Home Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  Unable to help it, Ally smiled to herself at how blatant her friend was with men. Izzy was practically throwing herself at the poor guy. On the other hand, the man in uniform didn’t seem to mind in the least bit and appeared to be instantly taken with her. He smiled down at Izzy from his muscular frame.

  Ally waited a few minutes, trying to give Izzy her space, then started walking up to them. She had had enough of this debacle. She was about to ask if they could leave already, when Izzy leaned over to the player and Ally heard her say, “Dominic Devereaux, you looked positively sexy on the ice today. You really know how to handle that stick of yours.”

  Good Lord, Ally thought. Please don’t let there be any stick handling. Not in front of the children.

  There was no holding Izzy back. To make matters worse, her hand was awfully low on the hockey player’s waist. Luckily, most of the children had made their way out by now because Ally was fearful that her friend might straddle him right there in the bleachers. She could see the headline now: “Local Woman Assaults Hockey Player‘s Stick.” News at eleven.

  Realizing it would take a freight train to pull Izzy away from her new conquest, Ally decided to go outside and wait for her by the clown car. When she turned to go, a giant Number 20 was standing in her path. Before she could stop her feet from propelling her forward, Ally ran smack dab into the player’s back.

  “Whoa!” he exclaimed after the impact and turned around to see who had hit him.

  “Excuse me,” Ally mumbled and tried to regain her footing. She attempted to hurry out of the building without making a bigger fool out of herself, but was stopped in her tracks when the player’s hand reached out and grabbed her arm.

  Startled, she spun around, looked up and was greeted by the warmest brown eyes she had ever seen. The player blocking her had shaggy brown hair that clumped to his face with sweat. In one hand he held his helmet and stick and his other hand was lightly gripping her arm. “Sorry,” she squeaked, her voice suddenly failing her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked with concern, still holding on to her.

  “Yeah.” His hand was warm and she didn’t want him to let go. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Suddenly, with him looking at her like that, she didn’t remember why she had wanted to get out of there so quickly.

  “Are you sure?” He let go of her arm. “That was the kind of hit I’m used to taking on the ice.” He was smiling at her now.

  She smiled back. “I’m sure it was. And I’m so sorry about running into you.”

  Now, if you will just step aside, I will be on my way to bask in my humiliation.

  He made no attempt to let her by. Instead, he asked in a friendly voice, “Did you enjoy the practice?”

  “Uh, sure.” She cleared her throat and fumbled for words.

  The Number 20 must have been hit too many times in the head on the ice because she could have sworn he was still talking to her. Ally looked to her left then right, but there was no one else around. Yep, he was definitely talking to her.

  “You guys look really good out there,” she said finally. Oops. Those won’t the words she was looking for. “I mean…Actually, my friend dragged me here.” Grateful for the change in subject, she pointed to over to Izzy. “She’s over there. The one who left a trail of trampled children behind her to get to your teammate.”

  What a friend indeed. Men trumped all things in Izzy’s existence on earth. Instead of “Nothing comes between me and my Calvin’s”, Izzy’s motto may well have been “Nobody comes between me and my Calvin”.

  Ally thought back to other places Izzy had talked her into going to. Art galleries, plays, the post office, monster truck races, coffee shops, the dog park (even though neither of them had a dog). Anywhere to troll for men.

  As for Ally, she was fine all by her lonesome. Or, at least that’s what she told herself when she lay in bed alone at night. Besides, she had no time for a man or a relationship. Her plate was already full. But, then again, she always did have a hard time passing up dessert.

  Ally looked back over at Izzy in time to see her clinging to the player and whispering something into his ear. Ally rolled her eyes at the spectacle and Number 20 laughed at her. It was a warm chuckle that sounded like pure kindness.

  Watching the practice earlier, Ally thought of hockey as an aggressive and rough sport, but there was nothing barbaric about this man standing in front of her. His smile was kind and although he was a few inches taller than her, he didn’t threaten her at all. If anything, he felt protective and gentle.

