Page 71 of Slap Shot Surprise
“Finding everything okay?”
I jumped like I’d been caught stealing and turned to see an employee smiling at me. “Um.”
“Are you wondering if those are the right size?” she asked, indicating the box in my hands. Her smile was kind.
“Oh—no,” I said, putting the box back on the shelf. “I was just looking.”
Her face scrunched up and she shrank back a little. “Just looking at diapers?”
“I’m going to be a dad soon,” I blurted.
“Oh.” Her expression relaxed with understanding. “Are you nervous?”
“Yeah. I don’t know anything about babies. I’m an uncle, but I just play with my nieces and nephews. I’ve never had to actually feed them or change them or get them to sleep.”
She smiled. “You’ll figure it out.”
“It’s all just happening really fast. I feel a little out of control.”
“When’s the baby due?”
“April.”
“You’ve got some time yet. Don’t worry—a lot of it is instinct.”
Instinct. I felt that way about hockey, too. A lot of what made me good was instinct—knowing where to be on the ice, who to pass to, when to shoot.
But what if those were the only instincts I’d been given?
I left the store and hurried home to get ready for tonight’s game. The unsettled feeling in my stomach stayed with me throughout the pre-game meal, and a few teammates asked me if I was okay.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a little tired.”
But when I stepped out on the ice, I felt the tension dissipate as the usual rush filled me. Fueled by adrenaline, confidence in my ability, and the knowledge that Mabelwas wearing my number and watching me play, I let my instincts take over.
I was in control again, and I liked it that way.
The day after the ultrasound, Mabel left me a voicemail message asking if it would be cool to come down and see the Friday night game the day after Thanksgiving. When I got home from a therapy session later that afternoon, I called her back.
“That sounds great,” I told her.
“Are you sure? I wasn’t sure if you’d have family in town for the holiday or anything.”
“Nah, my parents do Thanksgiving at their place for everyone.”
“Will you be there?”
“I can’t. I’ve got a game Wednesday night in Columbus and Friday night here, and it’s too far for a day trip. But I don’t have a game Saturday. If you stayed, we could hang out or something.”
“That would be fun. I’ll book two nights at the hotel.”
“Mabel, that’s silly. Just stay here.”
“I don’t want to be a bother, I can just?—”
“Hey, I owe you, remember? For letting me crash on your couch. I have a guest room, and no one ever uses it unless my mom comes to visit. She picked out the bedding and everything. It’s very nice, lots of unnecessary pillows and shit.”
She laughed. “I’m sure it’s nice.”
