Page 30 of Just My Puck
Our eyes meet, and we both burst into laughter. The humor of the moment takes over, and every time we glance at each other, another bout of laughter ripples through us. I’m now holding my stomach, my abs aching. It’s been a while since I’ve laughed like that.
“Oh, gosh,” she says, drying her tears. “I can’t believe I almost burned down your kitchen.” A single chuckle slips through.
“I know.” I hold the counter for support, the movement bringing me just a little closer to her. “I can’t even imagine what I'd do if something had happened to you.” Our eyes lock again, and this time, it isn’t the frying pan that’s on fire. A scorching heat burns in our gaze. She’s beautiful and so brave. I’ve only known her for a few days, but just the thought of her being hurt makes me lose my mind. I swallow hard. “Just glad you’re okay, Aria.”
“Don’t worry, I vow not to touch the stove ever again,” she says with a small nod before averting her gaze.
“Oh, come on. You just need to learn, that’s all. But I guess that’s enough cooking for one night. How about we order some food again?”
“Might be wiser.”
We go for Chinese this time, andlike before, I choose a sampling of dishes. Everyone at the shelter was thrilled when I brought pizza this morning. I’m sure they’ll love this too.
We clean up the kitchen, and just as we’re finishing up, the delivery woman brings our food. We sit at the dining table, an impressive spread in front of us, and Aria discovers she really likes spring rolls and duck.
It’s nice, having someone to come home to, not eating dinner solo. For the first time, I allow myself to dream about this. Dating someone. Having my girlfriend cheering for me at games, making dinner together, going on vacations. Then, one of my chopsticks clatters to the table, bringing me out of my reverie. A dream. That’s all it can ever be. Because I know how it would look in reality, and more importantly, how it would end up.
I shake the thought out of my head, looking at Aria again. “Oh, I wanted to ask you something. I have a game tomorrow night, here at home, before a streak of away games. Would you like to come? The girls will be there, of course. It could be fun. Besides, you’ve got to start making use of those lifetime tickets.”
She flashes a smile. “Sure. That sounds great. Who are you playing against?”
“The Philadelphia Panthers.”
“Are they good?”
I grin. “Not as good as us. We won our last two games against them, so we’re feeling confident.”
“I hope you win.” She takes a sip of water, then clears her throat. “So, about these away games, how long will you be gone?”
Right, I didn’t even register that I’d be leaving Aria for the first time. And that she’ll be alone in my house. “A week. I’m sorry it’s so soon, but I don’t really have a choice. The NHL schedule is brutal. I could always ask one of the girls to move in here while we’re gone, or you could come along. The girls do sometimes.” The idea of Aria being at my away games warms my chest and makes my heart beat a little faster.
Her cheeks redden. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t want to impose. Plus, I have my appointments, and Dr. Stuart insisted on me having a routine and doing regular, everyday stuff. Going on a hockey tour or whatever definitely doesn’t exactly fit the bill.”
I scratch my temple. “Right. Are you going to be okay here alone?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t attempt to cook anymore. I’ll stick to microwaved or uncooked food. Much safer for me—and for your kitchen. Honestly, I’m kind of a mess,” she sighs.
“No you’re not.” I reach for her hand, but then I realize we barely know each other, so I grab an extra spring roll instead, even though I was done. One more can’t hurt. “It’ll take some time for you to learn everything. That’s only natural. Don’t push too hard, and give yourself a chance to heal.”
She looks down at the table and nods. I wish I knew what to tell her to ease her doubts and frustration. If only I had the keys to her past so I could answer all her questions.
“Shiver me timbers, I’m stuffed,” she says, leaning back against her chair. “Thank ye for this sustenance.”
I shake my head, grinning. “You’re welcome. Since you’ll be—hopefully—ditching the patch tomorrow, does that mean it’s the end of Pirate Aria?”
Her smile widens. “Yep. I think that ship will sail away.”
I drop my shoulders. “Aw, that’s a shame. I loved having her around.”
“Well, I hope she never comes back,” she says with a chuckle. “I can’t wait to see with both eyes again. Fingers crossed that day will be tomorrow. Especially since I’ll be watching a hockey game.”
After chatting about hockey, we clear the table and put the food that’s destined for the shelter in the fridge, setting aside some leftovers for Aria tomorrow.
“Oh, I wanted to ask, do you have any pens I can use?” she asks, drying her hands on the dish towel. “I have to keep this journal for my therapy, and I’m not a fan of the pen the doc gave me.”
“Sure. I have some in my office upstairs. Feel free to take one.”
She sets the towel down. “Okay. I’ll go have a look.”
