Three Is The Luckiest Number

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Three Is The Luckiest Number Page 14

by Catherine Cloud

“Yeah,” Blake says. “It wasn’t… It was a rough couple of days, but… being back with the team helped, I guess.” He lies back, stares at the ceiling. It’s going to hurt for a while. His parents died over ten years ago and he still misses them. And now he has another person to miss. “I have cats now.”

  “Your grandma’s cats?”

  “Yeah,” Blake says. “You should come by and say hi to Angus. He’s not really adjusting well and he always liked you.”

  “He’s sad, too,” Elliot says.

  Blake pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s not going to cry again. “I’m a bad cat dad,” he says. He doesn’t like the way his voice sounds, but it’s not like this can get any more embarrassing than their last phone call.

  “I’m sure you’re doing your best,” Elliot says. “Just don’t feed them any chocolate. Or is that dogs? I don’t know.”

  Blake snorts.

  “See, I’d be a way worse cat dad. But I’d love to say hi. To Angus. And the… other… How many other cats did your grandma have? I just know Angus.”

  “She got another one not too long ago. His name is Squid. He’s… orange.”

  “Can’t wait to meet him.” Elliot clears his throat. “You wanna have dinner at some point? I don’t mind coming to Newark.”

  It takes them a few minutes to go through their schedules and find a date at the beginning of January when they’re both in town and both have the evening off. It’s not that Blake didn’t know how hard this can be. He’s constantly doing this with Noah, comparing schedules, setting up secret meetings. Although with Elliot it’s not much of a secret, they’re literally just two old friends meeting up for dinner. Well. Exes, too. But that doesn’t matter. That was years ago.

  “Thanks for calling, Blake.”

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll see you…”

  “January 12th.”

  “I’ll find us a place for dinner.”

  “Send me the address,” Elliot says. “And we’ll– What?”

  Someone says something in the background on Elliot’s end.

  “Can you give me a few more minutes?” Elliot says, clearly not to Blake.

  “Hey, if you need to go…” Blake says.

  “No, it’s fine,” Elliot says immediately. After a pause, he adds, “Where are you right now? Winnipeg?”

  “Yep,” Blake says. “It’s cold. I chose being warm over going out for dinner with the guys.”

  Elliot laughs.

  Blake laughs, too, because he’d forgotten how much Elliot’s laugh used to make him laugh. It’s not even… He’s not being mean about it. It’s endearing, the way Elliot laughs.

  Elliot chirps him for being cold, even though Elliot, who’s actually from Canada, is a big baby when he gets too cold. Or at least he used to be. That was years ago, too. Blake almost forgot how much time has passed since they last had a proper conversation. For a few minutes, they talk about the games they both have coming up and Elliot is actually excited about playing against the Mariners. Blake isn’t surprised; the Ravens will probably have tons of their fans invading the Mariners’ arena. Blake isn’t too worried about the game against Winnipeg, but they’re going to Montreal next and they’ve been strong this season.

  They wish each other good luck before they hang up.

  They’ll save the animosities for when they’re on the same ice again in March.

  #

  Elliot swings by his place before he heads to Newark to meet Blake. He’d be early if he went straight there and he ended up spilling half a of a smoothie over his shirt after practice, so he’ll find himself a different shirt.

  He says hi to Natalie, who’s on the couch, reading something law-related that makes Elliot’s brain hurt when he looks at it, kisses the top of her head and then points at his shirt to indicate that he needs to change. He throws the stained shirt in his laundry basket and wanders into his closet and on any other given day he’d grab another shirt and be done with it, but today he sort of lingers in front of his pile of shirts, not sure which one to go for.

  Blake told him that the place he picked for dinner is pretty lowkey, so it’s not like he needs to worry about that. He just doesn’t want to show up in a Ravens shirt or something. He eventually pulls a blue-and-white striped shirt out of the pile and grabs a pair of jeans, because no matter how lowkey that restaurant is, Elliot isn’t going to wear sweatpants.

  “You look nice,” Natalie says when Elliot wanders back into the living room.

  Elliot hums and plugs in his phone.

  “Wanna go watch a movie later?” Natalie asks.

  “Oh, I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”

  “What?”

  It’s not a sorry, I didn’t catch that kind of what. More of a what the fuck did you just say kind of what. “I told you, I’m having dinner with a guy I used to play with.”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Elliot, you didn’t.”

  Elliot did tell her, but she was sort of on her way out the door and she was a little frazzled, so maybe she forgot. “I’m sorry, okay?” Elliot says, because maybe it’s his fault for not telling her at a different time.

  Natalie gives him a look that tells him that the apology is not accepted.

  “Why is this such a big deal all of a sudden? You go out with your friends. And I can’t?”

  “I go out with my friends while you’re on the road.”

  “Okay?” Elliot doesn’t get it. Does it matter when exactly they meet their friends?

  “Are you just acting dumb now?” Natalie says. “I bend over backwards to make sure I’m around when you’re in town so we can see each other and you… make plans with your friends without even talking to me about it.”

  “Why…” Elliot still doesn’t get it. “Since when do we need each other’s permission to see our friends?”

  “Oh my God, Elliot.” Natalie throws her book on the table and it lands with a thud. “This is not about either of us asking permission for anything. You’re never home to begin with and now you’re running off again?”

  “When the hell am I supposed to hang out with my friends, then?”

  Natalie purses her lips, which means he has a point and she doesn’t like it.

