Chapter 12 #2
“Yeah, big time puck bunny,” Dustin interjected. “What can I say, rugged men with skates and a big stick are her weakness.”
Under the table, I squeezed Dustin’s thigh, sure to communicate my ire.
“He’s exaggerating,” I smiled. “I’ve never really been big into hockey. I just coincidentally ran into him in a bar after his game at Ann Arbor and we chatted. And we’ve stayed in touch since then.”
“Well, that’s a lot different from what I remember you saying last night.
” Jackie pulled out her phone and clicked play on a certain video.
It was as though she had it queued up. My stomach dropped as she clicked play, and I watched myself kiss Dustin in the back of the limo on the ride back from Freddie’s.
Had our story changed? Was the jig up already?
“Say it, baby. Say it,” came Dustin’s voice. He was the one video-ing.
“I love being your puck bunny,” I said, and I even had bunny ears on, which I didn’t remember wearing.
How drunk was I on the ride home? And why did Freddie’s have bunny ear props?
“The funny thing about how we met in college,” I said, desperate to change the focus of the conversation, “Was the pickup line he used.”
Jackie’s eyes lit up. “Oh, pray tell.”
I smiled, took a deep breath, and put my hand on top of Dustin’s. “You remember, honey, don’t you?” I said.
“Like it was yesterday,” he nodded.
“Why don’t you tell the people, then?” I said, realizing that my arsenal of cheesy pickup lines was very doctor heavy.
“But Kit Cat, it’s so much better the way you tell the story.”
“Kit Cat. Oh, that’s adorable,” Jackie added.
“Tell us the story,” Mr. Bells said. “Now I’m curious to know more.”
I cleared my throat, and my mind went totally blank, but I kept talking.
“Well, there was this Beatles song playing at the bar, and he walked up to me and he said, ‘Are you a fan of Norwegian Wood?’ And I looked at him and I thought, ‘this guy is Norwegian and is he just propositioning me like that?’”
“I mean he’s tall, fair, and handsome,” Jackie inserted. “I’d love a proposition like that.”
She flashed Dustin a look that was much too provocative for the dinner table, but somehow it went unnoticed by everyone but me.
“So she gets this angry face,” Dustin chimes in, seeing that I’m ruffled, “And I add, ‘the song. You know, the song that’s playing right now?’ I swear, I thought she was about to slap me! Turns out, she’s a huge Beatles fan. It’s her favorite band of all time.”
I felt my insides coil. Then my worst nightmare came true.
“You don’t say!” Mr. Bells’s face lit up, which surprised me. “That really brings me back. The sixties had so much great music. Tell me, Cat, which album is your favorite?”
Dustin smiled. “Yeah, Cat, which one is your favorite? I’m really curious too.”
I dug my nails into his leg under the table.
“Oh man, that’s a tough one.” I cleared my throat.
Noticing my anxiousness, Dustin tried to help. “I think you mentioned the White Album?”
“That’s a good album, but you know, I honestly couldn’t choose one. It’s too hard. I just love them all so much.”
“That’s true! It’s tough to pick one,” Mr. Bells said. “The lyrics and the melodies are simple, yet brilliant. Bands today always try to do too much. It’s like they’re compensating for something.”
I grinned. “That’s like my husband here, he’s really into techno.”
“Oh, are you?” Jackie exclaimed. “I love techno, too. Who are your favorites?” she said, leaning forward.
Dustin bit his lip. I had to give it to him, he did a good job of appearing to be thinking really hard. “Moby’s fantastic.”
“I love Moby,” Jackie said, and I wondered if she loved Moby too, or if she was just saying that because it was Dustin who said it.
“And there’s this DJ, Girltalk. He’s quite good,” Dustin added.
“Girltalk? What a funny name for a DJ!” Jackie said. “I haven’t heard of him.”
I looked at Coach Slanch and his wife. She was staring intently at the wine in her glass, and I hoped Coach Slanch was going to do something nice for her for dragging her along.
The servants came in and cleared off the table, and to my relief, we started a new conversation about the midseason all-star break and whether it should last four days or five. I was happy to space out for a minute, and pulled a Mrs. Slanch, staring at my wine for a few moments.
I focused again when the table quieted down, and I noticed Mr. Bells holding up his glass.
“Let’s toast to a happy marriage for the LeBlancs.
I have to say, Dustin, when I first saw the video that Jackie brought to my attention, I thought this was some sort of publicity stunt, or a cry for attention, like your New Year’s escapades.
But I can see Catarina is cut from a different cloth.
She’s classy. And maybe I was quick to judge you two.
I can already sense a change coming from you.
Let’s hope it translates over to the ice. Here here!”
We all clinked our glasses together, and I got smiles and eye contact from everyone—everyone except Jackie Bells.
I wondered what she was thinking as we locked eyes. Though I filled mine with kindness, hers seemed filled with anger.
I didn’t quite know what to make of it.
After dessert, I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and on my way back, a room caught my eye.
I saw a picture of a young Mr. Bells, standing next to Paul McCartney, shaking hands.
