TWO DAYS LATER, I sat in the stands near the ice with my notes, watching a practice. I waited for Dad, who had texted me to tell me that he was at a doctor’s appointment. We had two defense men who wanted to retire after this season. I would have no part in the decision about who we’d contract to replace those positions, but Dad expected me to present him with my ideas as if I was.
There was a break in practice. I felt concerned that Dad hadn’t made it back yet.
Me: Everything okay?
Dad: Had a couple routine tests. Pulling up to the stadium now
Me: I’m still at practice
Dad: Wait for me near the ice
I studied my notes.
“You’re cute sitting there.”
I smiled and lifted my head.
Max, dripping wet with sweat, leaned against his stick. Something inside me eased up. Sunny Max was back. Whatever internal debate he had been fighting, my side had won. For now.
I gave him a saucy smile, “How’s it going?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you.”
“Your fancy skating moves impressed me.”
His smile made my toes curl. “So, you want to go on a date?”
“With whom?” I pretended to look around for a suitable candidate.
“Smart ass.”
“Does it involve sex?”
“It could.”
“Sold. When and where?”
Baxter skated up and glanced between the two of us.
“What’s going on?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
He glared up at me. “You have no business coming here and distracting the players.”
“Excuse me?”
Max interjected. “Baxter, we’re all on break.”
Baxter ignored Max and glared up at me. “If you can’t contribute anything, at least refrain from bothering the players.”
Max moved closer to Baxter, staring him down. “I came over to talk to her, not the other way around. And I was discussing business.”
Baxter glared up at me, and as he turned to skate away, he spoke in a low voice. “Slut.”
Too stunned to respond, I sat frozen.
Max moved his stick, caught Baxter’s skate and yanked. Baxter tripped hard and landed on his chest. Without equipment on, I knew that fall had hurt.
“You okay, coach?” Max skated to his side and stopped short, spraying his face with ice.
“Fuck you.”
“What?” Max asked with an innocent expression.
“You tripped me,” Baxter rolled over and climbed to his feet to face Max. “Fuck you.”
“You’re mistaken.”
Baxter faced Max with a murderous expression.
“You’re going to pay for that.”
Everyone on the ice stopped to turn and watch.
Baxter swung for Max’s face. Max didn’t even bother to move and he let Baxter’s fist connect with his chin.
My hand covered my mouth when Max tossed off his gloves and dropped his stick.
Max wanted to fight.
Max pushed Baxter against his chest. Baxter flailed back, nearly losing his balance, but he stayed upright.
Baxter swung again, but this time, Max ducked back, avoiding getting hit.
Dad appeared beside me. “What the hell’s going on?”
Max pulled Baxter’s jacket over his head, and he got in three hard right shots on Baxter’s face.
“Enough!” Dad barked.
Max let go of Baxter. He picked up his gloves and stick, circling. Staring up at Dad with a hard to read expression.
Baxter pulled his jacket off his face. Blood spurted out of his nose. He froze when he spotted Dad. He pointed at Max, “This fucker has to go.”
“Both of you. In my office. Now!”
Dad turned and walked up the steps. Eyes wide, I threw a worried glance towards Max, before I scrambled after Dad.
Dad seethed. “Want to tell me what is going on?”
I could barely keep up with Dad. “Players were on break and Logan skated up. We hadn’t spoken two sentences when Baxter came up and told me I had no business being in practice because I was distracting his players. As he skated away, he called me a derogatory name and Max tripped him. Baxter got up and hit him in the face.”
“I saw that part.” He stopped walking. “Why is Max always in the middle of your shit?”
“He’s not, but you can’t deny that Baxter hates me and he hates Max.”
“That’s an excuse.”
“That’s the truth, Dad. You want to tell me why Baxter has hated me from day one?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know that Baxter wanted to be assistant GM. I also know you fought Baxter for Max instead of Joseph.”
“Joseph Flanynk is about two drinks away from being an alcoholic.”
“You keep blaming Max or me for all the shit that happens with Baxter, but have you ever considered that Baxter might instigate this stuff because he doesn’t like us?”
“Max should have never tripped him.”
“He was protecting me.”
“Are you saying I’m not?”
“Dad!” I grabbed his hand. “No. I’m trying to prevent you from blaming the wrong person in this situation.”
“Who should I blame?”
“Baxter!”
Dad stared down at me. “I don’t want you in this meeting.”
“What?”
“I will give Logan a fine.”
“What about Baxter?”
“I’ll deal with him.”
I could not understand the blind spot Dad had for Baxter. Without responding, I turned on my heel and walked away.
THAT NIGHT, my phone rang. It was Max.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
Worry laced my voice. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“Nothing, I only got a fine.”
“Max! I’m so sorry.”
He laughed. “Baxter got a bigger one.”
“Really?”
“All good.”
“Thanks for standing up for me.” I meant it. I appreciated how protective he was.
“I would have done a lot more to that asshole if we hadn’t been in practice.”
That I believed. “Be careful, okay?”
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Yes.”
“My uncle is coming to town this weekend to watch one of my games.”
“Yes!”
I could hear the smile in his voice. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m in.”
“I’d like to get him a decent seat for the game.”
“I can take him out for dinner first.”
“You’d do that?”
“I’d love to.”
“Thanks, babe.”
My heart squeezed at the term of endearment.
