Page 95 of Hockey Wife

Who wants to know?

Unknown

This is McMillan. Fuck, I’m sorry.

Banks inhaled deeply, thinking about all the things he’d like to say. At the same time, he recognized that striking a puck in anger during the playoffs was not unheard of. Rarely did it end so badly, but his wife was fine. Better than fine, and last night he’d taken care of her.

In all the ways.

Banks

She’s okay.

And then because he didn’t want to let him off too lightly, he added:

See you on the ice tomorrow.

Hockey players had ways to sort out their differences.

Unknown

…

Sure. Tell her I’m sorry.

You will be.

“Really, I’m perfectly fine. I only wish I could go with you.”

Trish frowned. “We can’t leave you.”

Georgia held up her phone with the text thread from Skye. “See? My bestie is coming over. You guys have tickets to Wicked! You should not be missing that. I’ve already seen it twice.”

The Bankowski Babes looked torn. All morning, they had been so attentive, along with Banks before he headed into Rebels HQ for practice, and Georgia had squirmed at being the center of such focus. Dani used to call it “The Eye of Goodwin” when their parents were laser-focused on her, whether it was her temperature, her breathing, or her constantly monitored heartbeat. Whenever her parents said good morning, they’d respond with “Under his eye” and dissolve into giggles.

People looked at Georgia, but no one actually saw her. Which was why it was very easy to fob the crowd off with protestations about how fine she was. She’d been doing it for years.

“Text me at intermission. And if you don’t hear from me, shoot an SOS to your brother.”

April pointed her finger. “You know he’ll kill us if anything happens to you.”

“Again,” Sandy said.

Connie added, “When he should be saving that aggression for McMillan and Boston tomorrow night.”

“Nothing will happen. The doctors gave me the all-clear and you know Banks is just being overprotective. Go enjoy your show!”

Thirty minutes later, they were out the door and Georgia had sent a message to Skye telling her she would see her in a couple of hours, which gave her time for her real errand: to go see Jim.

“How is he today?”

Debbie stared at her, clearly amazed that Georgia was here at all. “You got hit by a puck! We saw it on TV. Are you okay?”

Georgia touched her wound. “It was a bit of a shock, but I’m fine. Hard head, you know?”

“Dad’s going to love hearing all about it. And your husband scored before he left the rink. I assume he raced to be at your side.”

Georgia could feel her cheeks heating. “I would have much preferred he stayed on the ice. He was on a roll.”

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