Page 36 of Three Pucking Words
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Two hours laterI’m in a car with Sylvia, who refused to let me take an Uber or train all the way to Jersey despite my persistence. Public transit may not be my favorite thing, but neither is coming up with small talk.
We manage to pass the first forty minutes with conversation on the abnormally nice weather and how work is going. Apparently, she also didn’t know that “Ohio” has nothing to do with the state when someone is using it in a sentence. Which is something I learned after I had to reply to a comment saying that Coach Erikson’s reaction to the puck being stolen from Sebastian Henderson was “so Ohio”. It still makes me wonder why they chose that state and not another one like…Nebraska. But the more I think on it, the more I go down a rabbit hole I’m not sure I want to stay inside.
Sylvia has the same smile on her face as usual, making me wonder how somebody can bethathappy all the time. It’s unfamiliar territory for me. In fact, I’m convinced my mothersurgically removed the muscles in her face that allowed her lips to curve upward at the corners.
Well, it was more than likely the Botox. But still.
“It’s nice to see you’re hanging out with Bodhi again,” she says, her eyes a warm shade of blue that aren’t quite as pretty as Bodhi’s, but still nice. “He’s a good boy. A goodman.”
Her correction isn’t lost on me. There is not one part of Bodhi that can be described as “boyish” in any way, shape, or form. I would know. I used to spend way too much time staring at his pictures online like a weirdo.
“He’s been helpful since moving back,” I reply, twiddling my fingers in my lap. My eyes scan the map on her screen that she hasn’t looked at once. “Have you been to his house before?”
Sylvia smiles at me as we roll to a stop behind a long toll of traffic. “Your father and I helped him move into his current house. Took half as long as expected with the manpower after we got a few others from the team to help out. You should have seen his last place. It wasn’t fit for a child. It was too small with no real lawn or backyard for Gemma to play in. He upgraded his whole life for her.”
There’s a softness to her tone—a loving admiration that tells me she cares for Bodhi and Gemma. From what I’ve seen in my short time here, he may be her favorite from the team. Nobody else from the team has come to dinner, and she rarely speaks about the others unless she’s talking to my father about a game. “He wanted to pick me up, but Gemma is at a sleepover tonight,” I tell her, feeling like I need to offer some information since she’s going out of her way to drive me.
She said his house isn’t far from where she goes once a week for wine night, but I don’t know if I believe her or if my father put her up to this because he’s worried about me getting around. Last week, he lectured me about how to safely ride the subway. Which ended in him researching where he could buy me maceand a taser, followed by him saying he would pay for a driver if it meant me never stepping foot onto the LIRR—the Long Island Railroad, or the subway at Penn.
Leaning my head against the rest behind me, I murmur, “I don’t know if my appeal will go through to the DMV to get my license back, so it makes travelling a little more difficult these days. And Dad hates the idea of me doing what millions of people do all the time in the city. Do you know what he brought to the guest house?”
Sylvia shakes her head, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “No. What?”
“Arapewhistle.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, Devin…”
I nod. “Yeah.”
After a few seconds, she snorts. “It’s…thoughtful.”
I can’t help but smile a little. “I guess so. Still unnecessary, though. Plus, how many people actually get attacked travelling?”
She’s quiet, which makes me stare at her.
“Is it really that many?” I ask, wincing.
She sighs. “It’s more than your father would like knowing you use the transit.”
My other alternatives are to be chauffeured around by everybody or pay an abysmal amount of money on ride shares. “He told me he’d hire the black car service, but that seems a bit much.”
“He cares, Honor. He doesn’t want to see anything happen to you.”
I have to force myself from squirming in my seat. “My mom and I used to take the subway all the time. Sometimes, we’d do it for fun. She’d say it was an adventure.”
A tiny smile tilts my lips as I look out the window. I used to enjoy those days with her, when she seemed so carefreeand loving. But then those adventures turned into errands that usually ended up at a bodega that sold alcohol and cigarettes.
“Have you heard from your mother recently?” she asks softly.
My lips twist in thought as I try recalling the last time we spoke. “No. I don’t even know where she is orwhoshe’s with. Last I knew, she was seeing some guy down in Texas.”
I wouldn’t be shocked if Mom thought he was involved in the oil industry. She’s always been money motivated. The number of boyfriends she had when I was younger was astronomical, and they were always in fields that had high salaries and expensive tastes. Once she was over one, she’d find another to dote on her.
Sylvia’s smile drops a fraction. “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping things were different by now.”
Yeah. Me too.
