Chapter 44 Need a New Tie
Forty-Four
Need a New Tie
Beck
Here I stand naked except for a bathrobe, feet sinking into the plush carpet, as Coach Powers says, “Hey, Beck. Don’t make any dinner plans for the next eight weeks or so. After last night’s performance, I’m calling you up to travel with us as one of our Black Aces.”
Suddenly, I’m having an-out-of-body experience. I’m not even sure what I say to Coach. Hopefully, it’s a stammered thanks and a promise to work hard. But I also might have said, “Cool. Yeah. I love poker metaphors, too. Always wanted to be a grim omen of playoff injuries. Total bucket-list moment.”
Then I walk into a door. Not hard, but noticeably.
Forest, wincing, grabs me by the waist and turns me around again so I can pace the room unscathed while Coach spools out a bunch of details. They’re putting me up in a residence hotel in Boulder. I’ll be practicing with the Cougars every day and traveling with them for the duration of the playoffs.
“Which, hopefully, is all the way to the finals.” Coach Powers chuckles. “We’ve done it before.”
“Yessir,” I say, my mind whirling.
When the call ends, Forest has to remove the phone from my hand, because all I can do is stand there, openmouthed.
He slaps me on the back. “Breathe, Beck. This is fantastic, and I’m not even surprised. I wondered if last night was sort of a tryout.”
I sink into my chair and take a gulp of coffee. “They must be worried about Volkov.”
Forest nods. “Or just cautious. Makes sense that Powers would choose a goalie as a Black Ace if they’re rolling into the playoffs with, like, fewer than two healthy puck eaters.”
“So I’m like…their new favorite spare tire. I love this for me.”
Forest circles behind me, puts both hands on my shoulders, and squeezes. “You earned this. Ten bucks says you’ll start another game before the playoffs, too. If I were Powers, I’d use you for one of the last couple games.”
I take a deep breath and lean into Forest’s firm grip. “This is going to be intense. You’ll talk me down when I get rattled, right?”
Another sturdy squeeze from behind. “Yeah, I will. Promise.”
My shoulders relax by a fraction. “Good. Because I so don’t want to do this alone.”
He runs a hand through my hair. “You don’t have to. Now finish your breakfast. When do they want you in Boulder?”
“Tonight. Practice tomorrow morning, then we fly out to San Jose.”
“Got it. So what errands do you need to knock out? Equipment? Laundry? New suit?”
I look over at where my Ice Cats tie is still tied to one of the bedposts. “A suit is a good idea. And I need a tie in Cougar blue.”
He kisses me on top of the head. “Breakfast. Then a shower in that bathroom. Then Nordstrom or Suitsupply.”
I tip my head back against his sturdy body. “Not gonna lie—I need all this dad energy right now.”
“Just don’t call me daddy, and we’re good.”
Two hours later, I’ve been fitted with three new shirts, a few new ties, and a sharp navy-blue suit. The store is going to rush the tailoring and deliver it to Boulder, too.
The bill comes to…a lot. I actually tense until the credit card screen says approved. “Feels like a big splurge,” I say as the happy salesperson hands the shopping bag with my shirts and ties to Forest.
“It’s not,” he says. “You have a two-way contract, right? You’re about to earn, what, three or four grand a night for a few weeks? You need the clothes, Beck. Dress for the job you want, not the one you have.”
“Okay, yeah,” I mutter.
“Besides, you look really fuckable in that suit. Just saying.”
“You should’ve led with that.”
He chuckles and squeezes my shoulder with his free hand. “Strap in. We’ve got more errands to run. Let’s ditch one car and then I’ll drive, okay? You’ll open up the emails from Powers and read every word. Then you call your mom.”
“Okay,” I agree, happy to let him take charge. I’m at least as overwhelmed as I am excited. “I wonder how much I should pack to go with me. I only have the one suitcase.”
He bleeps the locks on his truck. “We’ll fix that too, Beck. Get in.”
A while later I look up from the email I’m reading on my phone to see that we’ve pulled into the lot of Charlie’s junior high school.
The kid himself comes running but pulls up short when he sees me. “Beck!” he screams. Then he yanks open the back door and climbs in. “I didn’t finish my math homework last night because I was too busy screaming at the TV.”
“Dude, really? And here I thought math was going well again.”
“It’s fine.” He waves a hand, dismissing the problem. “The teacher will forgive me. I told her my tutor was playing for the Cougars last night, but I’m not sure she believed me.”
“Not sure I believe it myself,” I admit. “Now they’ve called me up today to practice with them throughout the playoffs.”
Charlie’s eyes practically bulge out. “Holy…! So what are we doing right now?”
