Page 40 of The Grumpy Defenseman
He sat up straighter, forearms on his knees, eyes on mine.
“A woman gives you something soft in public, you do not turn it into a blade,” he said. “You did that. Own it.”
I did not move.
He turned to me.
“That’s the offer you owe Sam. Not just an apology. Apologies are cheap. The truth is what costs.”
“I don’t know if I can give her that.”
“Then don’t. But you don’t get to keep her either. Pick one.”
“And Evan.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t do it tonight.”
I looked at him.
“Okay.”
“Tomorrow, you let her come in on her schedule. When she’s ready to be in the same room, you let her see you not running. Then you talk.”
“How do I know when she’s ready?”
“You’ll know. She’ll look at you. That’s the signal. Until then, you sit in it and remember what you did.”
I nodded.
“Brick.”
“Yeah.”
“Thank you.”
He stood and put a hand on the back of my neck the way he did with rookies after a hard shift, big and warm and absolutely not negotiable, and squeezed once.
“Yeah.”
He let go of my neck and walked toward the door. Halfway there, he stopped and turned.
“And McKinney.”
The last name was back, as if a switch had flipped and the friend was gone, the team leader back in place.
“Yeah.”
“Six-twenty without a spotter. If you ever do that again in my room, I will tell Sully, and Sully will bench you, and you will deserve it. You’re a defenseman. Defensemen do not crush themselves under leg presses because their feelings are hurt.”
“Got it.”
“Good.”
The door closed, and the room went quiet.
Because the only person in it now was a man who had been told the truth and had nowhere to put it down.
