Chapter 25 Tristan
TRISTAN
I bite the bullet and send the strangest group text in the history of Mavericks hockey.
Me: Hey guys. Merry Christmas. Hope everyone is enjoying the break. I hate to do this on short notice but all the stores are closed. I have a big ask. Does anyone have a large gift bow lying around?
Ping-ping-ping, my phone goes, replies flooding in instantaneously.
Gordon: How big are we talking? Like festive shoebox? Or “here’s your surprise tractor” big.
Lance: Merry Christmas to you too. Let me check the garage.
Or you could come for dinner tonight and check yourself.
We’re doing ham and a ton of sides. And Jeremy’s bringing Guatemalan food.
Jeremy: I am?
Connor: Don’t even joke about that, Jeremy. I’m dying for empanadas. Are we wrapping a puppy or a person?
Sergei: Are you buying someone a horse? Americans are so weird with their farm animals.
Gordon: Sergei, you’re the one who made it weird. Is this a sexy bow situation?
Me: Not sexy. Definitely not sexy. Just regular gift energy.
Jeremy: The fact you felt the need to clarify makes it 100% more than regular gift energy.
Sean: My cousin bought a bunch of bows for their engagement party. She even had an arch made of helium balloons and a smoke machine.
Lance: You need balloons too? I’ve got loads of those. I also have a bubble machine.
Me: No balloons or bubbles. Wait, why do you have a bubble machine? Actually it doesn’t matter. Sean does your cousin still have those bows?
Sean: Yeah, but they’re in Wisconsin.
Gordon: Are you giving someone a car? Because car commercials are the only time I’ve seen giant bows. And in my dreams.
Jeremy: IS IT A CAR?
Sergei: What color?
Me: The SUV is black. Bow can be any color. Can you guys help or not?
Lance: That’s peak Hallmark, right there.
Jeremy: I love Christmas Hallmark movies. They need to turn more of them into musicals.
Gordon: I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.
Me: We’re not dating exactly. She knows I’m bringing her something but has no idea what.
Connor: brO! That’s not a gift that’s a grand fucking gesture.
Jeremy: That’s foreplay with paperwork.
Me: Please stop.
Sean: In the arena, I think there’s a bow from when they had the All-Star games. It’s blue and the size of a toddler.
Me: Do you know exactly where in the arena?
Sergei: I’ve seen it. It’s at the arena garage where the ice resurfacer is parked.
Me: Thanks guys I owe you.
Lance: You owe us a picture.
Jeremy: Of the car and the girl.
Me: I’m muting this chat.
Gordon: You say that but you’ll be back.
Lance: See you guys tonight. You’re welcome to swing by to bring your girl and her new car if you change your mind, Tristan.
Sean: The empanadas are to die for.
Lance: And what’s my ham? Chopped liver?
I cackle out loud at the chaos. My phone is still buzzing in my hand, the screen lighting up with “Oh my god” surprise GIFs and horrific memes featuring bow ribbons. Not sure what I thought would happen when I lobbed a last-minute request into the players’ group chat, but this wasn’t it.
This team? They’re a little unhinged. Loud.
Ridiculous. They weaponize emojis. But they show up and rally for each other.
Even when the request is unexpected and vaguely weird, they don’t let it drop.
It’s not the kind of team dynamic I’m used to being on the inside of.
And somehow, even though I only asked for a bow, I end up feeling like I’m part of the group.
Which, honestly, is its own unexpected gift.
Not sure what comes over me. I drop one last text.
Me: I’m going to be a father. The mother of my twins needs a new ride. Thanks for helping out today. Merry Christmas, guys.
It doesn’t take a genius to know that the thread is about to blow up. I mute it after checking the time. It’s ten thirty in the morning, which means I’ve got to hustle to wash the SUV, grab the gift ribbon, and drive to Centerstone.
Ligaya said she’d refuse anything new, which is why I’m giving her the SUV I bought last summer. After all, we’re having twin babies in June. This vehicle is the very least I can give them.
I go through a car wash, zip by the arena, and drive to Ligaya’s townhouse with a bow that takes up the entire back seat.