Page 43 of Slap Shot Surprise
I wasn’t going to be a dad like my father and brothers were. Hands on, there all the time, twenty-four/seven dads. It just wouldn’t look like that for me, and everyone would have to deal with it. I’d be supportive, but my priority was still hockey. I’d be better able to support them with a successful career, right? First as a player and then as a coach or maybe a commentator? Focusing on the game was best for everybody.
But I tossed and turned for several more hours and finally fell asleep toward dawn. Whenmy alarm went off for the morning skate, I reached for my phone, hit stop, and set it aside.
Then I picked it up again and sent Mabel a message.
Hey, can you send me the date and time for the ultrasound appointment? Thanks.
TEN
mabel
“So? How did it go?”Even over Bluetooth, I could hear the anxiety in Ari’s voice.
“It went fine,” I said, cruising along I-94, Chicago in my rearview. “Maybe even better than fine. I didn’t even get the hiccups.”
“Tell me everything! Was he shocked?”
“Definitely,” I said, recalling the dumbfounded expression on his face and his insistence that it had only been a scrimmage and wasn’t supposed to count. “It took him a little time to accept the news.”
“But he didn’t question whether it was his or anything?”
“Nope. Not at all. He just seemed in denial for a bit, then really sorry, and finally kind of resigned to it, I guess.”
“How about when you told him you’re going to have it and raise it on your own?”
“He didn’t argue. He said he wanted to be supportive.”
“Wow. So what does that look like?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said, signaling and checking myblind spot before changing lanes. “I think he means financially, but he also said he wanted to be involved. That was his word—involved. We had dinner at his apartment and talked for a couple hours, but we didn’t really make any firm plans.”
“What’s his apartment like?”
“Gorgeous. I mean, it’s kind of sparsely decorated, like no art or anything. But almost an entire wall is windows overlooking Chicago and Lake Michigan, so I guess that’s the art.”
“Is it like a man cave? Like beat-up furniture and takeout containers everywhere? Or is it like playboy cool, all chrome and leather and mirrors over his bed?”
I laughed. “Neither. His couches were comfortable and navy blue, and he had a couple beige chairs. Bathroom was white marble. I was not in his bedroom, so I cannot tell you if there were mirrors, but he has a couple huge TVs. Nice kitchen.”
“Sounds like an above-average bachelor pad. So did you order in?”
“No, actually, he cooked dinner for us.”
“Really? What did he make?”
“Spaghetti. It was really good. He said it was his family’s meat sauce recipe.”
“He loves giving you the family meat sauce, doesn’t he?”
I laughed. “Very funny.”
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist. Well, it sounds like it went as well as you could have hoped, right?”
“I think so.” I recalled sitting across from him, watching him cook, the easy way he moved around in the kitchen, the things he said about his family, the excited way he talkedabout hockey. He’d also made an effort to ask about my job and my family. “It was nice getting to know him a little better.”
“So is there any chance the two of you might...” Her voice trailed off on a hopeful note.
“No,” I said firmly. “No chance.”
