Page 25 of Wrapped Around My Heart
“We should probably go grab a bite to eat before the period is over and the lines get long,” Lilly says, pushing to her feet. I glance at the clock just below the jumbo screen and nod when I notice there are only five minutes left.
Stella stands too, holding a hand out for Harper, who shakes her head and clings to my arm.
“But the game is still going!”
“Yes, but you said you wanted chicken tenders and fries. If we don’t go now, you’ll have to wait in a really long line to get them,” Stella tells her with a level of patience that I admire.
“But what if they score and I miss it?” Harper’s bottom lip juts out into an adorable pout and it’s enough to win me over.
“How about this,” I say, hugging Harper with one arm while reaching for my wallet with my free hand. “Food is on me, but you guys have to go get it while we continue watching the game.”
“Yeah! Let’s do that, Mama!” Harper squeals, wiggling against my hold, and I finally have to let her go. I don’t know what’s made my stomach turn into knots, but holding a squirming child is not helping any. While she gets situated back in her seat, I offer Stella my card.
“Seriously, I can keep an eye on her.”
Stella hesitates only for a second before waving a hand in dismissal at my offered payment.
“Pretty sure you paid for last week’s meals, so this is on me. Cheesesteak and fries?” When I nod, she points a finger at Harper. “You be good for Arianna.”
“I always am,” Harper says at the same time I say, “She always is.”
Stella laughs before turning to follow Lilly.
Sure enough, with only twenty seconds left in the first period, within moments of hitting the ice after another line change, Greyson scores. Harper and I both shoot out of our seats, high-fiving each other while jumping up and down in celebration. As the guys on the ice line up for the final few seconds, Harper squeals about how she can’t wait to tell Stella about the goal Grey made. I sit back down, laughing with her, and slowly sip on my water.
We watch the rest of the period, clapping when the buzzer goes off and the announcer shouts the score of three to one at the end of the first. Harper and I make predictions for what the second period will look like. The kid might only be six, but she is picking up on this sport better than some grown adults do.
Stella and Lilly return a few minutes later with their arms full of food. While Harper dives right in to eating her chicken tenders, she tells Stella and Lilly all about the goal they missed. Literally, she gives them a play-by-play as if she’s an announcer herself and it makes all of us smile. For as proud of my brother as I am when it comes to his hockey career, this kid might have me beat with her pride for her father’s game.
While she goes on about the game, pausing periodically to dance and sing whatever is playing overhead, I finally dig into my cheesesteak. It’s one of my favorite things to get when coming to a game. Or when going out anywhere, but the ones made here at SweetHeart Arena are my favorites. There’s no doubt that I eat one every week during hockey season.
Except, when I take my first bite, ready to do my happy dance at the delicious taste, my stomach sinks.
I chew slowly, frowning at my food and trying to figure out what about it tastes off. Once I swallow, I take a sip of Coke and clear it from my mouth before going back for another bite.
Which is a mistake.
My stomach churns again, but this time, it doesn’t settle back down. I slap a hand over my mouth and shoot to my feet. It’s an effort to be polite as I slide from our row, and I’m pretty sure Stella and Lilly call after me, but I don’t pause.
The feeling in my gut rises, and I pick up my pace, rushing up the stairs and silently praying to whoever listens that I can make it to the bathroom. I love this arena, but sticking my face near any of these trash cans is not something I want to do.
Luckily, the closest women’s bathroom doesn’t have a line spilling out the door and I rush in just as a stall door opens. What little control I had over my stomach chooses to finally slip just as I make it in front of the toilet. I bend over, refusing to kneel on the public bathroom floor while losing those few bites of cheesesteak and more. And once I start, it doesn’t stop.
A hand on my back startles me, reminding me I didn’t lock the stall door in my rush, before Stella’s soothing voice hits my ears. She offers gentle reassurances, rubbing in small circles with one hand while taking my ponytail in the other. With my hands now free, I brace them on my thighs to help support my weight.
After a couple minutes, with Stella still comforting me, it finally stops. My stomach twists and turns, making me move slowly as I stand.
“Are you okay?” Stella asks, finally releasing my hair and giving me as much space as she can in the tight confines of the bathroom stall.
I dip my head in a clipped nod, not wanting to move too quickly in fear of triggering my stomach to revolt against me again.
Stella eyes me warily before turning to unlock the stall door.
“I think I have some mouthwash in my purse.”
I groan, following her to the sinks, and wash my hands while she digs through her bag and hands me a travel-size bottle of mouthwash.
“I’m not even gonna ask why you have this with you because you’re a lifesaver.”