  “I’m glad you came,” he said, making it sound as if she had been there today just for him.

  Ally looked up at him and his eyes were still on her. She pulled her purse closer to her. Now she wished she had dressed a little bit nicer for the practice instead of wearing her old go-to jeans and tee shirt. But, she could have bet a month’s salary that she wouldn’t meet anyone here tonight. Especially not someone so handsome, who was talking to her, of all people. And he was looking into her eyes.

  “Me too.”

  His masculine smell of sweat and salt and ice filled her senses. Her thoughts wandered to him taking a shower in the locker room later. Washing off the sweat, the water trickling down his bod---

  “Ally!” Just then, Izzy came plowing up to them, grabbed Ally’s arm and started to pull her to the door. “Omigod! I’ve got great news.” Izzy blabbered on like the Number 20 was invisible.

  Right. The six foot two, red jersey wearing, Invisible Man.

  Ally whipped her head back to the Number 20 and waved and smiled as Izzy dragged her out to the parking lot.

  Perfect.

  That was entirely like Izzy to barge in and interrupt. Things were just getting good, too. Ally had been on the verge of knocking him off his skates with her suave charm and brilliant conversation.

  Izzy waved a piece of paper in Ally’s face. “Look, I just got Dom “The Bomb” Devereaux’s phone number! We are going on a date,” she announced proudly.

  Ally wedged herself into the car, wishing they were going back in the other direction. The only number on her mind was the Number 20.

  Chapter Four

  Dental Floss

  As always, the Red Valley Mall parking lot was full. After the Razors’ practice, Izzy had begged Ally to go shopping with her and Ally had finally conceded. Reluctantly. It was Ally’s day off and she didn’t have anything else planned the rest of the day anyway. When they finally found a parking space, Ally wondered how any of these people could afford to be shopping at the mall. Lately, she found herself stretching her almighty dollar at the Everything Under 99 Cent Store.

  “Why are we here again? You know how much I hate the mall.” Ally slammed the door of Izzy’s car shut. She said the word ‘mall’ like they were visiting ‘the proctologist’ or ‘the landfill’ or ‘the electric chair’.

  “I have a date with Dominic, the cute hockey player, and I need some new lingerie.” Izzy locked the car and adjusted her outfit. With her sequined leggings, off-the-shoulder blouse and platform shoes, she looked like she was ready for a night of club-hopping with Paris Hilton.

  “Iz, you have more clothes at home than you could ever wear in a lifetime,” Ally reminded her.

  Ally knew all too well from a past experience of getting lost in one of Izzy’s three closets. Her fashion conscious friend had rows upon rows of every designer label imaginable. And that wasn’t even counting any of her shoes. Ah, the shoes. Platform, spiky, pointy and none less than four inches tall. Where Ally had her own clothes separated by tee shirts for work and tee shirts for days off, jeans for work and jeans for days off, Izzy had her wardrobe separated by season, color and designer. Because of Ally’s ‘uniform’ of black tees paired with blue jeans, Izzy often called her a walking bruise.

  “I know. But I need something really sexy for Saturday. I don’t want this one to get away. Not just yet. He’s too hot and successful. And besides, confidence comes from what you are w
earing under your clothes.”

  “Right, because you are in such short supply of confidence.”

  Izzy flashed her a glare and led them into ‘the mall’. She took off her Chanel sunglasses and placed them on her head like an expensive headband.

  Once in the foyer, the smell of the food court, a mixture of hot pretzels and greasy Chinese food, filled their noses. The floors were polished to a glossy shine and pop music played from hidden speakers. Ally thought she would rather just pick something out at Target instead of coming in here. Too bad the 99 Cent Store didn’t carry clothes. The snobby mall sales people irritated her. She always felt judged by them as they looked her up and down when she went into a store. Can I help you?, they asked skeptically. All that Ally heard was Are you sure you are good enough to shop here?

