Page 74 of It's Mother-Pucking Christmas!

“Gosh,” Gracie said, sitting next to me with a plate of nachos. “They’re really digging the knife in.”

“I mean, Dakota mucho fucked up,” Granny Murray added, plopping down on the other side. “I keep telling you girls you get to a certain age you think these good men grow on trees. They do not. Then time runs out, and you end up with someone like your grandfather.” She scowled. “I hope the old bastard chokes to death on a female condom.”

“Dakota, just eat something,” Gracie coaxed, trying to force-feed me nachos.

The Icebreakers coach blew a whistle for time out. The Icebreakers were down four to one. The stadium collectively groaned. Several people stood up, saying they were leaving.

“I need more ice,” I mumbled. “The vodka’s warm.”

“I think you just drank so much you can’t feel anything.”

“Better stay low,” Granny Murray warned, tugging at my shirt. “Your aunt put a hit out on you.”

28

RYDER

“What the fuck are you doing?” Coach screamed at me when I was breathing hard on the bench in front of him.

“Sorry, I—”

“You think the NHL is going to sign you, boy, if you keep playing like that?”

I blinked up at him sadly. “I don’t want to play for the NHL.”

Coach looked like he was going to blow a gasket. “You fucking fucker.Fuck!”

“I don’t want to leave you guys. You stuck your neck out for me. It’s not right. And besides.” I gestured out to the ice. “I guess I forgot how to play.”

“Moron.” Coach slapped my helmet.

“Ow!” I clutched my head.

He hit me again. “What the hell do you think this is? Mr. Rogers and his puppets play hockey? The minors are feeder teams for the NHL. That is why we exist. We don’t feed, they don’t pass their financial scraps onto us. I need you to get called up to the NHL, College Boy, you get it? You feel me?” He grabbed my shoulder.

“But then I can’t help the team win.”

“Getting called up? That’s how you help the team. You know how many players the Arctic Avengers sent last season? Three. You know how many we sent? Zero.” Coach clenched a fist in front of my face. “Ineedyou to get called up. That is how we get paid. That’s how I keep my job.”

“Oh. Well. Okay, I guess.”

“You fucking guess? I need you to play like you deserve a multimillion dollar contract.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

“You will?” Coach hollered. “What is it? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

I looked up to where Dakota and her family were in the stands. “Nothing. I—”

Coach saw where I was looking and grabbed my face, forcing my head back to him. He pulled my helmet off so he could stare at me.

“Listen. Ryder. I’ve been divorced three times. Forget her. They always betray you. That’s life, son. One of them? She had this kid right? I loved that little baby like my own. His father didn’t want him. We broke up, and she told me to eat shit. Took that little baby and vanished. Judge said there was nothing he could do.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, cupping my face, “because you guys, you know, you guys are my kids. Even if you drive me fucking crazy. You’ll put me in an early grave, all of you.” Coach smirked. “And when you get to the NHL and make it big, and everyone in the country knows your name, I’ll be there at your games watching you wipe the floor with them and telling everyone you learned it all at the Icebreakers under my esteemed tutelage.”

Coach wrapped me in a crushing hug then pulled back and grinned at me. “Let me see that smile.”

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