Hockey Is My Boyfriend: Part Three

by Ting, Melanie

  “Thanks.” He draped an arm over her shoulder. “Emily, this is Kelly.”

  “Hi, Kelly.” Emily seemed genuinely friendly, which gave me a feeling of relief. If Emily had no idea who I was, then either he wasn’t a big sharer or I hadn’t affected him that much. I smiled back at her.

  “What do you do, Emily?” I asked.

  “I’m a lawyer,” she said. “I work for the Crown Prosecutor’s office.”

  Clearly, he had traded up. I always worried that I wasn’t smart enough for Phil. “That’s a tough job.”

  “Yes, but I promised Phil I wouldn’t talk shop and ruin the festive spirit. What do you do, Kelly?”

  “I work for C2C Sports,” I replied. Did I have to add junior-junior-junior reporter? I decided not.

  “That sounds great,” Emily said. She seemed to be settling in for a long chat, but Phil pulled on her arm. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Excuse us, Kelly.” They left without a backward look.

  My emotions did another seesaw. There was time when Phil couldn’t take his eyes off me, and now he couldn’t wait to get away. I gave my head a shake. I had been miserable about hurting Phil. Now he was happy, and he’d found someone new—and better. I didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

  I was chatting with Charmaine when April started whacking a spoon against her wineglass.

  “Could we have your attention, people,” she called out. With her acting background, she could really project her voice, and everyone hushed up right away.

  She looked up at Ben, who was standing right beside her.

  He cleared his throat. “While we have all our friends here, we wanted to tell you—we’re engaged!”

  A happy whoosh went through the living room. There was cheering and even clapping.

  “Oh my gosh, Kelly. I’m shocked,” Charmaine exclaimed. “I guess you knew this already.”

  I shook my head. “I had no idea.” Of course I knew that they were serious and Ben had given her an ultimatum the last time they broke up, but April had never breathed a word. For the second time tonight, I felt strangely forlorn. But that was selfish; April was happy, and that was the important thing.

  April danced over a few minutes later, flashing her new diamond ring.

  “It’s beautiful,” Charmaine said. We both stared at the big diamond, flanked by two smaller ones.”

  “Jeez, it’s bigger than the fake diamond on my fake engagement ring,” I declared.

  “Is everything okay with his parents?” Charmaine wondered. Ben’s mother was very strong-willed and had hoped he’d marry a Chinese girl.

  “Yes, she’s coming around. There’s been some discussion about me joining the family business.” Maybe Mrs. Cho recognized that April was a fellow human dynamo. “We told them first, of course.”

  April gave me a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Kelly.”

  “It’s okay,” I reassured her. “Have you set a date yet?” Thanks to my fake engagement, I knew all the right questions to ask when shown a ring.

  “Yes, May 16th, 2009. Mrs. Cho consulted the Chinese Almanac for auspicious dates.”

  “Wow, that’s not very far away,” I said.

  April looked guilty again. “I won’t leave you in the lurch, Kelly. We can move to a month-to-month lease after April 30, and I’ll be your roommate until the end of May. It gives you plenty of time to find a new roomie or find a place of your own.”

  “Don’t worry, April. I’ll be fine.” I was happy for her, and I didn’t want to bring down this happy occasion.

  “Of course, Ben wishes we could get married even earlier.” She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “A big wedding like this will take a lot of planning, but I’m up for it.”

  “You were born for this,” I told her, and we all laughed.

  Ben swooped in and took April away. Of all our high school friends, I always thought that Karen would get married first, but I was wrong about that. Of course, I always thought I’d be last, and that still looked like a good bet.

  * * *

  Because I had to work on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, my parents agreed to have an early Christmas dinner. Our house felt completely weird. My mom was a big collector, and every corner had been full of flowers, vases, artwork, and nature bits like seashells or branches. Now everything had been stashed or given away. The movers were coming on December 27th to take the furniture to storage.

  “Man, it’s like someone else’s house,” I said to my brother.

