Page 18 of Two Guys One Puck
SEABORN
Most of the summer is spent training and working odd jobs for my uncle’s company. Construction is a kind of training in itself. The days are long and hot, but it’s a team, and it helped me learn different ways to work with other guys long before I played college hockey.
“I’m going to need off the second week in July.” I don’t want to have this conversation with my uncle, but I know I have to.
“Why?” He looks up from his computer, deep frown lines forming in his brows. He’s aged a lot in the last four years. With everything that’s going on with my dad, I don’t blame him.
“I got invited to a development camp with the Dragons.”
The Dragons are New York’s NHL team, and the invite feels like a fever dream.
“What?” Uncle Garret rubs his forehead with two fingers. “You know July is our busiest month.”
“I know…” What do I even say to that? Everyone in the family thinks me playing for the NHL is a pipe dream for children, and I know why they feel that way, but it’s not the same for me as it was for them. I have a real shot. “But I can’t say no.”
“How much is that gonna cost you?”
I wince. “It’s only a week. I’m going to come home at night after the three days.” I feel like a fucking child stumbling over my words, trying to explain my decisions to him. But I’m twenty-one years old. I shouldn’t have to explain myself. But I do because I can’t afford to lose this job. Not that I really think my uncle would ever fire me, but I’m not willing to risk it.
“You’re going to commute hours every day? When are you going to sleep?” He’s never worried about my sleep before with the hours he works his crews.
“Won’t be much different than what I’m already doing on the job site at five in the morning.” I throw back.
Talking to Garret is a balancing act between not backing down and giving him respect.
“Do you really want to do this? You know how far your dad got before his injury, and I just don’t want you to waste your time…” He trails off, searching my face.
“I’m not my dad, and development camps are a great way to build relationships with teams. Plus, I can learn skills that will make me better for the upcoming season. Not only that—they’ll give me a taste of how pro hockey is. Not every team does them and not all of them are the same, but if I want to get drafted next year, I have to take every opportunity to make that happen.”
He must see the determination on my face. “Can you afford to live without your wages for a week?”
“I’ll figure it out.” I’ll skip meals the week after or something.
He shakes his head, going back to his screen.
I take that as approval and dismissal, slipping out of his office before he can say anything else.
I sit on the train and pull up Ktytor’s snap chat. He probably can see me watching his stories but I don’t care. Or I’m telling myself I don’t. I haven’t heard a single word from him since that night. Not even when they won their next game. I expected him to rub it in my face, but silence.
The place is a mess when I get home. It’s getting harder and harder for Dad to even stand up, and my brothers are fucking slobs.
“Does nobody fucking clean up after themselves?” I collect dishes as I make my way to the kitchen, arms full by the time I get to the sink.
But there’s no room in the sink because, of course, Zeph didn’t do the last lot.
“Zeph?” I call but get no response.
“He probably has his headphones on.” My dad sits in his recliner with legs up and a light blanket over them. He’s a fraction of the man he used to be. Thin and gaunt, his cheekbones hollowed, and the big, broad shoulders he used to have are skin and bone now.
“When was the last time someone got you up and took you to the bathroom?” I cross the kitchen, surveying the scene. He’s got fresh water, at least, which means my brother probably gave him his evening pills.
“Been about an hour since Zeph got home. I’m okay.”
“Sure?” I pick up his dishes. “Do you need to be turned?” I try to do as much as I can during the summer, between working and staying in shape, because of how little I can be here to help during the season.
“I’m sure. Your aunt brought over groceries. You should make yourself some dinner.”
“She shouldn’t be doing that.”
