Page 122 of Suck My Puck

He stands just a few feet from me.

“Dad.”

I take in the bewildered look on his face. Like he’s looking at some weird creature at the zoo and not his own son who he hasn’t seen in person in more than a year.

He blinks, then frowns at me. “What are you doing here?” His tone is gruff and hard, bordering on irritated, exactly how I remember it.

A weird tightness lands at the center of my chest. Part of me wishes that he sounded happy to see me.

But then I remind myself that he’s not that kind of dad,the kind that gets all happy and emotional over his kid. He doesn’t care about seeing me. He doesn’t care about how I’m doing or what’s going on in my life. Only how good of a hockey player I am.

“I’m visiting Mom for Thanksgiving,” I say, my voice curt.

“Oh. Right.” He clears his throat and shoves his hands in the pockets of his top coat. He’s wearing a suit, so he must have had an important work dinner or something.

He looks almost exactly the same as the last time I saw him. Same tall, lean frame. Same blonde-gray hair. Same frown lines etched in his face. Same hard look in his eyes.

“Don’t you have a game against Vancouver coming up soon? Shouldn’t you be resting for that?”

All the muscles in my body harden at his tone, how it borders on disappointed. He’s always so disappointed in me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bella frowning at him.

“I’ll be fine,” I say to him, my tone on the edge of bitter. “What are you doing in Victoria?”

He hesitates, like he’s debating if he should tell me. “The AHL is looking to expand to Victoria and they’re interviewing for their coaching staff.”

I’m surprised. My dad has coached college hockey in Michigan for the past fifteen years. He’s made that job his whole life at the expense of his marriage and his relationship with me. I never thought he’d leave it, ever.

“Good luck to you,” I say. He doesn’t say anything in response. We just stand there, staring at each other, more like total strangers than father and son.

Bella gently squeezes my hand. When I turn to look at her, she gives me a small smile. The tightness in my chest eases. Running into my dad like this is awkward asfuck, but it would be a million times harder if I had been alone.

“This is Bella, my girlfriend.”

My dad nods at her. “Nice to meet you,” he says gruffly.

“It’s not nice to meet you,” she says.

My brow jumps in shock at hearing her say that. I look at my dad, who’s looking at her with a shocked expression too.

“Excuse me?” he says.

“I can’t say that it’s nice to meet you. Because it’s not. You should be ashamed of the way you treat your son. He’s told me the things you’ve said about him. And I heard what you said about him on that sports podcast. You’re a jerk for that.”

She shakes her head, her expression hard. “Braden is an incredible hockey player. One of the top goalies in the league. You should be telling him how proud you are of him instead of insulting him and talking crap about him behind his back. Every other dad on the planet would be ecstatic to have a son like Braden. Because not only is he an amazing hockey player, he’s an amazing person. One of the kindest, most generous and hardworking people I know. And some day, you’ll look back and regret losing this time with your son because you were too busy being a stubborn jerk.”

When she finishes speaking, I look over at my dad. He’s staring at her with his mouth open. No one talks to my dad like that. Not his players, not his coaching staff, not me.

But Bella did.

A warm feeling spreads through me at the way she defended me, at how she read him for exactly what he is.

He blinks, the look in his eyes dazed. He glances off to the side, not saying a word.

For a few seconds, I stand there, wondering if he’s goingto say anything in response. But then I realize that I don’t care.

I don’t care what he has to say. I don’t care what he thinks.

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