Chapter 33
STELLA
Friday night, I’ve just turned on the TV to watch the Orcas play in San Francisco when my doorbell rings.
Of course my heart leaps at the thought that it could be Jayden, which is ridiculous because I know he’s in San Francisco.
And also I know he’s… angry. Or hurt. It was like that at the park earlier when I took Betty for her walk; I kept thinking maybe I’d run into Jayden and Frank.
I peer out the small window and see a delivery person. Frowning, I open the door cautiously.
“Stella Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“Here you go.” He hands me a paper bag.
“Uh, thanks.”
I close the door and take the bag into the living room as the national anthem is sung at the game. The camera pans along the bench and there’s Jayden. My heart bumps.
Sitting on the couch, I open the bag and pull out a small, flat box. Through the clear lid, I see dog treats: pretty ones with pink and yellow icing, shaped like dog bones and paw prints. I stare at them, my mind blank.
Betty is right in front of me, sniffing. She knows they’re for her.
“Someone sent you dog treats,” I tell her. “Look.” I show her the box. “Do you want one?”
Who sent them, though? My head feels like it’s full of dryer lint. I give it a shake.
I quickly check the ingredients, just to be safe, then open the box and hand a pink treat to Betty. She gently takes it and goes over to the corner to eat it with noisy crunches.
There’s only one person who would send Betty treats. I think. There’s nothing on the parcel to identify who it’s from. My heart throbs in my chest and I clutch the box of treats, watching Betty.
I don’t know what to do about this.
I watch the rest of the game.
On Saturday night, I’m again watching the game, curled on my couch in my pajamas. Gracie wanted to go to the Christmas market at Jack Poole Plaza tonight, but I am not in a Christmas mood. I’m in a grumpy mood.
“Please just let me wallow for a bit,” I asked her. “I’ll go to the market with you another time.”
Tonight, the game’s in Los Angeles. The first period has just ended, with the score tied at one-one, when my doorbell rings again.
What the…?
I drag myself off the couch, untwisting the soft blanket from around me, and go to the door. Another delivery.
I take the bag handed to me and close the door. What now?
Half-expecting something doggy, my eyes widen when I see a big bag of potato chips. I pull it out. Miss Vickie’s Spicy Dill Pickle.
I freakin’ love these chips.
Who is sending this stuff?
Oh… there’s a note.
If you’re wondering if I’m thinking of you, the answer is yes.
Hope blossoms inside me. It has to be Jayden.
I grab my phone from the coffee table and, with trembling fingers, send a swift text to Gracie.
Stella
Are you sending Betty and me snacks?
She doesn’t reply. Shit. Maybe she went to the Christmas market with her sister or her mom.
I huff out a sigh and wrap myself up in my blanket again, with the chips. These chips are kettle cooked and so crunchy, and the dill pickle flavour is tongue-tingling. I remember the night Jayden brought a bag of these over and we ate them in bed after… well, you know.
Did he send me these? And the dog cookies? Is he really thinking of me?
Okay, speaking of Jayden… he’s on the ice.
I think I see a difference in his play. He’s trying to be more effective in front of the net, and I think he’s doing better at clearing the crease and winning battles for rebounds.
He’s using his lower body to push against opponents.
Especially now he’s been working on his lower body strength.
And he’s blocking shots. I wince when he does that, remembering his hurt foot.
A strange feeling of pride rises in my chest and I smile a goofy smile at the TV.
My phone chimes. A text from Gracie.
Gracie
Sending you snacks? Why? Do you need snacks?
Stella
No. Never mind.
I crunch on a chip as I watch the game. The first period is almost over and we’re already down two goals. Then LG gets the puck on a long pass from Jayden and has a breakaway.
“Yes!”
I watch eagerly. An LA player is right on LG. Can he stop him? Maybe this is a goal!
LG shoots… but the goalie makes the stop.
Damn.
But as LG coasts into the corner, that LA player is still right on him and checks him hard into the boards. LG crumples to the ice.
“What the fuck!” I yell at my TV. “That was a late hit! The whistle already went.”
LG is writhing, then struggles to get to hands and knees, head down.
A couple of Orcas players arrive to look after LG. The camera pulls back. And there’s Jayden going at the LA player, immediately challenging him for his hit on LG.
The gloves fly off and Jayden loses his helmet. The crowd is roaring, cheering on their player. I drop my bag of chips and cover my mouth with both hands and I stare wide-eyed at the TV.
Betty whines.
Jayden finally takes the guy down to the ice and the linesmen jump in to separate them.
LG is still down on the ice, a trainer now crouched beside him.
I press my fingers to my mouth.
The camera zooms in on Jayden’s face. His helmet is off, his hair hangs over his forehead, and sweat rolls down his tight jaw. He swipes at a gash on his forehead that’s bleeding.
“Oh no…” My stomach sinks.
Jayden leaves the ice and LG is finally on his feet, being helped by a couple of teammates, and he follows Jayden off.
Shit.
The LA player gets a two-minute minor, five-minute fighting major and ten-minute misconduct. Jayden gets a two-minute instigator minor, five-minute fighting major and ten-minute misconduct. LG is out for concussion protocol.
I let out a long sigh and sink back into the cushions of my couch. How is this going to affect the team? They’re down by two.
But as I watch, they step up their game.
When they come back from the second period, Jayden is back, although in the box at first, with stitches in his forehead, but the defence is really hemming LA in their zone.
And the Orcas fourth line is revved up. Moosetail lays a couple of hard hits and by the end of the second period, it’s tied two all.
In a nail-biter at the end of the third, Finn scores to win the game for them, his second of the night.
I’m not happy Jayden’s hurt but he looked like he was fine and he was playing great. And they won. And I’m once more ridiculously proud of him for stepping up for a teammate.
I have to talk to him. I don’t know when they’re getting back from this trip. It could be late tonight, or tomorrow. I have to figure it out.