Page 86 of Thoroughly Pucked

That demand is going to start next week at training camp. My fingers tingle at the thought of getting back on the ice.

“You could just get a plant sitter,” she offers.

That’s a valid idea, but here’s another one. A dangerous one. One where I almost say something like “Or maybe you could take care of them when I go out of town and then we will see you when we return?”

But that is not,notgoing to happen.

This ends when the trip ends.

I dodge the topic, turning it back around. “Do these plants make you happy?”

She considers the money tree some more, running her polished nails along its leaves. “I think they could. They’re like a mango smoothie. The contented sigh of a dog. A good haircut. Getting your nails done. Going shopping with friends and finding a great discount. Listening to a song that just feels like it moves your soul. I think all of those things do it.” She drops her hand from the plant with a happy sigh and turns to me. “What about you? What makes you happy?”

Improving my stats as a goalie like—shots against and save percentage. Not to mention winning it all.

But also,this second.

The problem is I keep thinking about next week,too, and the antsy feeling that kicks in when the season nears. The urge to skate. To spend my time on the ice, to work out harder, faster, better. The tingle in my fingers. The buzzing in my bones.

A few seconds later, Aubrey tilts her head. “What are you thinking, Dev?”

Oh. I drifted off. “Hockey,” I admit.

“You miss it.”

It’s a relief to just tell the truth. “I can’t wait for it to start. I just want to play.”

I want to dominate. I want to crush the competition. I don’t say those things because I’ll sound like an athlete with a one-track mind.

She smiles, understanding. “See? You do need plants. You need them to unwind at the end of an intense day.”

Is that what I need to balance all this drive? I’m not sure anything could be a strong enough counterweight.

Aubrey nods toward Ledger. “I’m going to join him.”

I let her go, staying back, checking out plants I know I’ll never get.

As she joins him, I watch from a distance. They look good together. I pick up bits and pieces of their convo. He mentions a plant shop he goes to in the city—Late Bloomer. She says she’ll check it out someday. Then, I tune them out, letting them have their moment. Seeing them enjoying each other’s company like this makes me happy enough right here, right now. But I also feel like I don’t quite fit. Like they’re both at a certain place, and I’m not sure I’m there.

Or that I want to be.

No matter how much bigger these feelings for Aubrey grow by the day. No, by the hour.

And really, no matter how big they get, they still aren’t going anywhere after.

40

MELT YOUR HEART

Ledger

“Time to confess. Where did your plant daddy side come from?” Aubrey asks as we walk along Robson Street, passing eclectic local shops peddling candles and stationery alongside flashy designer brand-name stores hawking handbags and sunglasses. We’re en route to a dinner place she’s picked out.

She won’t tell us what it is. It’s part of herspoil usplan.

I do want to answer her question, but the more I let down my guard with her, the more I want to let it down. I’ve still got the wounds from my marriage ending. On the other hand, can Aubrey really hurt me? Come Saturday, we say goodbye. I’ll be back with my monkey plants, my mean cat, and the ticking clock of the big decision looming over me.

“Can’t a guy just like plants?” I say, avoiding the topic a little longer.

---