait for her to answer my text, knowing she always, and I mean always, has her phone on her. She’s a PR guru, so she always waits for one of her clients to get into a scandal. Sadly, they’ve never had the chance, and she is always left waiting.
Zoey: I probably have an answer.
Me: If I have coffee with a girl and it’s like the worst time, and then I ask her out again, is she going to think it’s a date-date?
Zoey: If you had the worst time, why invite her out again?
Me: Because.
Zoey: That’s a solid response.
Me: I don’t know, I felt bad she thought it was the best time ever.
Zoey: Wow, good thing she didn’t declare her love for you or you’d be having her baby.
I snort out laughing.
Me: It’s a great thing, or I’d probably ask her to marry me.
Zoey: But seriously, did you ask her out again?
Me: I did.
Zoey: Why would you waste her time like that?
Me: If I knew, I wouldn’t have texted you with the question, now would I?
Zoey: Well, you can always cancel.
Me: Then won’t I be an asshole?
Zoey: You are taking her out on a date you don’t want to go on.
Me: But at least I’m not canceling.
Zoey: Yes, that’s much better than you not wanting to be there with her.
Me: Ugh.
Zoey: If you don’t want to be an asshole, go on the date, but then you have to tell her you aren’t looking for anything more than a friend.
Me: That is going to make me even more of an asshole.
Zoey: The minute you asked her out on a second date, you became an asshole. This is just you being less of an asshole. You’re welcome.
Me: Fine. I’ll do what you said.
Zoey: Good man, still an asshole, but good man.
I can’t help but laugh at her.
Me: Good talk.
I toss my phone to the other side of the bed before I rub my hands over my face. “You are an asshole.”