Page 99 of Bombshells
Sylvie. The sight of her name on the screen is like a drug. I feel warmth flood my veins as I answer the call. “Hey girl! Happy New Year. How’s Canada treating you?”
“Anton! Canada is great. And I know you’re probably headed to the rink, but I have to tell you something, okay? I feel really bad about this.”
My stomach bottoms out. Because I’m a hundred percent sure that she’s about to say: Campeau removed his head from his ass. We’re getting married, and we’re going to have little babies together.
Why else does a guy take a girl out of town? They went to visit her father. He probably wanted to ask permission. That’s exactly the kind of guy he is.
“I have to miss the Red Cross test,” she says.
Oh.
“Oh.” I say, stunned at this development. “Is there a problem?”
“Well, no. My coach just called, and I’m playing tomorrow night. So they want me at another goalie practice as a warmup. It’s at the same time as the test.”
It takes me a second to completely rearrange my brain to this new reality. But then I realize what a huge deal that is. “Holy shit!” I gasp. “That’s terrific! You got a home game.” Finally. I sit down on my couch so I can concentrate on whatever she says next.
“I’m pumped up. You have no idea. But I can’t believe I have to bail on the test! After all that.”
“It’s okay,” I say smoothly. “Really. The Red Cross guy is going to run it, right? What was his name?”
“Randy Fineberger.”
“How unfortunate.” We both snicker, and it feels like us again. Sylvie and I always have a good time together. When it’s just the two of us, everything makes more sense.
“I’ll email him,” she says. “And please apologize to the kids? Heck, I’ll email them, too. I really didn’t want to bail.”
“Hey, I know. It’s okay. You’ve been waiting for this.”
“My dad is going to fly back with us so he can see the game.”
“Awesome. I’ll be there, too. It’s the night of my hockey party for the swimmers. They’ll get to see you play, and so will I.” It’s so fortunate, since our schedules almost never line up like this.
“Yeah, like I need any more pressure.” She laughs nervously.
“You got this,” I say, wishing I could reach through the phone and pull her into a hug. “It’s going to be amazing. In twenty-four hours it’s all happening!”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “Thanks for all that you do. For the kids, I mean.”
“Yeah, no problem.” There’s a beat of silence. And I want to fill it with so many things. It’s really good to hear your voice. I miss you more than I’m supposed to. I’m lonely without you.
But I don’t say any of those things. Not one. She’s probably not alone right now, anyway. And she probably doesn’t want to hear it.
“You take care of yourself. I’d better get to the rink.”
“Oh, of course!” she says quickly. “Here I’m babbling about my game, when you have one right now.”
“I’ll get there. You take care, okay? And I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
“Bye, Anton,” she says quickly. “I, um, thanks again. Bye.”
We hang up, and I feel unsettled, but I head to the rink like a good boy. We lose to Florida in overtime, but I get an assist. I can hold my head up high.
As soon as I leave the arena, though, all I can think about is the damn test tomorrow. I skip the bar and head home, thinking about the rescue portion of the exam. I take off my suit, thinking about the treading water part. And I climb into bed, thinking about the last skill—fetching the weight off the bottom of the deep end and swimming it across the pool.
We didn’t have the right kind of weight for practice, so we had to use those rings. And I never demonstrated the full skill. I let Trina demonstrate, because I didn’t want to screw it up and look like a dingus.
Most of the kids practiced the whole skill with the ring. I don’t think Cedric did, though. I wonder if he’ll pass the test.
