Every couple of minutes, t
he players took shifts on the ice, scurrying off the ice to sit on the bench for a breather. The goalies didn’t get breathers. They were always on the ice waiting and watching for the puck to enter their zone.
Watching Nathan play hockey was a roller coaster of emotions.
Every time he moved to make a save or reach out with his glove to catch the puck Sarah held her breath. Excitement coursed through her body when his team scored. Then there was worry and apprehension when the other team shot the puck at his net. And disappointment and sadness when he didn’t make the save. And then exalted jubilation when he did.
By the end of the
first five minutes, Sarah was physically and mentally exhausted.
For a while, the players clustered in
Nathan’s zone and he moved back and forth blocking the puck while the opposing goaltender watched from the other end of the ice.
Sarah willed
Nathan’s teammates to move the puck to the other end to give Nathan a break.
Finally, a Razors player got a breakaway and skated down the ice. He lined up the shot and fired the puck right past the goalie and into the net.
The puck went in with such force that it knocked the goalie’s water bottle right off the top of the net.
Everyone shot out of their seats and cheered at the top of their lungs. The Razors had
won the game!
* * *
Sarah, Peach and Tony waited in the players’ lounge for the players to come out of the locker room.
When Sarah saw Nathan her heart thumped loudly in her ears. He had gone from looking like a red polar bear to a sleek businessman. He was incredibly handsome in a dark suit and a blue tie with silver stripes that matched his eyes. His hair was slicked back and still wet from his shower. The sight of him took her breath away.
S
howered and dressed in his suit, Nathan walked out of the locker room with a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He’d managed to let only one puck by him and the Razors had won 3-1 against the Everblades.
When he
looked up and locked eyes with Sarah all thoughts of the game faded away. He went to her and took her hand in his. “Sarah, you’re here.”
“We finished earlier than expected and Peach gave me a ride.”
He leaned down, gently cupped her face in his hand and brushed his lips across hers. It was the most he could do in a room full of people without drawing too much attention.
“Hi,” she smiled warmly.
“I got to see you play.”
“Hi,” he said back. “
I’m so glad you came.”
Thankfully, the hockey gods had been smiling down on him tonight
. And the fact that Sarah was able to share in his victory moment was a bonus.
Nathan
tucked her small hand into his and began the long walk through the maze of NorCal Center to his truck.
One for the Team
After a two day bender at the motel, Dwight felt a whole helluva lot better. Booze and women always had that effect on him. He took a long, satisfying drag from his cigarette and exhaled before banging on the door of Troy’s room until the hinges creaked.
Troy opened the door and stuck his head out.
“Grab your Fritos, Cheetos, Doritos or whatever the fuck O’s they are and get in the truck. The road’s open.”
* * *
The morning at the salon went by in a haze. Sarah couldn’t stop thinking about Nathan and the way he made her feel. She was in mixing color and didn’t even hear Destiny come into the room.
“
Did you and Nathan celebrate last night?” Destiny asked, interrupting Sarah’s thoughts of the night before.
“Why?”
“You’re blushing.”
“Oh.”
Sarah’s hands fluttered up to her cheeks to find them hot. Last night they hadn’t done anything more than kiss because Nathan had been exhausted from the game but sleeping in his arms still made her pulse quicken.
Now Sarah understood what people meant when they said their head was in the clouds or they were walking on air or sunshine. It was the exact feeling she had
whenever she was with Nathan. And knowing that he loved her in return made everything seem possible. He made her feel things she never thought she’d feel. Especially from another person. Nothing could make her come back down to earth.
* * *
At a rest stop outside of some random town, Dwight drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Troy had a bladder the size of a goddam dime bag. It was no wonder he had to take a piss every five miles the way he kept a steady IV of high fructose corn syrup pumping into his body. Between that and stopping at every roadside fast food joint, they were making terrible time.
Dwight would
be glad when they found Sarah so he wouldn’t have to be stuck with Troy in this tin can of a truck for much longer.
He fiddled with the radio dial and still couldn’t get anything to come in clearly. This whole trip had been one giant musical failure. Just when he found a decent radio station, it would fade away into static and he’d have to start all over again. Dwight didn’t believe in satellite radio. If the part wasn’t original, he wouldn’t be caught dead bolting it onto his truck.
Finally, Troy waddled back to the truck with a little more hustle than usual. He got in and waved a baggie in front of Dwight’s face. “Look what I scored, Pops!”
“You scored weed at a rest stop on the interstate?”
What are you a freakin’ moron
? he wanted to say. But he didn’t because Dwight already knew the obvious answer to that question. Weed from a rest stop might as well have been dried cilantro.
Troy didn’t seem to mind though. He gripped the baggie in his fat fingers like it was a blue ribbon he’d won at the county fair.
Like Troy needed another reason to have the munchies.
Dwight needed to get a fix soon, too, but he didn’t want questionable stuff from a rest stop. That
bajiggity feeling told him it’d been too long between hits. He had some good stuff stashed in his sock, but he didn’t let Troy to know about it.
Troy broke open a bag of
Cornuts and Dwight growled and turned up the radio.
* * *
When the wedding party arrived at the salon, everyone rushed around to finish the hair before the big day.
The bride
-to-be glowed and her mother hovered nearby. Even though everyone made a fuss, the bride had that “I’m in love” look that said nothing else mattered.
