Page 68 of Hard Check
“Appreciate it, Vargas. I’ll pass along your number.”
Deluca left. Jonesy punched Leo’s shoulder on the way out. “Look at you, Vargas. Regular welcome wagon.”
Leo shrugged. “You guys did it for me, just passing it along.”
His mother calledwhile he was making dinner. Leo wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder and kept stirring. Chicken, rice, black beans—his abuela’s recipe, or close enough with what the grocery store carried. He’d been cooking more since he got here. Other than pizza, nothing delivered this far out.
“When was the last time you checked in with Phil?” So much for a greeting, asking how he was doing, anything that might have made it seem like she cared about his well-being off the ice.
Leo turned the heat down. “I talked to him last month.”
“Last month. Leo, last month is a lifetime. Things move fast, and if you’re not paying attention?—”
“I’m paying attention. I’m also in the middle of a season.”
“I know you’re in the middle of a season. That’s exactly when you should be having conversations. While you’re playing well, whilepeople are watching. Phil should be making calls. I’ll call him to see what his plan is to get you out of there.”
“Phil works for me, Mom. Not you.”
“Contracts end. And when yours does, you should be ready.” She paused. “I looked up Port Haven, Leo. I Google Earthed it. I don’t understand how a town that size even has a team. There’s one stoplight.”
“They have three.” He’d felt the same when he moved to town, but he didn’t like her talking shit about how quaint it looked when she’d never visited. Itwasquaint, and sometimes a little too much like a made-for-TV movie, but it was nice.
“There’s a gas station with a sign that still says ninety-nine cents. I don’t even know what costs ninety-nine cents.”
“Probably the sign. Nobody’s updated it.” Leo laughed, knowing exactly which place she was talking about. The gas station on the north edge of town hadn’t updated their signs since they stopped selling gas years ago. Could it be called a gas station anymore if they didn’t sell gas? Didn’t matter. The place was run-down but friendly, and he was impressed that they’d found a way to stay open when bigger chain stores came into the area.
“This isn’t funny.” Ice clinked on her end. “You’re twenty-six years old, and you’re playing in a town where the team website spelled your name wrong for two weeks.”
“They fixed that in September.”
“Leo.”
He set the spoon down. The rice was done.
“When are you getting out of there?” she said. “Give me a timeline.”
Leo leaned against the counter. Through the window, the streetlight was on, casting the same orange cone it cast every night. Dawson’s gloves were on the table next to a week of mail. He’d picked them up twice already and put them back both times, because moving them would’ve felt like erasing the fact that Dawson had been here.
“I like it here, Mom.”
Three seconds of silence. He counted because the length of the silence would indicate how exasperated she was.
“You like it there,” she repeated.
“Yeah.”
“You like the town with one grocery store and an arena twenty minutes away.”
“I’m playing well. The team’s good. People know my name.” He kept his voice even. Just true. “I’ve got a life here.”
“A life.” She saidlifethe same way she’d saidstuck.“Leo, this was supposed to be temporary. You said that. Your agent said that?—”
“I know what I said.”
A pause. Ice again on her end. When she spoke, the pitch had shifted from offense to something quieter. “Then what changed?”
He couldn’t answer that. Not honestly, not to her. The honest answer was a frustrating man with callused hands who was finally letting him in. The invitation to his house on Friday feltlike a huge step because it was the first time Leo would be in his space instead of them always ending up at the apartment.
