“The one in front of the nets?”
“That’d be me.”
“Why would you do that to yourself?”
He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”
“I mean willingly stand there on weapons of mass destruction while missiles are whizzed at your face.”
He laughs. “When you put it like that, it does sound crazy, but I love the game and I’m good at my position.”
I shake my head and push Hutch out of the way so I can put the pizza in the oven. We’d taste tested the dough and even Jenny deemed it good. Who would have thought cottage cheese would be better than almond flour? I may need to look into other things it can be substituted for.
“How long should we leave the tomatoes marinating?” Jenny asks as she swats Will away from the pizza boxes.
“They should be ready to eat as soon as the pizza is done.”
“What are you marinating tomatoes for?” Dylan asks.
“Tomato salad. Daisy made it for us last week and now we eat it all the time.”
“A tomato salad?” Dylan rolls the words around like he’s part confused, part fascinated, and part horrified.
“You can eat it.” She smiles, her own dimples coming out. “It’s healthy.”
“And if you’re serious about wanting a shot at the NHL, then you have to get with the program.” Hutch grabs several bottles of water out of the fridge and passes it around.
“The NHL?” Jenny pauses and looks at her boyfriend. “When did you decide this?”
He looks hesitant and I realize this is not a conversation for them to have in front of all of us. “Why don’t you two go talk? I’ll finish everything up.”
She nods and leads him upstairs.
“I thought he told her.” Hutch jams his hands in his pockets. “I’d never have said anything…”
“I’m sure he was going to tell her.” I check on the tomatoes and while it would be better if they sat overnight, they’ll do. The longer they sit, the more water they release, helping to create a natural sauce. The spices we’d added would highlight the naturaltomato flavor. It reminds me ofpico de gallo, only with different seasonings and no onions. The tomatoes are chunkier too.
“Where’s all the guys?” Collin asks. “Practice should be over.”
“Speaking of…why aren’t you at practice?” I ask Will.
“Knee injury. I have to sit out until I’m cleared. Mitch said they were going to be late. Coach wanted them to hit the weights after practice. Big game tomorrow.”
Back home, injury or not, players were expected to be at practice and to suit up for games. I always thought that was stupid, so at least college ball got it right.
“You’d think he’d not push them so hard the day before a big game.” Collin peeks into the oven. “You sure this is going to be good?”
“Hopefully.”
“Coach is a hard ass, but we win games because of it.” Will looks mournfully at the pizza boxes. “You sure I can’t just have one slice?”
“Sure, but then you’d answer to Jenny.”
He swiftly walks back to the couch.
Hutch laughs. “No one wants on her bad side. She’s got a mean bite to her bark.”
“How much longer you out?” Carson sits beside Will and snatches the remote from him to turn it to a sports news network.
