Page 32 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

Her eyes were all over the rink, trying to keep up with the little black puck that was moving faster than lightspeed before her. People were yelling all around her excitedly, which included a few bloodthirsty children, shockingly enough.

“Hi,” a woman with glasses turned in her seat and smiled happily. “Are you Jeannie? Larsson’s wife? I’m Dustin’s wife, Laurel, and this is my younger sister, Kendall.”

“The dump truck’s sister-in-law,” the teenager informed her openly, causing Laurel to roll her eyes as Jeannie laughed. “What? They stink after practice, and that’switha shower. I’m sure the flies swarm their pits and…”

“Enough, Kendall,” Laurel chided, looking embarrassed. “The fun never stops – even at home.”

“Sounds like it,” she smiled, pointing at the ice. “Is it always this fast?”

“Sometimes even faster,” Laurel admitted, looking at her curiously but remaining silent. “Wait until they get close to the period ending. Those last few seconds are frantic usually and when we’re getting close to the end of the game – it’s vicious.”

And Jeannie sucked in her breath as the puck came flying toward Matthieu – and he flew down to his knees, blocking the puck as the other players rushed him.

“Butterfly…” she breathed, stunned, and saw him jump up like it was nothing, giving the puck to the referee.

“Man, that was a great block,” Laurel said openly.

“Not bad,” Kendall chimed in.

“He’s amazing,” Jeannie whispered, watching her husband with admiration, pride, and something of wonder. The game continued. Matthieu blocked shot after shot, and it amazed her at the lengths he would go to stop the puck from getting into the net. Just when she didn’t think she could handle the intense excitement of the game and the anxiety each time they got close to her husband, there was a scuffle on the ice, a large fight, and they traded out her Matthieu for the other goalie, Lafreniére.

“Woohoo! Dustin’s up!”

“How mad do you think he would be if we got the crowd chanting ‘Let’s Go, Dump Truck’?” Kendall beamed – and both Laurel and Jeannie gave the girl a horrified look of disbelief. “No?”

“Noooo,” both exclaimed.

Jeannie would be mortified to be called a ‘dump truck’ publicly, much less having it chanted by a crowd of this size. Instead, the game started once again, the chant forgotten, as she started watching the game once more, only to hear her phone ring.

Answering it, Jeannie put a finger in one ear and held the phone up to the other, shocked.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Hang on…” Jeannie tapped on Laurel’s shoulder, nodding to her. “I’ve got to step out for… for work,” she began, not wanting to elaborate more. The woman nodded, turning back to the gameand Jeannie said openly into the phone. “Hang on a few seconds longer,” moving into the aisle and hurrying down the walkway into the massive atrium before taking a seat on a nearby bench.

“Mom? Can you hear me better?”

“What was going on?”

“I’m at a hockey game…” Jeannie began only to get cut off.

“Where?” her mother said sharply, and she heard a noise as her father took the phone. “Where are you, young lady? Is it true?”

“What do you mean?”

“I had you investigated…”

“WHAT?” she yelped, shocked and horrified.

“You think I’m going to have my only daughter go traipsing off across the globe and not have you watched? You represent me. You are my child. I don’t care how old you get – you are still a Thornton…”

She listened, stunned, as her father continued, berating her and talking to her like she was a child.

“And then I find out that the man I’ve had watching you, following you, nearly gets beat up by some guy and…”

“Wait a second,” she whispered in disbelief and disgust as it suddenly clicked in her mind what was going on. “You had me followed by someone – who told you that they were nearly beat up – and, oh, I cannot believe this! I cannot believe you would put someone up to this! Was it a guy named Jim?”

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