Puck Buddies

by Valente, Lili

  “I was headed into town to re-up supplies and saw your van,” Yoda says, stepping into the hug and thumping Shane hard on the back with obvious affection. “Figured the gods were out to arrange a connection.”

  To say Yoda isn’t what I was expecting is an understatement nearly as massive as the man himself.

  No little green guy here. This Yoda is even taller than Shane—easily pushing six and a half feet—with shoulders the size of holiday ham hocks and a perfectly round gut that suits him, making him resemble a larger, beefier Buddha. His bald head and sun-kissed brown skin add to the Buddha effect, as does the way he presses his big hands together in prayer position as he turns to me with a bow. “Hello, sunshine. So good to meet you. You’ve got the sweetest eyes I’ve seen today.”

  “Thank you,” I say, pressing my hands together with a smile as Shane fetches another chair from a nearby table.

  Normally, a stranger calling me sunshine or complimenting my eyes thirty seconds into the introduction would turn me off in a major way, but sincerity and kindness radiate from this man like warmth from a space heater. He’s good people, and I’m instantly inclined to adore him.

  The next hour—as we order more food for Yoda and beers for the table and settle in for a leisurely lunch—confirms my gut call. Yoda is a sweetheart who tells incredible stories about being a roving artist/van-life enthusiast/yoga-teaching surf junkie and keeps Shane and I laughing so hard I snort Pale Ale and have to excuse myself to the bathroom.

  By the time I return, our empty plates have been cleared, our beers refreshed, and Shane and Yoda’s heads are bent over a tablet resting on their corner of the table. On my way by, I lean over to sneak a peek and gasp, the beauty stopping me in my tracks.

  “Oh my God, is that it?” I ask? “Your new goalie mask?”

  Shane grins up at me. “You like?”

  “It’s flipping gorgeous.” I rest a hand on Shane’s chair as I bend closer, taking in the four pictures of the mask with a badass cartoon train streaking over the forehead from one cheek to another. I’ve never been a train enthusiast, but I can see that changing fast since Kansas City’s mascot is a speeding locomotive.

  “What a sexy beast,” I murmur, fingers hovering around the front of the powerful engine, with its halo of golden smoke. “Am I crazy or does it kind of look like you?”

  Yoda laughs as he claps his hands together in pleasure. “Yes! I knew the smart cookies would see it. I had pictures of this guy all over my workstation while I was sketching and painting. I keep telling him, if he’s going to break out, he needs to play to his strengths.”

  I nod as I clap Yoda on one meaty shoulder. “Yes! You’re so right. I mean, I love his old face mask with the rabid badger on it, but it’s not sexy.”

  “Agreed,” Yoda says. “He needs to embrace the sexy. If I were that good-looking, I’d have my mug on every page of my website.”

  “You would not.” Shane laughs uncomfortably. “You’re all about heart, man, not the superficial shit.”

  Yoda frowns. “True, but there’s no shame in celebrating the gifts you’ve been given.”

  “Don’t hide your light under a barrel,” I agree. “That’s what my mom always says.”

  “And you have no room to talk.” Shane points a finger my way as I circle around to my chair. “Just yesterday you were giving speeches about wanting to focus more on the good you can do in the world than what you look like.”

  “Right, focus more,” I say, reaching for my beer. “But I still put on mascara and pick out my outfits a week ahead of time to make sure I’m accessorizing properly. I enjoy adorning this attractive shell the goddess gave me.”

  “Amen,” Yoda murmurs.

  He lifts a hand for me to high five, which I do before continuing, “More importantly, I understand that the way I look is a tool I can use to my advantage when I need to. Like when I’m trying to get out of a parking ticket with campus security. Officer Dan is a lot more likely to let me off with a warning if I’ve made an effort instead of heading to class in my pajamas.” I shrug. “Maybe that’s not fair or morally admirable, but it’s reality.”

  “And reality is where you need to live to make this transition as successful as you want it to be,” Yoda tells Shane, ticking items off on his fingers. “You’re honing your technique with your guru before you leave, you’re headed to your new team with a coach you trust, who knows your skill set, and you’re about to hit your prime playing years. All the pieces are falling into place for you, dude, except marketing.”

  Shane groans. “I knew you were going to say that. I hate that shit, man. Hockey should be about the game, not social media and sponsors and all the rest of the BS.”

  “And children shouldn’t go hungry,” Yoda says. “But they do. Every day.”

  “Reality,” I say, nodding. “Like he said, that’s where you need to live. Denying it is only going to slow you down and keep you from reaching your full potential. If you want to be a star, you need to listen to Yoda. If you don’t, that’s fine, too—I can see why you might want to keep a low profile. But you need to realize that’s what you’re choosing so you won’t look back later and regret the choices you’re making now.

  Yoda hums a tune under his breath. “Yes, sister sunshine. I’m feeling you.” He lifts a fist, pressing it to his chest as he shifts his attention again to Shane. “What about you? You hearing the truth your woman is laying out so nice for you?”

  Being called Shane’s “woman” is unexpectedly lovely. The look he shoots my way—the one that says he’s absolutely listening and appreciates how much I want to help him achieve all of his dreams—is even lovelier.

