Page 91 of Mistlefoe
“Come in, kid. I can hear you wheezing outside.”
It occurs to me, hearing Gramps’ voice from the other side of this door, that I didn’t even contemplate the possibility that he might’ve been at home this morning—like everybody else. I open the door and stand still, opening and closing my mouth until I recover myself enough to talk.
“How can someone who loves this place enough to spend Christmas morning here, ever want to sell it and retire?”
Gramps snorts from his seat by the desk, fingers laced above his belly in the picture of serenity. “Maybe because, if you’re the new owner, I can still come and go as I please without having any of the responsibility.”
“Gramps—”
“No, I thought long and hard about this.” He raises the palm of his knobby, wrinkly hand and it effectively shuts me up. “This is the way we both get what we want. I can finally retire and rest these old bones, you get to still use this place to pass on a legacy.”
I swallow hard, trying to clear the lump that keeps growing in my throat but not quite succeeding. My voice comes out all garbled. “Stop making it sound like you’re going to die tomorrow or something.”
He shrugs as if this wasn’t a big deal. “Probably not tomorrow but sooner than later, so stop looking like you’re going to shit bricks.”
“I—” Shaking my head hard, I say, “Of course that terrifies me, but right now I have a different concern.”
“What now?”
I shake the papers in the air. “Ever thought that I might not be able to afford this? That’s why I worked so hard for the event, because the ten grand will ease things a bit but not enough. It’s nowhere near enough to buy the whole damn place.”
“But it could make a decent down payment for, you know, a loan.” He opens his eyes in a way that is the purest definition of sarcasm. I’m not tight lipped about my finances with him, and he knows I have a near perfect credit score. A loan is definitely possible.
“Fine, say I get a loan and buy the place. Then what? I still have a full time job.”
“But you’d have the best part-timer you could dream of. This guy,” he says, pointing both thumbs at his chest.
My eyebrows shoot up. “What about retirement?”
“I did say I thought long and hard about this, didn’t I? Full retirement, just wondering what I’m going to do with my day everyday, or doing the same thing Monday through Sunday, doesn’t really suit me.”
That sounds about right, and I bet the one person he’d turn all that free energy on would be me.Thatis a truly brick-shitting concept.
I’m sold—or I should say, I’ll buy. I’m now so on board with this idea that if my body were to produce a single ounce more of adrenaline, I’d shoot through the roof. If today wasn’t Christmas, I’d turn back around and march into the nearest bank to request a loan. But I guess that’ll be my plan for the new year.
“Can you give me a discount?” I ask, tucking my tongue against my cheek.
“No. This is how you’ll fund my extremely low wage as a part-timer.”
I break into a grin. “Thanks, Gramps.”
“Merry Christmas, kid.” Grunting, he waves a hand for me to leave. “Now, go get your other present.”
“Huh?”
“Just go.” He purposely shifts his attention to some random paperwork, and I have no option but to walk away.
There are no other wrapped boxes or suspicious looking things lining the hallway, other than the same stains that have decorated the wall paint for at least a decade. I walk out to the corridor behind the seats, where a few days ago we had booths teeming with people. Once I’m the new owner of this place, we’ll have more events like to bring in more income—anything I can think of to sustain the hockey program.
I keep walking to the entrance when a sound stops me in my tracks.
Someone’s skating on the ice.
I’m pretty sure the place is closed to the public today, thus no one should be out there skating. I change direction to take the steps down to the ice, and I immediately recognize the skater.
“Sierra?”
She tries to brake but doesn’t have the chops to do it properly, and she comes crashing down. Before I know it, I’m tossing the contract aside and my car keys, not even caring where they fall as I rush to the ice.
