Page 32 of The Import Slot
I shrug; it’s nothing I haven’t felt before. “Okay. I’m glad to get started,” I say.
Jen gives me a rundown of the rest of the league while we eat and I’m genuinely impressed by how much knowledge she has. She tells me about our team’s history while we load my car.
“I know everyone will probably think you can just come in and win all the games, but you can only be as good as your weakest player. I’m worried you’ll waste your talent here,” she says.
I’ve been thinking the same thing, but what can I do; pay the buy-out fee and hope someone else wants to pick me up? It’ll look better if I finish the season anyway.
We lose track of time while talking, and I’m usually a man of few words, but it’s so easy to talk to her and she really listens. She genuinely wants to know about me, not just the money I make in the League; the money I used to make, anyway.
Once we get the car loaded, she grabs some snacks and water. My phone vibrates with a new message just before we set off.
Liam: I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t know what else to do, but just know that I really couldn’t go.
Ryan: What the hell happened with you and Vicky?
I get no response after that. I’ve been texting him for days now, trying to get a reply after I confronted him about his lie, and that’s all he gives me? A lousy sorry via text message. I toss my phone into the centre console.
“So, any new matches?” I ask, almost teasing.
“Yeah, loads,” she says. My heart sinks, but when I look at her, I realise she’s being ironic. “I just struggle to find a genuine connection with anyone. You know when you meet someone and you really have to think what to say? Like it doesn’t come naturally, that’s crap. I don’t want that.” She pauses for a moment. “No one is as easy to talk to as you.”
I know exactly what she means; I feel the same and it’s frustrating as hell.
We sit for a moment in silence, then the car tells me I’ve got an incoming call. It’s my dad.
“Do you mind if I take this?” I ask.
“No, not at all,” she says.
Once I found out about Liam’s lie, I may have texted my dad to tell him that Liam is a dick.
“Ryan. What the hell is going on? Why can’t I get a hold of your brother?” Dad asks as soon as the call connects. His Boston accent is shining with rage.
“I can’t either. He’s been caught in a lie.”
“What lie?” my dad asks, his voice booming through the car speakers.
“Liam told me he and Johnny had made a pact, a bet, whatever. If Liam was still waiting to be called up last season, and Johnny’s team didn’t make the playoffs, Liam would come here and play. That was all bullshit. There was no expectation from Johnny, but Liam had signed a goddamn contract he couldn’t get out of without finding a replacement.” I take a breath. “I’m trying to find out all the details.”
“You’d swear we raised you boys in completely different houses, for Christ’s sake. Heaven knows what your mom would say,” he says. “How much is the buyout?” He was happy for me being here on Liam’s behalf, on the premise of a bet. Well, not happy, but he came around to the idea. Our parents brought us up to always settle our bets,Game of Thronesstyle, except with bets instead of debts, but there being no bet changes things for him.
“I’d have to speak to Ronnie, but I will stick out the season. Ronnie said the Jets have reached their salary cap now, anyway.” I only overlooked the buyout myself because I didn’t want to let Johnny down.
“If he fucks things up for you, I’ll kill the damn kid.”
My dad was always on the fence about us making professional careers out of hockey, but he’s enthusiastic about it now. He thinks we should keep it going until we need to retire.
“Does this have anything to do with Victoria Koenig?” he asks. I notice Jen’s brows pop up when she hears Vicky’s name.
“He won’t tell me shit, Dad, but my guess is yes.” I think this has everything to do with Vicky Koenig.
“Christ, and I thought you were the selfish one. I guess I’m flying to Toronto this weekend,” he says. “Talk to Ronnie about the buyout, but worse case, it’s only until April, and you’ll be back home where you belong.” He hangs up after saying goodbye, and I start the engine.
“I was not expecting that.”
“What?” I ask.
“I just assumed you’d have the same accent as your dad.”
