Page 42 of The Cutting Edge
“Hey Logan, can I get an autograph?” He spins around and points to my name and number on his back. “Look, dude, I’m wearing your jersey! That hat trick last night was EPIC!”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate your support out there.” I really want to get in my car and drive home to see Poppy, or just be alone with my thoughts in the car for twenty minutes, but instead, I say, “Sure, I’m happy to!” as I pull one of the ever-present sharpies out of my pocket. “What do you want me to sign? And who should I make it out to?“
“To Bobby, “ he says, jittery with enthusiasm. “B-O-B-B-B-Y”
“With three Bs in the middle?” I check. Weirder things have happened, but I don’t want to wreck this guy’s shirt.
“Three? Oh, haha. No, it’s B-O-B-B-Y. I can’t believe I forgot how to spell my own name!”
“That’s cool,” I say, “I got so excited when I met Phil Kessler the first time a few years ago that I could have easily forgottenmyname,” I say as I scroll my signature and jersey number near his left shoulder.
We say our goodbyes, and as I get into my SUV, I can see the guy punching the air and yelling, “Whoop!” I love that my job makes other people so happy.
I can’t stop thinking about how to make it up to Coco, as I pull out of the parking lot and head towards home.
When I arrive at my house, Poppy runs into my arms and kisses me all over my cheeks before I even have a chance to set my practice bag down inside the front door.
“Daddy!”
“Poppy! “
She’s wearing her favorite pajamas, the purple ones with a little figure, skaters all over them mid-twirl.
Her dark curly hair is still damp, and it’s apparent she just got out of the bathtub. That’s good news, one more item off the to-do list.
Rufus, our gigantic Irish wolfhound, comes bounding up to the front door and practically knocks me over. The dog is as tall as I am on his hind legs, but he has no idea he’s not a puppy anymore.
He’s barking, and chasing his wagging tail in a circle, drooling excitedly, and bringing with him a loving, chaotic energy.
This insanity is my favorite part of the day. Me, Poppy, and Rufus. ?
“Daddy, did you see Miss Coco at the hospital today?”
Setting my practice bag down on the bench in the entryway, I tell her, “I did, sweetie. She looked a little better today.”
“Will she be at skating class tomorrow?” She asks, her big brown eyes brimming with concern.
“No, sweetie, probably not. She has to stay in the hospital until her doctors say it’s safe for her to go back to skating.”
“I would die if that happened to me,” Poppy says dramatically while shaking her head in disbelief. “Skating is my favorite thing in the whole world. And I know it’s Miss Coco’s favorite thing in the whole world too. She told me.”
“I hope she’ll be feeling better soon,” I say.
“Did you give her my drawing?”
I don’t know how to answer my daughter or tell her that I didn’t have a chance because Coco is rightly pissed at me for decimating her life. “I left it for her at the hospital,” I say. Not a lie, but I’m not exactly being straight with Poppy either.
I am embarrassed, and I need to figure out a way to make it right. Not just so I can hold my head up around my daughter, but because I want to make things right for Coco.
She kisses my cheeks again. “Let me see your hands.”
I hold my free one up to her face, and she turns it around to inspect my nails. “I expected this. You need a manicure. I’ll be right back.”
Poppy squirms until I set her back down on the floor, and she and Rufus go bounding off in the direction of her bedroom.
I head back to the kitchen to see what Chef left me for dinner. A lot of the guys on the team have their food prepped and delivered by Chef Julia, who makes sure all of our meals and snacks contain the right amount of proteins, fats, macros, and the like, for training. Sometimes it’s delicious; sometimes it tastes too much like weeds and not enough like a bacon double cheeseburger. But it’s always convenient, and for me, that’s 90% of the battle.
Rosie is busy cleaning up Poppy’s dinner dishes in the sink. Mostly the two of us eat dinner together, although Poppy’s meal plan includes more macaroni and cheese than mine. Initially, I gave Poppy the same food I was eating, until it became clear that Rufus was actually the one secretly getting the ideal combination of proteins, fats, and carbs for a pro athlete. Like me, Rufus also prefers bacon double cheeseburgers.
