Page 49 of Offside Bride

Me: SOS. Husband read my smutty book. Send help. Or wine. Preferably both.

Emily replies almost instantly.

Emily: OMG. On my way with emergency Chardonnay. Hang in there, girl!

Me: It’s eight o’clock in the morning. I was kidding about the wine.

Emily: LOL

Me: But seriously, I do need your help. Can you meet me near the Blizzard Dome after morning practice?

Emily: Ooh, sounds intriguing. What’s the plan?

Me: Operation: Stalk My Husband. He’s not coming home for his nap and being all secretive about where he’s going. He does that all the time. I tried to ask him but he won’t tell me.

Emily: That’s so sus.

Me: My imagination is running overtime. I don’t know what to do.

Emily: I’m in! Spy gear optional?

Me: Bring your best trench coat and oversized sunglasses.

Emily: Roger that. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop across from the arena. We’ll blend right in with all the other totally normal people hanging around in detective costumes.

Me: Totes. C U at 1? That’s when the guys head home for naps, right?

Emily: Usually, yeah…Can't wait to channel my inner Nancy Drew! I miss those Scooby Doo days with Owen. :(

Somehow, I doubt Emily and Owen playing amateur sleuths had anything to do with the stolen championship trophy they were investigating, and more to do with investigating each other…in dark, cramped spaces.

But they’re married now, so I guess she’s just being nostalgic.

I go about my morning, cleaning Otto’s pistachio shells in the sitting room. I vacuum and mop the wood floor, and then I get the cleaning bug and don’t stop until the whole house is spotless. I get a proud sense of accomplishment from it and feel like I could, one day, have a home of my own to keep tidy and cozy.

As I get in my car to leave for my detective trip, I spot Jessica pushing her stroller down the sidewalk across the street.I wave to her and decide I’ll visit sometime this week. Maybe I’ll attempt to bake cookies.

When I get downtown, I enter the coffee shop across from the Blizzard Dome, spotting Emily immediately. She’s decked out in a full-on cat burglar outfit, complete with a black turtleneck and a beanie.

“Em, what are you wearing?” I ask, trying to stifle my giggles.

“What?” Emily asks innocently as I approach. “I’m embracing the spy aesthetic.”

“We’re following my husband, not robbing a bank,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “But I appreciate the commitment.”

“Go big or go home, that’s my motto,” Emily says with a wink. “Besides, what are best friends for if not questionable undercover activities?”

She’s referring to that time we snuck into the Blizzard Dome after hours to cover Owen’s locker with My Pretty Pony stickers. That was my idea. I wish I could have seen his face when he discovered them.

We grab coffees and position ourselves near the arena exit. When Sawyer emerges, looking unfairly handsome in his casual street clothes, we spring into action.

“Target acquired,” Emily whispers dramatically.

“Operation Stalk My Husband is a go.”

We trail Sawyer through downtown Toronto, ducking behind newspaper stands and pressing our backs against walls whenever he glances over his shoulder. I feel like I’m in some B-grade detective movie, complete with Emily’s ridiculous outfit.

“Quick, hide!” Emily hisses as Sawyer pauses to check his phone. We dive behind a parked car, narrowly avoiding a puddle.

---