Even though I thought The Beatles were overrated, I could appreciate the significance of a picture like that.
“In the sixties, I owned a music hall. We were the first place that booked Paul and John for their American tour.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I realized I’d been caught gawking and hanging out in the doorframe.
“Oh,” I remarked. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “Go on inside. I want to show you something.” Moving slowly, he stopped in front of a shelf full of vinyl records, then pulled one out. “You know, I’ve only got a few copies of this one left.”
“What is it?”
“This is from their 1968 show in Chicago. They started the set with Norwegian Wood.”
His eyes got sort of glazed over, and he went over and put it on the record player.
They sounded great live, although the screams from the audience created a slight distraction.
“It’s not often I meet someone who’s an aficionado of The Beatles like I am. And my, that story about how you and Mr. LeBlanc met is precious.”
Pangs of guilt rode my stomach, now. I waved my hand. “Oh, It’s nothing. Just an insignificant detail.”
He clenched his jaw and looked at me sternly. “There are no insignificant details,” he said. Turning the record off, he slipped it back into its casing and held it out to me.
“Wouldn’t you know, I met my wife Rita, may she rest in peace, at a Beatles concert during the same song. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. Here, take it.”
“I couldn’t,” I said. “That looks like a rare copy. I don’t think it’s my place.”
“I can see in Dustin’s eyes that he loves you.
It’s lovely to see. I’ve made up my mind that I’m not going to trade him in spite of his antics this past year.
Although Jackie has been trying to convince me to trade him, and I respect her view, I’m going to have to overrule her on this one.
Now come on, I’m old and my arm is getting tired from holding this thing out in front of me. ”
Reluctantly, I took the record from him. “Jackie’s trying to trade him?” I inquired.
“Grandfather, there you are!” Jackie’s voice made my spine tingle with worry.
“Hi dear,” he said. “Just chatting with the big Beatles fan here.”
“Of course.” She scoffed, looking at the record in my hand. “Here, let’s put that back,” she added.
“It’s a gift,” Mr. Bells explained. “I insisted.”
“Of course. Now, I think Coach Slanch had something to say to you before he leaves.” She directed him down the hall, and once he was out of earshot she shut the door and yanked the record out of my hand.
“Miss Vidal, let’s have a talk, shall we?”
“I don’t understand. Is something the matter?”
“I won’t have you taking advantage of another man like that.”
“If you’re talking about the Beatles’ album, I tried to turn him down. He insisted.”
She put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you and Dustin were trying to pull up there, but I’m up to your funny business. Something doesn’t smell right between you two.”
I focused my gaze on her. “Why do you want to trade Dustin?” I asked.
“Dustin LeBlanc is supposed to be mine. I want him. I know what’s good for him. And we’d make a fantastic power couple.”
My heart started to speed up. “I don’t understand. So that’s why you want to trade him?”
“An owner and a player on the same organization can’t be together. It’s forbidden love. Now, if he were on another team . . . it’s fair game.”
“So you traded him . . .”
“So that I could date him. Until you stepped in and muddied the waters with your hot body and your skanky Vegas charm. He always did have a weakness for . . . girls like you.”
“Girls like me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“You think I’m the one taking advantage of a man here? No no, I think you’re the one abusing your power.”
“It was my idea to draft Dustin LeBlanc out of college. Now that he’s a big star, I should be the one reaping the benefits. And the main benefit I want is him.”
“Excuse me?”
“By the way, if you repeat any of this outside this room, I’ll deny it,” she smiled.
“My plan was going smoothly until you came into the picture. And I can’t tell what he sees in you, to be honest. Besides the skank thing I mentioned.
Maybe you think I’m evil, but I’m the hero here.
Really, I’m looking out for him. He might be hard on the outside, but underneath the surface of the fighting and smirking, he’s a gentle man. ”
I stepped forward. “You ever think maybe you’re totally wrong about him? Maybe the reason he likes me is because I’m smart and talented and care about people?”
She shook her head. “That’s just not what he likes. Trust me. I know very well what he likes.”
There was a stern knock on the door.
“Remember,” she added. “This conversation never happened.” She opened the door.
“Oh, Dustin! Lovely to see you. We were just discussing music.”
“Oh man, Mr. Bells said he really loved talking music in here with Cat, and he gave you a special live album with Norwegian Wood?”
Jackie batted her eyes. “Such a funny pickup line, with a man with such a French name, LeBlanc,” she said in a faux-French accent.
“My mom’s side is the Norwegian one,” he said, then squinted. “Where’s the album? Do you have it?”
“It’s right here.” I grabbed it off the shelf, and as I walked out, I smiled genuinely at Jackie. I recalled the motto my Grandmother had once told me, and it had always stuck with me.
Kill ‘em with kindness.
After Dustin and I said our goodbyes to the rest of the party and left, I wondered whether or not I should tell him about my little spat with Jackie. The problem was that if he decided to confront Jackie, she would deny everything.
Dustin seemed especially fumed up on the way back to his apartment, so I decided I would just keep that between Jackie and me. I didn’t need him getting in his own way. Besides, I could handle it.
“You okay?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m not.”