Page 100 of Slap Shot Surprise
My mouth watered. “Smells good.”
“Thanks. Hey, open the oven for me, will you?”
I did as he asked, watching as he slid the skillet inside and closed the door. After setting a timer, he looked at me. “So what’s up?”
“Nothing.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “Try again.”
“Really, it’s nothing.” I rubbed my triceps.
“Shoulder bothering you?”
“A little.”
“Any word on the contract?”
“Not yet. Probably February or March.”
“Think Chicago will renew?” He began to clean up after himself.
“I hope so.”
He turned the faucet on and began handwashing the cutting board and knives. “The guy who owns the gym I go to, Bayside Sports, told me he’s thinking of buying the old Blue Lake Arena, where you used to skate.”
“Oh yeah?” I smiled, a thousand happy childhood memories on the ice running through my mind. “That old place is still standing?”
“Barely. It needs renovation. For a while, the rumor was that a minor league team was going to play out of there, but that deal fell through. They ended up in Ohio.” He reached for a clean towel and carefully dried a knife. “Now there’s talk of tearing it down. But Tyler Shaw—the guy who owns Bayside—thought maybe it would make a good training complex.”
“For kids? Like camps and stuff?”
“Yeah. Teams, groups, one-on-one. Whatever. He doesn’t know a ton about hockey training because he was a baseball player, but he knows I have a son who plays professionally and grew up playing around here, so he asked what I thought.” He shrugged, setting the knife aside. “But I don’t really know what that kind of program should look like, either.”
“I know exactly what it should look like. I can talk to him,” I said.
“I didn’t want to volunteer you without asking.”
“It’s fine. You can give him my number.”
“He’ll probably try to hire you to run it,” my dad said with a grin.
I shook my head. “I’m not ready to retire yet.”
My dad picked up another knife and began to dry it. “How are things with Mabel?”
“Fine. I decided I’m gonna go pick her up tomorrow. Weather is supposed to be bad, and I don’t want her driving in the snow.”
He nodded. “Mom said she went down to visit you in Chicago.”
“She did. We had a good time.”
I could tell he had questions, but he kept his mouth shut.
“It’s complicated, okay?” I blurted.
“I didn’t say anything,” he said, focusing on his task.
“Well, I can feel you over there judging me.”
