Page 81 of Mann Hunt
Chalmers took another sip of coffee. “And you say he can play? If he can’t, they’ll spot it the minute he steps on the ice.”
“Just tell them he’s here to try out for the team. Nothing more. You’re doing it as a favour for Katherine in memory of Ian. That way, if he can’t play as well as I say he can, there’s no harm, no foul. Nothing’ll reflect badly on you.”
Chalmers stared hard at Declan. “Tell him to come for the skills practice Monday afternoon. I’ll need him at the arena for three p.m. If he’s late, he’s out.”
Chalmers finished his last swig of coffee and walked out of the diner. Declan picked up the phone.
“Charlie, you’re in.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Charlie arrived at his parent’s house just as dinner was being served. His grandmother and father were already seated. Charlie’s usual place at the table had not been set.
“So, you run out the door last night, but you still come back to eat our food,” his mother said, standing at the stove.
He knew the look on her face. She was hurt.
“I’m sorry for last night,” Charlie said. “I was upset.”
“I don’t doubt you were, all banged up like that,” his mother replied.
The two at the table remained silent. Gran stared at Charlie. His father stared at the table. Charlie’s mother stood with a pot in her hands. “Did you go to the hospital, at least?”
“I was checked over. It’s just bruising.”It’s just a little white lie.
She put down the pot and got him some cutlery, setting it at his place beside Gran. It was only then that he felt he could sit down. Gran patted him on his knee and smiled. His father stared at his plate of pasta.
It wasn’t until his mother sat with the family that Charlie’s father looked up at him. Charlie could see that he was still angry.
“So,” his dad said, “where did you stay last night?”
“With a friend.”
“If you want to live under this roof, you’re gonna follow my rules, do you understand?”
Charlie chewed his lower lip.
“Do you understand?” he yelled and slammed his fist down on the table.
“What are these rules?” Charlie yelled back. “I don’t know what they are. I’ve never seen them. Is there a handbook I should know about?”
“You want to know what the rules are? Fine. Rule number one—give your mother the respect she deserves. Rule number two—quit that damned job of yours and get one you’re trained for. Do you have any idea how much money we spent putting you through university, only to have it thrown away by you deciding to play detective when you have no idea what you’re doing?”
“For Christ’s sake,” Charlie shot back. “It’s only a short-term contract, and I’m not sure if you noticed, but no one is beating down the door to hire me in spite of my degree.”
His mother said, “I think what your father is worried about is that this job might be too dangerous.”
“I’m subbing in for a sixty-eight-year-old. How dangerous do you think the job is?”
There was no response from his parents.
Charlie continued, “But I tell you one thing, in the week I’ve been there, I’ve felt more useful and achieved more than at any other job I’ve had, and, if for some reason I was to be offered the job full time, I would take it in a second.”
“That’s enough,” his father snapped.
“For once we agree on something,” Charlie said, pushing his chair back and heading towards the basement.
As he left he could hear Gran say, “Leave him be, Ted. He needs some space.”
