Page 24 of The Import Slot
“What are you doing?” I ask, gobsmacked.
“Pouring you a beer, duh. It’s the only job I’ve ever done outside of playing hockey, and I just convinced Greg there that I can cover for him.” He sets a beer in front of me, and the head is about two inches deep.
“Can you top me up, please?” I give my pint a sympathetic look.
“I didn’t say I was very good at it.”
“Let’s just say we’d be in trouble if your slapshot was as bad as your pint pulling,” I tease.
“Go on then, what was your first job?” he asks.
“Tesco’s. Stacking shelves on a Saturday. I loved it for about a month, but then hated dealing with customers.”
We take the conversation to a whole new level, talking about our childhoods, what we do for fun, what music we like, and what makes us who we are today. Only when Johnny comes bursting back in with Vicky, do we realise how late it is.
“Oh, I need to take a photo of this. Pretend you’re drawing a beer, like old times,” Vicky says, pulling her phone out. Ryan poses for a few shots.
“I don’t need to pretend. I used to do this all the time, remember?”
“Yeah, right. Ryan used to collect the empty glasses for Margie. I think she only gave you that job to do because she thought you were cute,” Vicky says before explaining that Margie ran a pub close to the rink they had practice at.
“She definitely had an old lady crush,” Johnny adds.
“Nah, she used to let me serve the beers too. I was totally underage, but whatever,” Ryan says.
“Oh, remember when Liam went in and did a few hours to cover for you for your tryouts? Poor Margie didn’t even notice.”
Laughter rings through the empty bar.
“How much stuff did you do pretending to be the other twin?” I ask.
“Well, most people could tell us apart, but getting away with stuff was easier when we were in our full gear. I did a try-out for Liam once, and when my mom came to pick—who she thought was Liam—up, she went completely insane. Marched me back in there and made me confess.”
“Oh, I remember that,” Johnny says, “It was that Under-fourteens trial, and Liam had pulled his hamstring.”
“Yeah, there was no fooling your mom,” Vicky adds. There’s a hint of sorrow in her voice.
“It sounds like you guys had a great time growing up together,” I say.
“We sure did. Though, I was always the one trying to keep the boys reined in. Liam and I used to—” Vicky cuts off her sentence. I know that there’s a history between her and Liam. Ryan has told me as much as he knows, but I don’t know the current situation.
“What are you still doing here, anyway?” Ryan asks the siblings.
“Vicky’s been showing me the photos from tonight’s game, picking what to use for the season-opener media. They want to make some cardboard banner things for the fans, one on each seat,” Johnny says.
Vicky gets out a sample from her bag and shows us. It’s in the team colours and has pre-set folds so people can make a fan shape and wave it around. There’s a placeholder for a picture which will outline a few of the players. Every year they make these banners for the season-opener, but it seems like they’ve put more effort into it this year, probably because of Vicky.
“We’re off now, anyway. You guys need a ride?” Vicky says.
“Sure, thanks,” I say, gathering my things.
“I’ve got to clean up here. Part of the deal if Greg let me tend the bar,” Ryan shrugs.
“I’ll see you soon,” I say. “Thanks for the drinks.”
“Yeah, soon.”
And I feel him watching me leave.
