Page 119 of Pucking Them
I hope that this Sunday evening date will at least relax Robyn in the best way.
I swipe my tongue over my lips at the thought of Robyn squirming in her seat, being edged as if by the ghost of me.
I tormented her, until she snapped her pencil in frustration.
Four pencils, in fact, gave up their lives for our game.
I salute their sacrifice.
Robyn and I both needed this distraction today.
Afterthatnightmare, I did.
Damn Wilder.
I’m not the same scared, hazed kid, curled up on the college bus floor.
I won’t return to being that terrorized boy again, no matter how vivid my dream was.
I’m in control.
I adjust the satin bow tie of my evening suit.
A sense of calm contentment washes over me, as I look up at the worn front of the town hall. The salt air by the coast has dulled it to chalky red. The faded sign is bleached.
The town hall nearly closed a couple of years ago, but Kay and I ran fundraisers anonymously to keep it open.
This hall was one of my refuges in the early days that I arrived in Freedom.
In some ways, it saved me as much as my hockey did.
I’d watch classical recitals here. I’d lose myself in the beautiful, emotional music that would send chills down my spine and make my eyes prick with tears.
It made me feel human when I’d been conditioned that I didn’t deserve to.
Fly, like I did on the ice.
I would wish that I could perform piano for an audience like my sister did.
I have never been able to share these trips to recitals with anyone, even Kay. She understood that they were healing for me, while also being like laying flowers on a grave.
But I am finally ready to share this with Robyn.
I never dreamed that I would be able to lower my walls like this to a woman. But Robyn is different. She always has been — the one and only woman who I have loved.
Who I will ever love.
I can’t keep up the cold act.
I glance behind me.
Robyn’s cheeks are adorably pink. Her hair has been caught at her neck with the diamond hairpin that I bought her for her birthday, which makes me smile. She is wearing a gorgeous silk scarlet dress, which falls off her shoulders.
As glamorous as she is dressed, she is stumbling along like a newborn foal.
I bite back a grin.
Taking mercy, I hold out my arm to her. “Shall we, principessa?”