  Roger nodded. He was so mature and confident since he started his work co-op. He loved going to Waterloo. He had found his tribe there and really blossomed. We all had a fantastic dinner together, with much reminiscing and also looking forward to the future. My parents were so excited about their trip. I had never worried about money as I grew up, but now I wondered if my parents had made sacrifices so Roger and I could have everything we wanted. Because it was clear that they loved to travel.

  I didn’t tell my family how precarious my job situation was because I didn’t want them to worry about me. But I could tell my mom was still concerned.

  “So, April’s getting married in May? What will you do for a roommate?”

  “I don’t know. I can either find my own place or ask around.”

  “Something else to worry about. If only you were still going out with Phil, I would know there was still someone looking out for you.”

  “Mom! That’s so old-fashioned. Women look after themselves these days.” Just then Gino came into the dining room and rubbed up against my legs. “So, is Martha still planning to take Gino? Because now that April is leaving, maybe she’ll let me have him.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea if you might have to find a new place. So many rentals don’t take pets. Besides, you’re working ridiculous hours. How can you take care of a cat too?”

  My mom was right. If I took him, Gino would spend a lot of time alone. I didn’t even have enough extra energy in my life to love a cat.

  38

  Moose Hunting

  I was sitting in on the production meeting for the week’s upcoming Canucks games. Literally sitting in, because I had nothing to contribute and I never got assigned any work. But it was my way of getting stealth training. If nobody was going to help me, I’d have to help myself. I had to find out what was going on here, so I started coming to all the regular meetings. I always brought a box of doughnuts, so my presence was tolerated.

  “Okay, I’m looking at the holiday schedule here,” Bob Berndhardt blew out a spray of powdered sugar as he spoke. “What total asshole gave all the reporters time off at the same time?”

  “That would be Mr. Potato Head,” replied Smokey, who managed the technical crew. He using their private nickname for Brendan Williams, whose bald head did have a resemblance to a certain children’s toy.

  Bernie sighed. “What the fuck am I supposed to do with the Boxing Day broadcast? I’ve got a bare minimum crew to cover. Everything is okay, until the end when I’ve got one reporter on the ice and nobody in the dressing room. Any of you guys actually in town that day?”

  Everyone shook their heads and muttered things about Toronto, Calgary, or the Gulf Islands.

  “Then who’s our on-call—” He shuffled through some papers and finally found the right one. “Oh shit.”

  His eyes met mine. “You ready for prime time, Tanaka?”

  * * *

  Coaches call it turkey legs. The effect on hockey players of having a few days away from the rink to relax and eat too much holiday food. Whatever it was, the Canucks came out sluggishly and while they slowly climbed back into competitive play it was too little, too late, and they lost 3-2 to the Edmonton Oilers.

  While I was hovering around the C2C broadcast team, I didn’t have to do anything until the game was over so I watched the whole game. I was already relaxed working with Zack, and although it would be my first time interviewing live, I felt pretty good. Unfortunately, after a loss nobo
dy would be in a good mood, and I’d have to work hard to get anything decent.

  Mike Province, the director, spoke to me from the truck. “Okay, sweetheart, I need you to get post-game from Haines.”

  Peter Haines. Shit. Why did it have to be him?

  If I had only heeded the Tanaka Scale and watched him play before I went out with him. To be fair, when he played with the Manitoba Moose, he was the best puck-moving d-man out there. He was a slick skater and had a sizzling slapshot. But when he got called up to the Canucks, it was another story. He got brain cramps and coughed up the puck in his own zone. Or he’d pinch too deep and cause an odd man rush. The faster speed and intensity of the NHL game gave him less time to figure out the best play. Due to injuries, he was going up and down between the Canucks and the Moose like a 6’5” yo-yo. And he called me whenever he was back in Vancouver, but I never called him back.

  In tonight’s game, he’d played well. He’d scored the second goal with a seeing-eye shot from the point. And as someone new, he was tagged as the player to interview.

  “Babe? You still there?” I was pretty sure that Mike called me all these endearments because he had no clue what my name was.

  “Yes, Mike.”

