Page 18 of The Home Game

“Aww, I love that age,” Matty said as he transferred the seat to his SUV. He carefully strapped it in, just like he did when he watched his goaltender’s kids. “They’re really starting to notice the world around them.”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Antoni said, sounding a little dazed. “You, uh, look like you know what you’re doing there.”

“I babysit for the team kids sometimes,” Matty said, grabbing one of the booster seats. “My goaltender, Anton Makarov, and his wife, Elena, have five.”

“You watch five children all by yourself?” Antoni asked, sounding amazed.

“Sometimes. But sometimes a couple of the guys and I watch them together when Macky and Elena need a date night.”

By then, Matty had the third seat buckled into his SUV. He turned to face Antoni. “Anything else?”

“Uhh.” Antoni grabbed a laptop bag and a tote. “Just these, I think?”

“Cool.” Matty held out his hands until Antoni passed the bags over.

“Thanks.” A tow truck cruised slowly into the parking lot and Antoni waved at it. “I’ll be ready to go as soon as I take care of the towing stuff.”

“Sounds good.” Matty climbed into the SUV. It was still running, the air cool, but Matty kept his window down in case Antoni needed something.

When Antoni listed the garage to take the van to, the tow truck driver frowned. “I’m gonna have to charge extra for that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Antoni said. “Why?”

“It’s a flat fee within the city limits,” the driver said. “Anything outside of that is going to be an extra $75.”

Antoni swore loudly and colorfully and Matty would have been impressed if Antoni hadn’t looked so distressed.

“C’mon, man,” Antoni pled. “It’s just outside the city limits. It’s my buddy’s place and I’m fucking broke. Can you cut me a little bit of a deal?”

The guy shook his head. “Sorry, man, Ontario law.”

Antoni let out another string of colorful swear words that would have done a hockey player proud.

“Hey,” Matty said, sticking his head out the window. “I could cover the difference—”

But Antoni shook his head. “No, I’ve got this.” There was a stubborn set to his jaw that made Matty sure he wouldn’t budge.

Matty sighed and sat back, watching with a worried frown as the guy swiped Antoni’s card and it was declined. Matty itched to say something, to offer again, but he bit his tongue.

“Shit,” Antoni said, fumbling with his wallet. “Wait, try this one.” He handed over a different card and Matty’s chest ached because he remembered those days when he was juggling cards like that, desperately hoping he could scrape together enough to make the payments and not end up further in debt.

By the time the transaction was done, Antoni’s face was bright red and Matty was pretty sure it wasn’t all because of the late-summer heat. Antoni thanked the guy tersely, then got in Matty’s SUV, slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck! I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, shooting a guilty glance at Matty. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” Matty said easily. “Always happens when the window’s down. Where to?”

He pushed a button and the window slid up silently.

“Uh, my parents’ place.” Antoni glanced at the time on the dashboard. “We should make it just in time. Sorry that took longer than I expected, I just …”

He didn’t finish and Matty pulled away from the tow truck driver, who was loading up the van. “It’s all good. Your parents live in my neighborhood, right?”

“Yep. That’s—that’s kinda why I called. I hoped it wouldn’t be too out of the way for you.”

“Nah, I was just having lunch with the boys after practice.”

“The … hockey boys?” Antoni shot him a sidelong glance and buckled his seatbelt.

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