  Ally looked over at Izzy who was completely in her element.

  “Remember in high school when we used to cruise the mall for cute boys?” Izzy asked as she craned her neck to look into the sports shop. She knew exactly where the boys liked to hang out.

  “You still do!”

  “For goodness sake, Ally, I’m not dead! What do you expect me to do when I see something I like?”

  Ally shot her a look. “Well, for starters…”

  Izzy didn‘t let her finish. “Don’t answer that. I‘m in no mood for one of your lectures.”

  “So,” Ally shrugged and looked around at the plethora of shops in the mall. “What store are we going to find this sexy confidence at?”

  “None other than Victoria’s Secret, of course.”

  “Right.”

  “I just need a few things in here first.” Izzy turned into a cosmetics boutique and made a beeline for the eyeliner. With hesitation, Ally followed her and was engulfed by the colorful palettes of makeup surrounding the inside of the store. She wandered the aisles of cosmetics and stopped at a wall of eye shadow and mascara. Scanning the cosmetics, Ally wondered if beauty could really be purchased in a compact or a bottle. She picked up a tube of mascara and examined it.

  “Twenty-seven dollars for a tube of mascara?!” After realizing she said her thoughts out loud, she looked up to make sure nobody heard her. The coast was clear. Horrified, Ally thought of all the things she’d rather spend twenty-seven dollars towards. New glasses for Gram. Her gas tank. The electric bill. She quickly put the mascara back in its place on the shelf.

  Within seconds, Izzy rejoined her with a black eyeliner pencil in hand.

  “I thought you bought that stuff in bulk,” Ally teased.

  “Haha. Why don’t you pick something out? My treat. Maybe it’ll help you get out of your slump.”

  Ally looked at her in confusion. “What slump?”

  “Oh, that’s right,” she slapped her knee, “You can’t have a slump when you never had anything going to begin with.” Izzy lowered her voice, then asked, “When’s the last time you felt the weight of a man on you?”

  “Izzy, stop!” And she thought she was horrified a minute earlier about the mascara. “I’ve got way too much going on right now for that anyway.”

  “What’s more important than sex?”

  Ally narrowed her eyes at her elfin friend. “Let me see. Work. School. Family. Um, everything.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what you were missing out on. Honey, you have got to rework your priorities.”

  Ally rolled her eyes without justifying her with a response.

  “I’m serious.” Izzy put her hands on her hips.

  “And so am I.”

  Ally was more than ready to leave the store along with their conversation, so she turned around and scanned the nail polish display. It was like a paint chip display with every color of the rainbow.

  “Here, your treat. Are you happy now?” Ally tossed a bottle of red nail polish at Izzy.

  Izzy caught the bottle and studied her with skeptical black eyes. “The question is: Are you happy? Living as Sister Mary Katherine Chaste and Perfect?”

  “What kind of a question is that? Of course I’m happy. Gram is in decent health, I have a good job and for the first time in my life I know what I want to be ‘when I grow up’,” Ally finished, satisfied with her answer.

  Izzy wasn’t satisfied. “You live like some kind of hermit-spinster hybrid,” she said with disgust. “You think a night out is taking Gram to get her blood pressure checked at the supermarket and you haven’t had a date in God knows when!”

  Ally threw up her arms with a humph. “And you say I’m the negative one!”

  “I’m sorry to be so harsh, but I’m your best friend. And if I don’t point this stuff out to you, then who will?”

  “No one. And that would be just fine with me.”

  Izzy wheeled Ally around to the mirror at the end of the eye shadow aisle. “Look at yourself. Tell me what you see in the mirror.”

  Ally looked at the reflection staring back at her. She blinked and saw tired eyes sitting in the middle of the pale face that had always appeared in the mirror on the rare occasions when she actually looked in one. Without any makeup, which she rarely wore, her full lips and cheeks were pale. With her blonde hair pulled back into a pony tail, the only thing standing out on her face were two hauntingly blue eyes.