  “Okay, get Zack to hook your audio up, and keep the earpiece on. I need you to be in position and ready for the feed in ten.”

  I briefed Zack and he sauntered off, not totally panicked as I was. I wished I could work stoned too. I waited outside the closed doors of the dressing room with the rest of the media gang. The crowd was a third the size of normal scrums since most were still on holiday. It was a game of low importance at the worst time of the year.

  The Canucks media guy, Doug Fleischman, looked me over when I handed him my interview request. “I don’t think we’ve seen you before, have we?”

  I shook my head. “It’s my first time.”

  “Oh boy. A virgin reporter. It must be the holidays.” He shook his head. “I don’t think Hainsey was expecting to talk to anyone. He went straight to the showers.”

  “Shoot. Will he be out in—” I looked at my watch. “Seven minutes?”

  Doug smiled. “I’ll tell him a pretty lady wants to talk to him. I’m sure he’ll be ready.

  Oh crap. Don’t tell him that. Don’t tell him my name either. I’d be the last person he’d hurry out of the shower to see.

  Zack finally returned and got me all wired up. Mike was already swearing at me.

  “Fuck! Did I not tell you to get your earpiece right away on so I could talk to you? Communication is key, and the sooner you learn that the better.”

  I didn’t want to throw Zack under the bus, so I apologized and told him the doors had just opened and everything was lined up with Peter Haines.

  Mike calmed down a little. “Okay, darling. Ready to go in five.”

  Then I turned and saw Peter Haines, fresh out of the shower and looking pretty good—if you were into tall, blond, half-naked men. Only a towel between me and whatever goodies Peter might have on offer. Interviewing him like this might increase our female viewership exponentially.

  “Hey, Peter. How are you? Ready to speak to all of Vancouver about your great game tonight?”

  “Oh, now you want to talk to me, do you, Kelly?”

  Peter sounded less than keen, but I was desperate.

  “Yeah, you’ll be on the Canucks postgame show. Now that you’ve been called up again, everyone’s interested. We can talk about what you think you’ll bring to the team. I can go now if you want to get dressed.”

  “No, I’m comfortable. Am I making you uncomfortable?”

  “Not at all.”

  Crap, a half-naked guy was nothing compared to going live on camera for the first time.

  Zack came over and got set up.

  “Y’know, Kelly, it’s kind of hard to get you both in a tight shot. He’s tall enough that your head is barely higher than his chest.” Was this why female reporters wore heels? I dragged a nearby gym bag over and stood on top of it. “Yeah, that’s better. Okay, your mic is on now, I’ve got the feed started.”

  “All right, Peter. You get that we’re live, right? So, no swearing and we can’t edit out anything.” I was babbling, and I knew it. Now everyone in the truck could hear whatever idiotic comments I was making. And any snarky things Peter said.

  “I get what ‘live’ means, Kelly.”

  He looked down at me and curled his lip. He was clearly pissed.

  “Sorry, I’m a little nervous here.” I gave him a full-voltage smile, willing him to relax.

  He smiled back at me. Whew, that was easy.

  “You’re looking really pretty tonight.”

  “Uh, thanks, Peter.” Please don’t go into the dating stuff again.

  “It’s funny, eh? You used to be in radio, and now you’re a reporter. And I’ve been promoted too. Now that I’m going to be in Vancouver, maybe we can get together again.” I could hear a male voice going ‘oooohhh’ in my earpiece. Not Mike, it must have been one of the techs.

  The thing about live feeds is that while you’re not actually on air because there are commercials on, you can be seen and heard by everyone else in the circuit—like the guys in the control room and possibly even on the closed circuit sets in GM Place. Therefore, it’s better not to say anything at all, and especially not about dates.

  “You know, Peter, maybe we can talk about this later.”

  “When, Kelly? I’ve called you a bunch of times, and you never call me back.”

  The voice in my ear began tsking.

  “I know, and I’m really sorry about that. I’ve just been swamped with work, I’m doing ten-hour days and weekends.” Mock pity sounds.

