Page 29 of Hat Trick
I’m counting on you, Mitchell.
Me
I said I’d be there.
Coach
You also said you’d meet up with me and Marcus on Monday, and you didn’t. Same with the first day of training camp.
Me
I was tired.
Coach
I’m tired every fucking day of my life.
Me
It must be exhausting to be so annoying.
Coach
Watch the attitude.
I’m a persistent motherfucker. Don’t test me.
* * *
I lookup at the sign welcoming everyone to tonight’s preseason opener at the arena and pull on the sleeve of the jersey I was asked to wear. Fans are filing inside, some holding homemade signs and others decked out in Stanley Cup champions gear from head to toe. I’m sure the boys are on the ice warming up, and this will be my first time seeing them since the night of the accident.
I’m nervous as hell to be around them.
What if they forgot about me?
Even worse, what if they hate me because I pulled away from them?
I rub a hand over my chest, startled when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I maneuver over to an alcove away from passing people so I can have some privacy and lean my crutches against the brick wall. I still need them to feel comfortable on my feet, and I can’t wait to be rid of them.
“Dad?” I answer. “What’s up?”
“Hey, son. Are you at the game?”
“Yeah.” I drop my head against the bricks and sigh. “I am.”
“Are you standing outside the arena and delaying going inside?”
“Do you have a camera on me?”
“No.” He laughs on the other end of the line. “I did the same thing the first time I reentered society after my amputation.”
“You did?”
I think of the party my mom put together to celebrate his release from the hospital. Some of his buddies from the station came out, and so did the family he helped save. A couple neighbors stopped by, and from what I remember, we had a good time. There was laughing. Games. Drinks and good food. His friends swapped stories about Dad being an idiot, and he smiled all night.
“It took me forty-five minutes to work up the courage to come out of the kitchen and visit everyone,” Dad says. “And that was after I threw up three times.”
“Really? I don’t remember any of that.”
