Page 10 of Let It Be Me
“Hi, Riley. How was your meeting?” Her voice floats through the speakers.
I set my cruise control when I see nothing but open road before me. “Good, I guess? My new publicist, from what I can tell, is tough. She’s temporarily taking over as my agent until I can find a new one.”
“That’s a good thing. I never liked your agent. He seemed more of a taker than a giver.”
“Ugh, Momma.” I cringe.
I hear the sucking of her teeth. “None of that.”
When I moved in with Momma and Pops, we took some adjusting. They had to adjust to having a third person in their house. I had to adjust to living with people who weren’t my birth parents. While we would do vacations together before my parents passed, that was different than living together full-time. And as the kinks were eventually ironed out, some things were still tough to talk about. Sex being one. I don’t think Momma or Pops thought they’d have to give the birds and the bees talk to me. But it waswholly uncomfortable for all of us. What they left out, due to all of our embarrassment, I learned on my own and from experience as I got older.
With Momma working as a part-time sex therapist, it became easier to talk with her about the act and why my body reacted in a certain way when it saw something that my body liked, especially when I hit puberty. But sometimes, like now, I still revert to childlike ways when it comes to talking about sex.
“What did you call me for?” I ask, getting back on track.
“Oh, right. We’re having a barbecue this weekend. If you want to take a break from your hockey life and head over we have a plate for you.”
“Is mac & cheese on the menu?” My mouth is already watering just thinking of the flavorful dish.
Momma’s laugh is audible. “Of course it is. That’s one of the only ways we get you to come home.”
“Momma, don’t play. I come home once a month.”
My parents live just a thirty minute drive away. But with how busy my schedule gets during the season, they act like I have to travel by plane to see them.
“I’m plenty aware, honey,” she tells me. “My other line just buzzed. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Okay, bye. Love you.”
“Love you too, honey.”
An hourlater I make it back to my condo and pull into one of my assigned spots. I get out and take the elevator up to my seventeenth-floor home and use the key fob to get inside. The clattering of my keys being tossed in the bowl isdeafening in the silence of my home, along with the front door closing shut. I’m in the process of taking my shoes off when the sound of feet pitter-pattering towards me brings a smile to my face.
“Hello you two.” I greet my cats. That’s right. I’m a cat dad. A Certified Cat Daddy, if you will. At least that’s what my teammates call me. I’ve been a cat lover since I was little. When my parents passed away, there was a question about where the family cats would live. I begged and pleaded with Momma and Pops to let them live out the rest of their lives with us. They said yes and it felt like a bit of my parents lived on until they crossed over the rainbow bridge.
When I signed my contract and bought this place, I knew I wanted cats as soon as I got my own place. And that’s exactly what I did.
Sasha, my ragdoll, jumps on my shoulder before I head towards the expansive living room to turn the television on for some background noise. She did the jumping one day as a kitten and has been doing it every day for the last two years. While I wait for my streaming apps to pop up, I scratch under her chin and take a look outside at the view of Downtown Columbus as the city comes alive after what I’m guessing was a long work week. After I signed my contract, I took all of the advice Momma and Pops taught me about staying financially responsible and bought a nice place that isn’t too extravagant. In fact, I live quite modestly compared to my teammates.
If by modest, I mean my condo is three-thousand square-feet with floor-to-ceiling windows and an unobstructed view of the city. I have a kitchen that serves its purpose as I’ve been known to cook up quite the feast when I have guests over. A double burner stove top and a flat top in the center for when my cooking calls for that. Along witha dining room that’s off to the side where those big feasts take place with a table that seats eight.
When the apps on the TV finally load, I select a show that I’ve seen hundreds of times and place Sasha on the oversized couch before petting Pixie, my Maine Coon who is more on the reserved side, on the head and wander to the kitchen. On days I don’t cook, like today, I have a few meals stockpiled from the meal delivery service I use. Rifling around my fridge, I find a salmon meal that's high in protein, with plenty of veggies and sweet potatoes. My phone vibrates right as I pop my food in the microwave.
Baby Pucklings
Max: The Ally tonight?
Noah: Can’t. Going on a date.
Max: Boo!
Max: Logan? Riley?
Me: I have a workout in the morning and my parents have a barbecue.
Logan: Do Cassie and Dean have room for one more?
Max: Logan, dude!
