Page 14 of Loving Ladybug: Part One
I signed the contract and shook Bunty’s hand again.
He handed me a black and silver Knights hat. “Are you sure you don’t want it announced today? Usually a player like you would have all the fanfare, like a press conference, and photo ops with your new jersey.”
“I’m not really a fanfare sort of guy and I appreciate your willingness to keep this quiet. Closer to the start of the season, I'll be happy to participate in whatever promo you want,” I replied, putting the hat on my head.
“I can respect that.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Let me give you a tour and introduce you around, and we’ll get everything set.”
“When you’re ready to move, I can help you with arrangements. We have an agreement with an apartment building if you’relooking to lease. I know real estate agents if you’re looking to buy. Car leases, moving companies, we can get it all handled. I even have a cheat sheet with utilities, grocery delivery, and everything you need to get started,” someone in operations, a man named Devon, told me.
“Perfect. For now, I’d like to get an apartment,” I replied. I’d already gotten a tour, had lunch, met with HR and had given them all my documents, as well as had a chat with their PR person. The new assistant GM hadn’t started yet. Theirs had left after Bunty hadn’t been fired.
“Great, were you thinking of moving here in late August? Give you a chance to get settled before training camp?” Devon typed on his laptop. He was a very efficient beta in his early thirties.
“How quickly could I move in? I’m staying at the Stonefeld Manhattan Hotel right now,” I replied. While my hotel was nice, it would feel more real once I’d gotten settled.
I needed something to feel real right now.
“Oh. So soon. Okay. Do you have friends or family here?” He started typing.
“Not really. I’m looking forward to exploring all the museums. I had a graphic arts minor back at university,” I replied. My ex hated art museums and always rushed me through them. I had one friend here, but he was out of town.
“There are some nice museums here. Let me see what I can do. How many bedrooms? Sorry, I don’t remember if you have a pack or mate, or anything.”
“It’s just me. Whatever is fine. So is short term. I might buy something after I sell my place in Portland. Who knows?” One step at a time.
Devon got to work. By the time he finished, I had an apartment in a building where several other players lived, and a lot of useful information, and the name of a reputable cross-country mover. Not that I’d be moving a lot.
I also got my credentials, which would enable me to use the training center, so I could stay in shape during the off-season.
After we finished, I wandered around a little. The facilities for the team seemed nice, and off-season access to the rink, gym, trainers, and physios was always a plus. We shared some facilities, like the gyms, with the Maimers, a skate smash team owned by the same family. The teams had their own spaces, too.
Yesterday, the nice rink manager had let me use a small rink reserved for professional practice. I’d been impressed—especially by the little pink-haired goalie. My guess was that she was local, maybe a recent draft pick, wanting to make a good impression when she met her team.
I found myself in a dining room for Knights’ staff and players, the one I’d eaten in earlier. On the wall was a photo of a woman with dark, wavy hair, holding a mask and in full goalie gear. It was faded, the style of both the uniform and gear older. There was a little plaque underneath. Someone had hung a necklace made of pasta noodles from the corner of the frame.Maria Barilla, first beta goalie in the PHL.
Huh. Never heard of her. I snapped a picture and sent it to my friend Cooter–one of the Sasquatch’s goalies and my best friend.
Cooter
All Hail the Queen of the Goalies. Where the fuck are you?
I took a picture of me in the Knights hat.
Cooter
Already?
Me
Why wait? Fishing trips are still on. Visit whenever.
Cooter
Are you not coming back?
Cooter and I had started with the Sasquatches together and had bonded over fishing and country music. I’d miss him.
Not that Cooter was in Portland right now. He was back on his family’s horse ranch in the Appalachians, where he spent his off-season helping out and doing the books.