  “Yeah well, that’s why now is good. Can you go to dinner tomorrow?” Kissy noises in my earpiece.

  “Uh…”

  Finally, Mike’s voice in my earpiece, “Hey Angelina, tell Brad to hold onto his dick for now. You’re on in fifteen seconds.”

  “Okay Peter, we’re on in fifteen seconds. Let’s talk after the interview.”

  The interview went fine, all things considered. Once Zack took all the equipment back, I spoke to Peter frankly.

  “Peter, you’re a really nice guy and gorgeous too, but I recently got out of this complicated relationship thing, and I don’t think I’m totally ready to date yet. And I have a new job and tons of work. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s no big deal, Kelly. It just bugged me that you never called me back.”

  “I’m really sorry about that. Glad we’re back on track and got things straight. I’ll probably see more of you—professionally I mean—now that you’re up with the Canucks.”

  I felt like we were done here, but he kept standing close and staring. Surely he must have been getting cold with just a towel on, but it was pretty warm in here. Or maybe that was just me.

  “So, that’s it, right?” I asked him.

  “Yup.”

  “Why are you still standing here?”

  “Kelly, you’re on my gear.”

  I looked down at his squished gym bag. “Oh sorry,” I said, and I went to step off the bag.

  If I practiced 100 times, I could never duplicate what happened next. I went to get off the bag, my ankle got twisted up in the handle and I started to fall. As I fell, I reached out to right myself, and I grabbed onto Peter’s thigh, and by extension his towel. I ended up pulling off the towel and landing on my knees, my face literally two inches away from his cock. And Peter was hung. Peter could give Phil a run for his money in that department.

  At that moment, Marc Latour walked in the dressing room. He saw Peter naked, me on my knees in front of him, said “Holy fuck!” and backed out of the room. Unbelievable.

  I looked up at Peter. He grinned down at me and asked,

  “Did you want to reconsider that date now that you know more about me?”

  39

  Tylenol

  James

  * * *

  The Christmas
break ended all too quickly. In December, we had a road trip through Western Canada, which finished in Vancouver. Baller was pretty happy about that because he could slide right into his holiday break. But it was a pain for me since I’d have to fly right across the country to get home.

  It was also the first time I’d been back in Vancouver since the summer. I resisted the urge to stop by the radio station or offer to do a random interview. But every time we went out somewhere, I’d find myself searching the crowds and looking for Kelly. It was stupid, and I knew it.

  Besides, I had a girlfriend. Before I’d left, I gave her some expensive earrings she’d admired when we were out Christmas shopping for my family. She gave me some big-deal bottle of champagne, which she told me should be opened only for special occasions.

  When I got back to Chicago after the holidays, we had a game right away. The next day I did some physio and saw my chiropractor. I’d been having some knee problems that I didn’t want to get any worse. In the evening, I went out for dinner with Astrid. I usually let her choose the place. Tonight she had chosen a French restaurant, which was what I preferred anyway.

  “I’ve never eaten here before, but Guy recommended it,” Astrid said. Guy was some friend. She liked to drop a lot of men’s names into the conversation. It was probably to make me jealous, but I wasn’t that kind of person. I assumed we were going out because she preferred me to other guys. Except for that one discussion on getting serious, we weren’t all lovey-dovey or anything. I liked things as they were—sex and no pressure.

  “This wine list could use some tweaking. Did you say you’re having the beef?”

  I nodded.

  “Hmm, well, I think I’ll order a Bordeaux. They have the Chateau Palmer, but unfortunately not the 2005. So, perhaps a St. Emilion.” She frowned at the wine list.

  At first, it was pretty cool to date someone who knew so much about wines, but these days it was getting old. It was embarrassing when she sent back wines. Since I was always the one who paid for them, it kind of bugged me that she always wanted to order the very best wine on the menu, and sometimes multiple bottles, which we wouldn’t finish. I knew my mother wouldn’t have approved of spending so much on alcohol, especially wasted alcohol. It was a thrifty way of living that I couldn’t shake, even with all the money I was making.