  Finally, after a long beat, he exhales. “All right. Let’s do this. Guide me, Yoda. Lay your wisdom down.”

  Yoda pumps an arm in the air. “That’s my man. So, the new mask will get you started, but you need more cars in motion.”

  As Yoda launches into plans for capitalizing on Shane’s fresh start—talking nicknames and social media feeds and ways for Shane to make a splash in his new hometown—I sip my beer and force a pleasant, encouraging smile every time he glances my way for input.

  But I don’t say much.

  Yoda is doing a great job of making plans, and the longer the conversation dwells on Shane’s future, the more keenly aware I am that I’m not going to be in it. At least, not in an every day kind of way. I won’t be able to cook him dinner before a home game anymore. There will be no more late-night beers on his free Fridays or treasure hunts on Sundays. All the easy routines will be gone, and Shane and I will have to wrangle two complicated lives in order to steal time for us.

  With Shane’s crazy travel schedule during the season and me working full time to afford to go to school the rest of the time, it isn’t going to be easy. And things that aren’t easy often don’t happen.

  I know Shane’s crazy about me, but I’ve tried enough long-distance love affairs to know that distance is one of the worst passion-killers around.

  Nearly as chilling as a semen allergy, in fact.

  With both working against me, I’ll be lucky to call Shane my man for a few months. Chances are, by the time the leaves start changing in his new hometown, Shane will be vibing with someone new, and our summer love will be a distant memory.

  I try my best not to think gloom and doom thoughts, even transitioning to coffee to keep my spirits up, but it’s as if clouds have drifted in front of the sun, muting the bright shiny joy of this morning.

  And then Yoda and Shane’s phones both bleat at the same time—and I instinctively know the fun is over.

  “Shit,” Shane says, eyes going wide as he reads the message. “This is crazy. My replacement for the Badgers just broke his leg in three places and is out for the season.”

  “What?” I cry out, shifting over to read a group text from someone called Trainer Tank, who I’m assuming is Shane’s goalie guru.

  “Yeah, and they’re not letting Tank into the try-out,” Shane
adds with a scowl.

  “They have to let Tank in.” Yoda nods emphatically as he taps his phone’s screen. “It’s destiny. What are they thinking, shutting him out?”

  Shane runs a clawed hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but maybe I can help. The general manager and I are pretty tight. We’ve got a mutual hamburger addiction we like to feed together. I might be able to talk him into giving Tank a shot.”

  Yoda pops two thumbs up with a big grin. “Perfect, brother. I know Tank will appreciate that call.”

  Shane shakes his head, casting an uncertain glance my way that I don’t understand until he says, “I’ll have to do it in person. Vince isn’t a phone guy. I’ll have a better chance with him face-to-face.”

  “Then we should head home,” I say, even though the last thing I want to do is cut our romantic vacation short. But Shane clearly cares about Tank. This might be the man’s big break, and who am I to interfere with destiny?

  “Really?” Shane beams, so obviously pleased that I don’t have to fake my smile in response.

  “Really.” I finish my last sip of coffee and set my mug down with a firm thunk. “Let’s go make things happen.”

  After hugging Yoda goodbye and making plans for Shane’s newly approved mask to be shipped straight to Kansas City, Shane and I hit the road back to Portland. And maybe it’s the sex-buzz hangover, or the suddenness of our change of plans, but the fact that Shane didn’t pause to think about trying to get the Badger goalie job back for himself doesn’t register until Shane has already kissed me goodbye at the curb in front of my apartment and zoomed away to make someone else’s dreams come true.

  Someone with dreams that are in direct conflict with ours.

  Or, at least, with mine.

  With a last glance at the back of the van disappearing into the distance, I trudge upstairs to my apartment to see if I can reclaim the shift I gave up at the bar. Shane’s going to be busy wooing his old GM with burgers tonight, so I might as well try to make some money.

  But Alicia doesn’t want to give up the shift—can’t say I blame her—so I spend the night at home alone, watching a documentary on the van life movement and wishing Shane was on the couch beside me instead of across town and soon to be across the country.

  Chapter 14

  Two Days Later

  From the texts of Shane Wallace

  and Tank LiBassi

  Shane: Hello? Earth to Tank? I’ve been sitting on my hands all morning. I can’t hold out any longer. How did the tryout go? Did you feel good about it? Did my guys treat you right during the scrimmage? If they didn’t, I still have locker room access until I leave for Kansas City. I can sneak in and fill their skates with shaving cream in revenge.

  Tank: I was about to hit you up, man. I just got off the phone with my agent.

  He already had feedback about the tryout.

  Shane: Yeah? And? What did he say? Don’t leave me in suspense.

  Tank: He said that…I got the job. I’m going to be a Badger.

  Shane: HELL YES! I KNEW IT! Congratulations, brother!

  Tank: Thanks. I’m going to have to do drug tests—they were spooked by my history—but I’m clean, so that’s not a problem. It’s worth peeing in a cup every month to get this second chance. Thank you so much, Wallace.

  Seriously. You changed my life, and I won’t forget it.

