Page 30 of O Goalie Night
“Only a little.” Jacob has been one of the most supportive new colleagues I’ve met since I started. He’s always popping his head into my classroom to check on me and ask if I need anything. “I’ll bring you something stronger at the staff party next week.”
The Christmas staff party is being held at one of the vice principals’ homes next Friday night and I’m looking forward to getting to know more of my new coworkers better.
“So what type of party is it?” So far I’ve only been given a time and place so I want to make sure I’m prepared and dressed appropriately. “Casual drinks and food? Or more formal? Will there be games? Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with that but if I’m going to be forced to play charades, I need a bit of warning.”
“The first kind, thank God,” Tamara answers as she joins us. “It’s very low key. If we play any games, they’re drinking games.”
“Perfect,” I sigh with relief unwrapping my sandwich and starting to eat my lunch. I used a fancy balsamic and black pepper mustard that I found in Foster’s fridge on my Montreal smoked meat on rye sandwich and it is just delightful.
“I hope there isn’t a hockey game on,” she groans, stabbing her salad with a fork. “Last year, all the men were in the living room watching tv and the women were all in the kitchen getting drunk.” She pauses, contemplatively. “Come to think of it, it was lovely. Go sports team.”
“The Otters don’t play next Friday. They’re in Boston next Saturday,” Jacob pipes up as he returns to the table with his own cup of coffee.
I shake my head, swallowing the food in my mouth. “No, they’re in Boston next Thursday and next Saturday is a home game.”
Is it weird that I’ve memorised the team’s schedule for the next couple of weeks? Given that I’m living with one of the players, it seems perfectly logical to me.
Tamara quirks an eyebrow at me while Jacob pulls out his phone looking confused.
“Huh. You’re right. I could have sworn they were in Boston next Saturday,” he says looking at me with renewed interest. “You follow hockey?”
Here’s the thing. Most people back home know who I am. People have been watching my brother with interest since he was six years old and I can’t remember a time when I’ve been anything other than Ben Michael’s sister to the general population. And while I don’t plan to deny the fact that my brother is an NHL defenseman, I also wasn’t going to volunteer the information. Not yet, at least.
I take another bite of my sandwich, chewing thoroughly and swallowing before replying, “I do.”
“That’s awesome,” Jacob appears legitimately excited to learn this. “We should go to a game sometime. I can get us good seats.” He adds with fake modesty, “I know a guy.”
I hide a smile.Me too.
“Sure,” I say with a shrug. I wonder how he would react if he knew who my brother is.
Or who my roommate is.I feel the colour rise in my cheeks again at the thought of Foster’s texts. While he’s been travelling for most of the two weeks I’ve been staying with him, I have really enjoyed getting to know him better. I think we’re becoming good friends.
Which means I really need to bury this juvenile crush I have on him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be on second duty, Jacob?” Tamara gives him a pointed look.
“Oh shit.” Jacob stands and starts to leave beforestopping and backtracking. “Let me know if you need a drive to the party next week, Beth?”
“I’m already taking her,” Tamara says in a singsong voice.
“Right.” He’s clearly disappointed as he’s pulling on his coat. “I’ll see you ladies later.”
The moment he’s gone and we’re alone, she turns to me. “He wants to woo you.” There’s no teasing in her tone; she says it like she’s stating a fact.
“No he doesn’t.” Wait. Does he?
“Oh yes he fucking does. He’s already started wooing.”
“I’m not being wooed. I would know if wooing was taking place.”
“Beth, that boy was pitching woo all over you. The entire room is covered in it. It absolutely reeks of woo in here.”
“I don’t think that’s how wooing works.”
“Maybe not. No one has wooed me in quite some time. But I recognize the act when I see it. The question is, do you want to be wooed?”
I give myself a moment to consider her question. Jacob seems like a really nice guy. He’s nice-looking and employed and heaven knows I could do worse. But I don’t get that flutter of excitement when I’m around him. When he smiles at me, I think “that’s a nice smile” and that’s as far as it goes.
