Page 113 of Wrong Pucking Jersey

I lean back in the passenger seat, phone in hand, while Dimitri puts the car in park. Today was medical inventory run day for the Vipers. Honestly, after the crazy week the team had, with canceled and rescheduled games, I was glad to do something different aside from jumping on various planes in a rush.

I was still debating whether it was a blessing or a curse to have two of our opponent teams back down when we arrived in their province to compete. That’s exactly what happened, with us having to travel with many of our essential equipment, medications, first aid kits, and all the other fancy things you’d unexpectedly need when a player gets injured on the ice.

Only Air Canada lost our bags.

Thankfully, I brought a carry-on thanks to Dimitri’s suggestion. If I hadn’t, my stuff would have been lost like Mack’s, Doctor Francisco, and Caren with a C.

That was why we had to go to the pharmacy farther North two hours away to restock double the amount for our inventory since Air Canada couldn’t guarantee when we’d get our bags back.

I don’t know why we didn’t think of putting Air tags in our medical luggage, but that was another lesson we learned at the expense of purchasing two thousand worth of medication and medical supplies—that’s after insurance coverage for the team.

Sorry to Mr. Champion’s pockets.

Surprisingly, he didn’t seem mad. Said that most medication has long expiring dates, so once Air Canada does discover our luggage and returns it, we’ll do a detailed run-through of what can be salvaged and move forward.

Acknowledge the problem.

Discover the solution.

Prepare for loss.

Recover and move forward.

The two-hour ride wasn’t a big deal, and everything went smoothly, but now we were stuck.

“There had to be some sort of accident up ahead or something because we’ve been stuck in this exact spot for forty minutes,” Dimitri concludes as he puts the car in park.

We really aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Since this was a nurse-related scenario, we were wearing our scrubs. Dimitri was wearing a black set with light blue outlines along the neckline and pockets. Mine were vibrant red with navy-blue outlines along the V-neck and pockets. I was still wearing my stethoscope around my neck, the dark blue piece of equipment being one out of many in my “color” collection.

Yes, I’m one of those odd nurses who buy stethoscopes in different colors to match my scrubs. Bite me.

“If there’s an accident, how the hell is the ambulance going to come through with us jam-packed like sardines on a one-way street?” I question in irritation. I don’t like sitting in one place for too long unless I’m distracted. Spikes my anxiety up otherwise.

“You good?” Dimitri asks, observing me carefully.

Peering back at him leaves me groaning and sinking in my seat.

“Mack always says I’m an open book,” I grumble.

“You are.” Dimitri doesn’t deny it. “But I understand if you’re irritated and want to step out of the car. It’s a bit suffocating when you’re sitting in a boxed space with no estimated moving time.”

“I don’t want to get out and have to rush back in,” I admit. “I feel like I’ll be honked at for holding up this never-ending line of cars.”

“Hmmm.” Dimitri thinks about something.

Then he puts the car in drive and moves to the side of the road that’s inches from the thick forest.

“Dimitri?”I don’t understand what he’s doing.

“At this rate, we could walk back to the stadium,” he complains as he puts the car in park and turns off the engine. “We’re wasting unnecessary gas, and though I don’t think there’s going to be some sort of natural disaster, but it would be best for us to conserve our resources until we know we’re in the clear.” He looks a bit excited as he gives me his attention.

“We can pretend we’re playing hooky.”

“Hooky?” I laugh at the word alone. “O.M.G., that reminds me of when my dad would tell me ‘when he was my age’ stories.”

“James does the same,” Dimitri complains and cringes at the memories. “Yuck.”

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