“Shopping and helping Beck pack,” Forest says. “Strap in. Next stop: Costco.”
Forest pushes the cart while I play the role of anxious wreck in the aisles of Costco and then Whole Foods.
It’s a tag-team effort—protein powder, produce, toiletries, snacks that meet Charlie’s approval.
I don’t even realize how much we’re buying until my credit card gets hot enough to melt my wallet.
Forest drives me back to Loveland so I can pack, and then he and Charlie pop out to buy us some dinner. I’m left behind with the silence of my house and the realization that I leave for Boulder in, like, an hour.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Totally normal to be thirty percent packed and one hundred percent panicking.
Apparently, Charlie sees right through me, because I overhear them in my kitchen while they’re unpacking the Mexican food they bought.
“Beck seems nervous, Dad,” he says in a voice that sounds like he’s trying to whisper. “He has that face—like a goalie trying to read the play when the puck is already in the net.”
Ouch. Accurate, but ouch.
“He’ll be fine,” Forest says in a low, comforting voice. “It’s hard to rearrange your entire life in a single day. He’ll feel better when he puts his skates on tomorrow. All that hard work and all those hours of practice will pay off.”
“Good thing he has us to help him,” Charlie says, and my heart thaws a little more.
It’s almost eight by the time we lug everything into the long-term hotel suite the Cougars set me up with.
It’s nicer than I expected—like they’re trying to make me feel fancy, even though I know this is just temporary.
There’s a shopping bag on the coffee table full of Cougars workout gear in my size. And a Cougars puffer jacket, too.
“That’s sick,” Charlie says approvingly.
“Isn’t it?” I can’t resist pulling it on and walking over to the full-length mirror. “Look, Mom. They gave me the jacket. It has to be a sign.”
Forest lets out a rumble of a laugh from the bedroom closet, where he’s hanging the new shirts and ties we bought. Then he puts groceries in the kitchenette like this is normal, like he’s just here to help and not breaking my brain with how competent and helpful he’s being.
Like a real boyfriend.
Meanwhile, Charlie is supposed to be doing homework at the coffee table, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s assembling my gaming setup instead. When I’d wondered aloud if I should bring it with me, I felt like a teenager myself.
“Yes, if it helps you relax,” Forest had said. “You’re going to be in that hotel for at least three weeks, even if the Cougars stink it up in the first round.”
“But they won’t,” Charlie had added, like it was the easiest thing in the world to believe in me.
So the console made it into the Jeep and into the hotel. Eventually the fridge is full, the gaming system is set up, and there’s no more reason for Charlie to blow off his homework for my well-being.
They’re going to leave any minute, and I’m not ready.
“Beck,” Forest says softly from the bedroom doorway.
I follow him in there and shut the door behind me. He doesn’t sit down or touch me or anything. He just gives me that look—the one where I feel like I’m under a microscope and also safe. “You good now? You need anything else?”
Gulp. “Well, no. Nothing except a good pounding.”
He laughs, low and quiet. “Soon.”
“I know. I’m not worried.” Not about that, anyway.
“What time is morning skate?” he asks.
“Team breakfast at eight. Then video. Skating at ten.”
He steps into my space and takes my face in his big hands. “You got this. You know this job. You know it here—” He taps my temple. “—and here.” Then my chest. “You just have to relax enough to let your training take over.”
“That’s what all this was about?” I gesture vaguely toward the living room and the epic grocery haul.
“Exactly. Getting you ready so you can focus on what matters.”
“You’re what matters,” I blurt, because it’s the truth, and I’m not capable of pretending otherwise right now.
“I feel the same way about you. Promise.” His hand curls around my wrist, thumb brushing my pulse. “But you need to slay some dragons before we can focus on us. I’ll be waiting, okay?”
Something knotty unwinds inside my chest. I think I needed to hear that. “I hope you know how much I appreciate everything you did today.”
His hand grazes my cheek affectionately. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yeah, you did. You showed up, and that’s all I ever needed from you.”
He smiles. “That and a good pounding.”
“Obviously.”
Then they leave, and I get ready for bed. But I’m restless, bumping around the hotel suite alone. I text Rigsy with a couple of photos of my new Cougars gear. Mostly, I’m anxious and at odds with myself, and when I lie down in bed, sleep doesn’t come. Even after I turn out the lights.
As I lie there, my phone vibrates with a text. It’s Forest.
Forest
Try to sleep.
Beck
How’d you know I wasn’t?
Just a lucky guess. This is your goodnight text.
Goodnight, hunk.
Goodnight, sweetheart.
I like that a lot. So I put my phone down and close my eyes and somehow, I fall asleep.