Page 18 of O Goalie Night
“This is not your day, Fozzie Bear,” Austin says as he slaps me on the back with his hand. I swat it away like you would any pest. “If poker is too challenging, we could play something more your speed. Go Fish, perhaps?”
“The authorities will have togo fishyour body out of the canal after I drown you in it.” This earns me a round of laughter from my teammates seated around the table.
Will makes a disgusted face and shudders. “Imagine the diseases you’d catch in that filthy excuse for a body of water.”
“Crawford’s probably already got every STI known to man,” Ben snickers. “What’s a few more?”
“Hey!” Austin protests. “I”ll have you know I have aced every blood test I’ve ever taken, thank you very much. I always wrap the Prince before any action.”
We stare at him, horrified.
“Austin,” Will says patiently. “Please tell me you did not just refer to your dick as ‘the Prince.’”
He shrugs. “That’s his name.”
“I know I’m going to regret asking this, but why?” Will asks.
Austin forms twin pistols with his hands and points to his own chest. “Because his daddy’s the King!”
Everyone collectively throws their cards at a very pleased-looking Austin, groaning.
“I swear, I get stupider the more time I spend with you.” Ben gives him a look of pure disdain.
There’s a surprising amount of downtime for professional hockey players. Yes, there’s plenty of travel, games, and practices, but in between that there’s a lot of hours to kill. In the evenings, a lot of the single guys go out looking for hookups, but during the day we tend to go through cycles of how we keep ourselves busy. Depending on where we’re playing, we might go golfing or sometimes there’s gaming in someone’s hotel room. Lately, we’ve been passing the time with poker.
Why this poker game always seems to happen in my hotel room, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the price I pay for not being a slob like everyone else.
I need to leave soon for warm ups and I’d have a much easier time getting my head in the game if I know Beth got along okay at school.
Fuck it.
I leave my friends at the makeshift poker table and make my way to the in-suite kitchenette typing out a quick text.
Foster: How did it go?
The reply bubbles appear and then disappear.
“We’re starting the next hand,” Ben calls to me from the table.
“Play without me.”
“We can’t play with three guys, man.”
“Then don’t play.”
“Fozz, come on. Please?”
Normally, I would, but, to be honest, I’m annoyed with him. He hasn’t mentioned Beth once since we left on Friday. On top of that, I haven’t forgotten the dig he took at my own family situation.
I don’t think you’re one to give out family advice.
He’s not wrong, but I didn’t appreciate the reminder.
I think about my brother Cody a lot, but especially this time of year. With less than two years between us, we were inseparable when we were younger. He’s going to be thirty-one next month. The last time I saw him on his birthday, he was turning twenty-one. He’d gotten so drunk, I needed two other guys to help me get him home.
The urge to reach out and see how he’s doing always gets stronger around Christmas, but I never do. Almost ten years ago he told me to lose his number and I haven’t spoken to him since.
My phone starts to vibrate with an incoming call from Beth and I start for the door. Regardless of what she’s calling about, I know I don’t want to have this conversation in front of her brother, let alone the others.
