Pride and Pucks and Prejudice - 12. Chapter 12

Noah

Winger Justin Piatkovich's barbecue was held every October.

Apparently attendance wasn't technically mandatory. Apparently Coach Hayes also had a remarkable memory for who had chosen not to attend.

So. Mandatory.

Justin's house sat on the edge of a small lake about forty minutes outside Philadelphia, with a wide deck overlooking a lawn running down to a dock where half a dozen children were attempting to catch fish while three golden retrievers enthusiastically complicated the process.

The smell of charcoal drifted across the yard. Someone had music playing. Someone else was already arguing over cornhole.

It looked... Nice.

I parked beside Eddie's truck and climbed out.

Almost immediately I regretted it.

"There he is," someone called.

Eddie... Ben... Aleksander. Waiting beside the drinks cooler.

Like vultures.

"What?" I asked.

Ben looked me up and down. "Oh, Noah."

"What?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think we do."

"We really do."

Aleksander sighed heavily. "Those clothes are an embarrassment to the entire North American Professional Hockey League."

I looked down. Dark jeans. Grey T-shirt. White trainers.

"...They're clothes."

"They're tragic."

"They fit."

"They're deeply uninspired."

"I wasn't aware jeans required inspiration."

Eddie shook his head. "You'll never find a significant other dressed like that."

"I wasn't trying to."

"Exactly."

Ben pointed dramatically at me. "See?"

"I don't."

"You've already given up."

"I wasn't aware I was participating."

Aleksander placed a sympathetic hand on my shoulder. "The cartoon eyes won't last much longer before they wander to someone else."

I blinked. "...The what?"

"The cartoon eyes."

"I don't know what that means."

"You're old enough to understand."

"I'm twenty-nine."

"Time comes for us all."

"I hate all of you."

"We know."

Ben nodded solemnly. "So you'd better hustle."

"Hustle towards what?"

"A wardrobe."

"I'm leaving."

"You can't escape fashion."

"Yet I can absolutely escape you."

I walked away before they could continue.

Behind me I heard Eddie call, "We're only trying to help!"

"I didn't ask for help!"

"The people who need it most never do!"

---

The kitchen was quieter.

Mostly.

One long island had been converted into a drinks station, beer, wine, soft drinks. Enough food to feed a small country.

I reached for a bottle.

"So..."

I froze since I had inadvertently wandered into the domain of the Wives and Girlfriends.

Irina smiled warmly.

Tracey smiled even more warmly.

Neither expression boded well.

"...Hi."

"Hello, Noah."

"Having fun?"

"I've been here four minutes."

Tracey laughed. "You clean up nicely."

"...Thank you? I've been told otherwise."

Irina tilted her head. "So."

Oh no.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

There it was.

"No."

"No special someone?"

"No."

"Too busy?"

"I play hockey."

Tracey exchanged a glance with Irina. "That's not really an answer."

"It was the one I had."

"So you're single."

"...Yes."

"For how long?"

I considered pretending not to understand English.

"Quite a while."

"Hm."

"You seem very focused."

"I like hockey."

"We've noticed."

Irina smiled kindly. "It would be nice if someone looked after you."

"I'm twenty-nine."

"You still need feeding occasionally."

"I can cook."

Tracey raised an eyebrow. "Can you?"

"...Adequately."

"So no one special."

"No."

"No secret dates?"

"No."

"No handsome mystery man?"

I sighed. "No."

They both looked faintly disappointed.

Then Tracey's attention shifted over my shoulder. "Oh."

Irina turned. "Oh, would you look at that."

I looked too.

Jackson had wandered into the games room.

Stellan's twin boys, who couldn't have been older than three, had apparently decided he was the greatest human being alive. One was perched on each hip while Jackson attempted to walk with the resigned expression of a man who had accepted that carrying two toddlers meant surrendering all control over his immediate future.

One little boy was enthusiastically explaining something involving dinosaurs. The other was patting Jackson's hair, his face tucked into his shoulder as if he belonged there.

Jackson nodded with complete seriousness. "I see."

The boys both started talking at once. He somehow appeared to understand them.

Tracey actually put a hand over her heart. "Oh, that's adorable."

Irina smiled. "He's wonderful with children."

"He really is."

"You know..."

Tracey glanced sideways. "...He's single too."

Something tightened unpleasantly in my stomach. I found myself listening far more carefully than the conversation deserved.

Irina nodded thoughtfully. "We should introduce him to Rebecca."

"Oh!"

"Or Claire."

"Claire would adore him."

"No..." Tracey considered it. "...Emily's cousin."

"Which Emily?"

"The accountant."

"Oh!"

"She'd be perfect."

I frowned at my beer. For some reason... That annoyed me.

Quite a lot.

"...Excuse me."

Both women looked back.

"Oh?"

"I've just remembered..."

I paused.

"...The grill."

"The grill?"

"Very important."

"What about it?"

"I need to..."

I searched desperately.

"...Observe it."

Before either of them could ask another question, I escaped with my beer.

---

The grill was, in fact, functioning perfectly well without my supervision.

Several fathers were discussing charcoal with the seriousness usually reserved for international diplomacy.

I found an empty Adirondack chair overlooking the lake.

Peace at last.

I'd barely taken one sip of beer when someone stopped beside me.

Jackson, surprisingly toddler-free.

"You escaped," I observed.

"Barely," he laughed. "You?"

"Wives and teammates."

"My condolences."

I looked at the empty chair beside me. "Sit."

He blinked. "...Really?"

"Please."

That seemed to confuse him even more. "You voluntarily want to talk to me?"

I thought about it. "It's just..." I gestured vaguely towards the house. "...you're less annoying than the other weirdos."

He stared. Then laughed.

Not the polite laugh. The real one.

"That," he said, sitting down beside me, "is a ringing endorsement."

"It wasn't meant to be."

"I hope you're available to deliver my eulogy."

I grinned into my beer. "Your funeral?"

"Yes."

"I plan on being there."

He studied me. "I should hope so."

"I'll probably say something nice."

"Probably?"

"I don't want people getting unrealistic expectations."

He nodded gravely. "Fair."

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the lake shimmer in the late afternoon sun.

Children shrieked somewhere near the dock.

One of the dogs launched itself into the water after a tennis ball.

Jackson took a sip of his beer. "So."

"So."

"What were they bothering you about?"

"My clothes."

He looked me over. "You seem dressed."

"I know," nodding solemnly. "I don't show up naked at barbecues any more."

"They're perfectly normal clothes."

"Thank you."

"They also asked about my love life."

"...Ah."

"They're all insane."

He nodded. "They asked me if I was seeing anyone yesterday."

"You too?"

"Mhm."

"What did you say?"

"That hockey season had started."

"...Reasonable answer."

"I thought so."

"They disagreed?"

"They seemed unconvinced."

I shook my head. "We're surrounded by weirdos."

"We really are."

Behind us, Ben's voice carried across the lawn.

"Has anyone seen Noah?"

I closed my eyes.

Jackson sighed. "So much for peace."

"I give it three seconds."

"Two."

"Noah!"

I looked at Jackson.

"...Told you."

He smiled. "I hate when you're right."

"So do I."

For reasons I couldn't explain, the rest of the afternoon felt considerably easier once he was sitting beside me. Even if he was, objectively speaking, still a little annoying.