While
Sarah curled one of the bridesmaid’s hair, she let her mind wander. She imagined that one day
she’d
be the one picking out hairstyles and gowns and choosing cake flavors and bouquet arrangements.
Someday
, she said to herself and went back to focus on the hair.
* * *
Interstate 5 was a nightmare. Between the slow trucks and zooming cars going eighty miles an hour, Dwight couldn’t seem to get anywhere. Any time he did try to pass, a yuppie in a shiny European came up behind him and rode his ass until he got back over into the slow lane.
Dwight snatched hold of the last of his self-control. It had continued to slip further and further away the further north they drove and he didn’t want to be held responsible when it finally snapped.
More than once, he had to talk himself out of yanking someone out of their car to give them a beating.
Where did all these cars come from
anyway? And where were they going? And why were they all on the road at the same time?
Dwight gave up the ghost and tucked Dottie in behind a semi going
fifty-five. Dottie liked to cruise slow and steady. She started to shake when the needle went past fifty-five anyway.
Troy rummaged around in the ice chest and came out with a beer. He popped open the can and raised it to his lips.
“Give me that, you idiot!” Dwight reached over and snatched it away. “Are you
trying
to get us arrested?”
“Sorry. I was thirsty.”
Dwight gulped down as much of the beer as he could before he had to stop and take a breath.
All of a sudden, crimson lights flashed in the rear-view mirror. Dwight cursed everything on the planet including his idiot son before pulling towards the off-ramp.
The Five-O strode up to Dottie and Dwight’s fingers formed a deathgrip on the steering wheel. Carefully, he cradled the beer can between his feet. Hopefully Mr. Piggy wouldn’t notice the evidence.
Dwight tried out his rusty smile again. The smile might as well be a noose around his neck, so he let his face fall into its usual sneer. This wasn’t some dumb broad at a beauty school anyway
. This was Grade A Prime Bacon.
God, he hated the CHP. They made his skin crawl just as much as city cops
did. As far as Dwight was concerned, he was the law of himself and didn’t need to answer to nobody. Anyone who thought they had the right to tell Dwight Hammond how he should live his life could go fuck themselves. He sure as hell didn’t need anyone telling him what they thought was legal or not.
Dwight rolled down his window and looked up into the cop’s face.
“License and registration, please.”
Dwight imagined himself throwing open his door, pushing the cop to the ground and digging his boot into the cop’s throat.
His boot would leave dirty footprints all over the prick’s starched uniform. He’d grind his foot until the guy’s windpipe squeezed shut and he turned blue.
Dwight gave the steering wheel a squeeze before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He shimmied and twisted. These damn too-tight pants made everything a
giant pain in the ass.
The can between his feet teetered and tipped over, spilling beer on his ankle. “Shit,” he muttered and reached for the can.
Now Dottie was going to have beer on her floorboards. It wouldn’t be the first time, but
damn
these pants were too tight.
Dwight straightened in his seat and shook the droplets of beer off the can.
“Have you been drinking, sir?”
Troy belched and blew out a breath of regurgitated Corn Nuts.
Dwight grimaced.
Not enough
, he thought wryly. “Just a little,” he told the cop.
To
Dwight, a little was twice the legal limit. His body just didn’t function on all cylinders unless his blood alcohol level was above .08.
“You realize it’s illegal in the state of California to have an open container inside a vehicle.”
The aluminum can crinkled under the grip of Dwight’s hand.
“I can close it,” Troy offered helpfully.
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the vehicle.”
* * *
Sarah took the bus to Nathan’s house from work. Nathan had an autograph signing at the Razors Merchandise Store and Kayla’s friend from work had taken her and Robbie to the zoo.
When Sarah
went in the front door she thought she heard something. No one was supposed to be home so she cocked her head and listened. Very faintly she could hear a woman was singing.
The voice
sounded like it was coming from the bedroom. Sarah held her breath and listened closely. There was definitely someone singing. Sarah didn’t understand the words but it sounded like Spanish.
All of a sudden, the singing stopped.
“Señor Connors?”
Sarah froze.
“Señor?” the woman said again. Her voice was coming from Nathan’s bedroom.
Sarah covered her mouth in horror.
There was a woman in Nathan’s bedroom waiting for him.
S
he would have screamed in fury but she wasn’t able to make a sound.
Señor
? Her pulse pounded in her ears. There was no way she was going to be witness to Nathan’s perverted sex game. The color drained from her face and she bolted out the door.
On the way out, she nearly tripped over a mop--where had that come from?--and stumbled out into the afternoon sun. The tears started to well up before she could get
down the path to the driveway.
She had to put some space between herself and
whatever
was going on inside Nathan’s house but she couldn’t walk to the bus stop in the state she was in. Luckily, Kayla’s car was unlocked and parked in the driveway.
After
climbing inside, Sarah buried her face in her hands and began to cry. The tears came quick. After years of abuse and humiliation why did she think things with Nathan would be any different? How naïve could one person be time after time after time? Why did he bring another woman into his bedroom?
Why would he do this to her
? Especially after everything they’d shared together.
She had let him touch her. Intimately.
Where was she supposed to go now?
Another rundown motel ran by another scumbag? If the luster of Red Valley hadn’t dulled with Skeet then it did now. All towns were the same ugly towns full of the same ugly people.