Page 32 of Speed

I crept into the sunny office, closed the door, and took a seat in front of his desk. Coach wasn’t the tidiest of men. His desk was littered with gum wrappers, empty coffee mugs, and playbooks. There were pictures of his wife and adult daughters. Two frames filled with shots of him and his grandkids.

“Your grandkids are cute,” I said to try to ease into my reason for sitting here taking up his time with bullshit. Maybe I should have sat in the locker room a bit longer.

“Thanks, they’re the apple of my eye. So, you’re here to talk about my grandkids?” he prompted. I shook my head. “Do we need a player rep in here?”

“No, I don’t… no. I was just… okay so I was just wondering how the team would feel if I started dating a guy. Publicly.”

The tension around his mouth lessened. “Well, speaking only for myself, but I’m sure the rest of the organization would feel the same, we’d be fine with the son of two happily married men who played for our team for many years dating a man.”

Oh yeah, right. Fathers. Plural. “Okay, yeah, sure. I guess that makes sense.”

“Listen, I know that people are still people. Meaning that some fans are going to be twits no matter what year it is.” I smiled at his frankness. Coach was nothing if not straightforward. I liked that about him. “The Railers have been an inclusive and safe team for many, many years. I do not see that changing anytime soon. So, if you want to bring a man to the next public activity, do so. Just make sure he trims his nose hair and wears a clean tie.”

I chuckled. “Will do. Thanks, Coach.” I rose, and we shook hands.

“No problem. Now get out of here and go shower. You smell like the inside of a gym bag left in the sun for a few days.”

Shit. “Sorry. I’m out. Thanks again.” I hauled my rank body back to the locker room, showered, and was pulling on my jeans when my phone buzzed. The din of men talking and laughing was a familiar one. Morning skate had been good, the team was coming together, and I was still here. My bout of silliness aside, the day was shaping up to be a good one.

I gave the text that had come in a fast read.

Pops and I have to go to Maryland overnight for a signing event. Can you come over and feed, then, let the dogs out?– Dad

As the Baja Men would say - I’ll let the dogs out. ~ N

Dad replied with a string of laughing emojis and a warm thank you.

“Hey, you feeling better?” Blake asked as he sat down on my left in a towel and purple Crocs with tiny ducks on them. Nik, a blatant exhibitionist, took a stance beside me, arms folded, dick swinging free for all the world to see.

“I would be if his junk wasn’t in my face,” I said, then jerked a thumb at the cocky Russian snickering.

“He is jealous of my big penis,” Nik said as he wandered off to make small talk with Cap.

Blake nudged me in the side. “Your numbers cool?”

“Yeah, thanks. You were right. I shouldn’t let the stress get to me.”

“Correct. Which is why you should come to the movies with us tonight. Nik is lining up some girls for us, or you know, you can bring a dude. We’re going to go see that new horror flick about the mutant Pekinese that attacks a small town.”

Nope, that was a hard pass for me. I hated horror movies. Although a movie date with Brody would be nice. Only problem was that we were still hidingus.

“Did you say Pekinese? Like a tiny dog?” I asked when the full impact of what he had said sank in.

“Yeah, it sounds stupid, but Nik thinks the girls will be scared and need big strong hockey players to protect them.” Blake shrugged. “So, if you have a guy you want to bring, feel free.”

“I think I’ll pass. Thanks though.”

“Any time.” He gave my shoulder a bump with the side of his fist, then moseyed back to his locker. The thought of a night out at the theater ate at me, so, being the clever man I am, I used the tried and true method that every teen uses. Folks are gone, and I have a key to the mansion. Not that I was a teen anymore, but if something works and all that.

I texted Brody and told him we were heading to the cinema tonight.

His reply was a line of about forty question marks.

Good. Let him wonder. It would be more fun when I showed him Pops’ basement.

“This is…well, this is something else,” Brody said as we entered the basement-slash-movie theater. Five dogs pranced around us, all fed and watered and back from a long run on the extensive grounds. “The interior has a very Vegas feel.”

“Yeah, it does.” I reached down to pick up Mittens from the raucous gaggle of dogs vying for even more attention. “In case you couldn’t tell, my pops likes Elvis.”

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