  Ally bit down on her bottom lip. “I see a girl in need of a new best friend.”

  “That’s right. To the first part,” Izzy clarified. “A girl. You are not the old maid you make yourself out to be. You are young and pretty and the only association you need with maids is a French maid costume, honey. Because you are a lot hotter than you give yourself credit for. Women would die to have your blonde bombshell of a body.”

  “But, I’m a size---”

  Izzy put her hand up to stop her. “You have the height to pull it off, Miss Hourglass Figure.”

  “Okay, okay. What’s your point?”

  “My point is that you’re too sexy to be hiding under Hanes and you need to get laid.”

  “Izzy, quit being such a Samantha.” Samantha had always been Izzy’s favorite Sex and the City character. So much so, that she had practically molded herself after her. From the skimpy outfits to the constant stream of different men in her life.

  Izzy pointed her eyeliner at Ally. “And you are definitely the Charlotte to my Samantha.”

  Ally‘s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’m just so busy, Izzy. I barely have time to brush my teeth.”

  “Well, thank God you’ve managed to keep that up,” Izzy said, dodging a slap coming from Ally’s direction. “Men appreciate a woman who keeps up her dental hygiene. Please,” Izzy begged, “just promise to stop selling yourself short. And make an effort. If not for me, then for yourself.”

  Ally thought about it and finally agreed.

  “Okay.” Izzy waved the red nail polish in the air. “Now it’s time to shop for some body candy!”

  After paying for their cosmetics, they walked to the lingerie store at the other end of the mall. Izzy’s eyes lit up when they neared her favorite store. Victoria’s Secret. The Mecca of all things sexy. In the window was a floor to ceiling sized poster of a model wearing nothing but a thong. She was holding her hands over her bare breasts with her lips puckered and her long hair was fanned out around her.

  What lingerie are they advertising? Ally wondered. She’s half naked!

  The salesperson who greeted them must have come from the same gene pool as the model in the window. She had long, wavy hair extensions that fell to her super tiny waist and her flimsy blouse was unbuttoned to show ample cleavage and a glimpse of her lacy bra.

  That’s one way to display the merchandise.

  Izzy told the Glamazon model what she was looking for and they were led to a rack of colorful bras and panties. Izzy began shuffling through the racks “oohing and aahing“ at everything. She excitedly held up a red demi bra lined with delicate pink lace for Ally to see.

  “What do ya think?”

  Ally forced a smile and then looked around wondering where
the bras for real women were kept. There seemed to be nothing under a size 4 in the entire store.

  Hey Giselle! An ‘A’ size cup isn’t gonna cut it, over here, Ally chuckled to herself.

  Izzy shoved a miniscule thong in Ally’s face. “Oooh, this is cute, don’t ya think?”

  “Yeah, Iz. Real cute. I couldn’t even fit my big toe into that.”

  “Come on. You need to pick something out, too. Again, it’s my treat. What if you meet the man of your dreams wearing granny panties?” Izzy said with a mixture of horror and concern.

  At that moment, the Number 20 crept back into Ally‘s mind and she promptly pushed it away. “Well, then, he’d just have to deal with it because I’m not subjecting myself to the torture of wearing dental floss all day.”

  “I can’t believe you. What kind of attitude is that to have? You are only going to be young and beautiful once in your life. You shouldn‘t waste it wearing one hundred percent cotton.” Izzy shivered at the thought.

  * * *

  Ally returned home from Izzy’s spending spree feeling depressed. She liked her life, but Izzy loved to point out everything that was wrong with it. Ally knew she was just trying to help, but it wasn’t helping her at all. She slipped off her shoes in the living room and went to check on Gram. Peeking into her room, she saw that she was taking a nap, so she went into her own room and logged onto the internet to see what was going on in the world. Somehow, she found herself at the Red Valley Razors homepage. It was funny how off track someone could get by randomly clicking away on the internet.

  “Buy your tickets today to see them raze the Illinois Warriors tomorrow night!”