  Shane: No problem, man, and you’re welcome. You’re an incredible player who deserves a place in the NHL. Coach’s head would have to be fully inserted into his ass for him to choose one of those other guys. You’re in another league, and the kind of goalie the Badgers need to stay on top this season.

  Tank: I’m going to try like hell to keep them there, anyway. I’m only getting a one-year contract. I’m going to have to bring it every game to prove to them I’ve got what it takes to stick around.

  Shane: You’ll pull it off. No doubt in my mind. The hard shit is behind you. This is a new page. A new book, and you’re going to fill it with one hell of a comeback story.

  Tank: From your fingers to the hockey god’s ears…

  Speaking of hockey gods, my old friend Knox from my Washington days is coming down to help whip me into shape for the season. I want you to train with us. Free of charge, my treat. He’ll get us both primed for the pre-season.

  Shane: Sounds amazing. Thanks. I’ll be there with bells on. When do we start?

  Tank: Bright and early Monday morning. We’ll only have until noon every day—Knox is bringing his kids with him and will be watching them in the afternoon—so we’ll aim to hit the ice no later than five-thirty or six.

  Shane: Perfect. That’ll still give me lots of time to spend with Bree.

  She’s not a morning person, so I shouldn’t miss much.

  Tank: So you ignored my advice on that, huh?

  Shane: I did. But she’s my old lady now, so it all worked out the way nature intended.

  Tank: I guarantee nature did not intend that any woman should have an allergy like hers, but if you’re blissed out, I’m happy for you. Is she planning to ship out with you to the heartland?

  Shane: I don’t know. She’s in college, but she might be able to transfer to another program. I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten that far yet.

  Tank: Better get on it. You’ve only got a few weeks left.

  Shane: I know. Don’t remind me.

  Tank: Having new team remorse?

  Shane: No. I loved my time with the Badgers, but I’m ready for a chance to break out of the middle of the pack. I just wish this thing with Bree had happened sooner so we would have had more time to figure out how to make it work long distance.

  Tank: Eliminate the distance. That’s the only way to fix that problem. Take it from someone who wasted a year of his life being faithful to a woman who was nailing everything that moved while I was out of town.

  Shane: Ouch. Sorry. That sucks.

  Tank: At the time it did. Now I’m grateful I learned my lesson early and know better than to make the same mistake again. Let me take one for the team on this one and spare you the pain of learning the hard way—get her to come with you or cut her loose.

  Shane: I can’t cut her loose. I’m crazy about her.

  Tank: Crazy is not a word that should apply to a relationship. You need to reign that crazy in before it affects your game and your future.

  Shane: But isn’t love always a little crazy?

  Isn’t that the nature of the beast?

  Tank: You tell me. Did you feel crazy or sane during your last functional relationship that didn’t end in disaster?

  Shane: I’ve only had two real relationships. Both were pretty functional, but I never felt about those girls the way I feel about Bree. This is a whole new level for me, man. The way I think about her all the time and can’t seem to get enough of her smell, her voice, her thoughts. I dropped her off at her place two nights ago, and she worked so late last night that by the time she texted that she was headed home if I wanted to come over, I was asleep. It’s been less than forty-eight hours, but I’m already going through Bree withdrawal.

  Tank: Well, then…

  Shane: Well, what?

  Tank: You’re fucked.

  Shane: LOL. Thanks.

  Tank: Seriously. You should start begging her to come with you now. If you leave without her, you’re setting yourself up to fail before you get started. Your break out hinges on this, kid. If she’s waiting for you at home in Kansas City, you’re still going to be distracted by this nasty case of puppy love you’ve got going, but at least you’ll have a shot at focusing long enough to make a name for yourself.

  Shane: It’s not puppy love. This is the real deal. No doubt in my mind.

  Tank: Then go for it, man. If you’re sure. Ask her to come with you. The worst she can say is no. And if she chooses staying close to home over staying close to you, that will give you a good clue if this undying love you’re feeling is a two-way street.

  Shane: We’ve only been tog
ether two fucking days. It’s too soon. If I ask her to move away with me now, she’ll think I’m a psychopath. I’ve got to wait at least a week or two, give her some time to adjust, show her how much fun it is being a couple. Then, when the moment is right, I’ll pop the question.

  Tank: You’re going to ask her to marry you?!

  Are you high?

  Shane: No, I’m not high! I didn’t mean THAT question.

  I meant asking her to move to Kansas City, but…

  Now that you mention it…

  Maybe that isn’t a bad idea.

  Tank: I didn’t mention it, and it is ABSOLUTELY a bad idea. You don’t marry a girl you’ve been dating a couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of insanity.

  Shane: No, insanity is doing the same things and expecting different results. I’ve always played it cool in my relationships, and they’ve always fizzled out, leaving me going it solo. I don’t want to play it cool with Bree. I want to show her the way I feel, let her in with no holding back. I knew from the moment I met her that she was special, and the more time I spend with her, the more important she is to me. I can’t imagine feeling anything stronger or truer than what I feel when I’m with her. And if that isn’t the reason you ask someone for forever I don’t know what is.