Page 111 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

“I have a date.”

“Wait, what?” He takes his eyes off the road.

“Stop sign!” I shout.

He hits the brakes, and my phone goes flying. It slams into the dash, hits the passenger door, drops to the floor, and slides under my seat.

“Shit. Sorry. Dammit. Sorry,” Miller says. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

The person behind us honks. Miller checks both ways before driving through the intersection, then makes a right into the arena. “A date, huh? You finally give in and message one of those ladies from the app?”

“I met her at a coffee shop.”

“Cool.” He taps the steering wheel. “When’s this date?”

“Friday night. But I can schedule it so we go for dinner after your practice.”

“You don’t need to do that, Dad. You’re always at the arena with me. You can skip a night. And Randy can drive me home. We were talking about seeing that new Marvel movie, anyway.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.” He pulls into a spot close to rink three. “That’s great that you’ve got a date, Dad.”

* * * *

“Blue or silver tie.”

“I say blue. Coordinates with your eyes and the ladies like that.” Randy, my son's best friend and teammate, glances over his shoulder before perusing the contents of my fridge. He’s a bottomless pit. They both are. “You mind if I heat up this leftover pizza?” He holds up the Ziplock bag containing six slices from last night’s dinner.

“Sure, go ahead.”

“You gotta split it with me, though. And I agree on the blue tie,” Miller’s eyes don’t lift from the phone in his hand.

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Whenever you wear that tie the moms flirt with you. Wear it on your date.”

“Where you going for dinner?” Randy asks.

“Spiaggia.”

Randy’s eyebrows pop. “Nice, Mr. B. She must be hot.”

I chuckle and shake my head. “You boys better get a move on, or you’ll be late for practice and then I’ll hear it from your coach.”

“On it.” Miller heads for the front foyer. “Have fun on your date, Dad.”

“You still thinking about that movie?” I ask.

“Depends on the timing, but probably. I’ll be home around eleven, so I can get a solid seven before the game tomorrow morning.”

“Good man. Have a good practice and fun night. Drive safe, Randy.”

“You got it, Mr. B. Good luck on your date.”

The boys leave and I give myself a final once-over in the hall mirror before I hop into my SUV. Skye said she’d meet me at the restaurant, in lieu of me picking her up.

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