  “So what you’re saying is that you’d rather hang out with your friends than spend time with me?” Natalie says.

  “No, that’s really not what I’m saying.” Elliot picks up his phone, which has been charging for all of two minutes and grabs his wallet. “Don’t wait up.”

  “What, you’re just leaving?”

  “Yeah, I guess I am,” Elliot says and then leaves. He forgets his gloves and regrets it on the way to the Subway. He sends Blake a text, even though he’s likely still at the arena, tells him that he’ll probably be early and if Blake’s done early, too, can they maybe meet up somewhere?

  Blake was playing a matinee game against the Sailors today and the Knights only barely walked out of it with a win. Elliot got a notification when the game ended. He’s had the Knights on notifications ever since Blake made the NHL team. Out of curiosity.

  Blake replies no five minutes later and tells him to give him a call when he’s at the station and that he’ll meet him at the restaurant he made a reservation at.

  It takes Elliot a little over an hour to get there and he’s not exactly looking forward to the hike back, but he sort of forgets about it when he makes it to the place Blake suggested for dinner – a tiny Italian restaurant that Elliot might have not even noticed if he hadn’t had the address. Blake is waiting for him outside, bundled into a coat, wearing a scarf in Knights colors that his grandma might have knitted for him. Before… Yeah, Elliot is definitely not going to ask. It looks like Blake is still wearing his game day suit, so Elliot is majorly underdressed compared to him.

  Elliot doesn’t actually mean to hug him when Blake says, “Hi,” but he does it anyway.

  Blake sort of goes with it, doesn’t move for a moment, froze
n to the spot, then hugs him back. Blake’s smile is small when he pulls away. “You made it,” Blake says, like he didn’t believe Elliot actually would.

  “Yeah. Took a while, but…”

  “Sorry, I didn’t want to pick anything too close to the station right after the game.”

  “No, I get it, don’t worry,” Elliot says.

  “I talked to them and they said that they could move up our reservation, so if you wanna go eat right now…”

  “Yeah, sounds good.” Elliot is actually starving.

  “I’m kinda overdressed now,” Blake mutters as they head inside. “I was gonna go home and change in between, but…” He shrugs. “I already took off the tie, so maybe it won’t be too bad.”

  Elliot can see the tie, it’s purple and it’s sticking out of Blake’s coat pocket. “You look good,” Elliot says, which… Blake does look good, but he still has a bit of an I shouldn’t have said that moment afterwards.

  Blake thankfully isn’t weird about it, just leads the way and greets a waitress who takes them to a table in the back.

  #

  Blake picked his favorite pizza place for dinner, far away from the arena, where he’ll be left the fuck alone, because the owners know him and won’t ask for pictures, and where most fans are unlikely to end up after the game.

  Elliot’s smile is nervous when he sits down across from Blake. He’s actually dressed for this place, unlike Blake, who came here right after the game. He could have told Elliot to wait twenty minutes so he could go home and change, but Elliot asked if they could meet up earlier and for some reason saying no didn’t even seem like a valid option to him. Blake sort of wants to ask what happened there, why Elliot ended up being nearly an hour early, but they’re not in a place where he gets to ask these kinds of questions.

  “Listen,” Elliot says, before he’s even looked at his menu, “there’s stuff we need to talk about.”

  Blake nods. He was expecting that.

  “Later, though,” Elliot says, glancing over his shoulder. No one’s listening, but Blake gets that this isn’t a conversation they should have in public. “If that’s okay?”

  “Okay with me,” Blake says.

  They both order pizza and they talk about hockey, because hockey is safe and there’s a lot to talk about, especially with the Olympics coming up.

  Hockey gets them through dinner and Blake asks Elliot for some dirt on Evan and obviously Elliot won’t give him any because he’s too nice for that. So Blake asks him about the kid the Ravens call Crab instead and Elliot laughs and tells him that the Crab is doing fine and isn’t being pranked so much anyone.

  “You told them to lay off, didn’t you?” Blake says.

  “I might have mentioned that we want the new kids to feel welcome and that excessive pranking could be counterproductive.”

  “Of course you did.”

  “They taped my gloves together the next day.”

  Elliot looks so genuinely disappointed when he says it that Blake can’t help but laugh.

  They don’t stick around for too long after they’re done eating. Elliot grabs the bill before Blake even has a chance to reach out. He played today; he’s a bit slow. Elliot leaves the most ridiculous tip, because of course he does, and they head out together.

  Elliot’s breath clouds in the air when he huffs as he buttons up his coat.

  “Offended by the weather?” Blake asks.

  “It’s freezing.”

  Blake shakes his head at him. “You’re a terrible Canadian,” he says. “My car’s right down the street. You want my gloves?”

  “No, it’s fine.”

  Blake tries not to roll his eyes, because Elliot used to say it’s fine a lot, even when things were really not fine, but maybe in this case Elliot can make the one-minute walk without gloves.

  When they get to Blake’s place, they’re greeted by Squid and Elliot starts cooing at him before he’s even taken off his coat. He lets Blake take it, takes off his shoes and then picks up Squid, who purrs happily.

  “Your place is nice,” Elliot says.

  “You want anything?”

  “Water is good.” Elliot wanders into the living room, looking around. “Where’s Angus?”

  “Probably hiding. He’ll come out eventually.” Or at least Blake hopes so. He gets two bottles of water, then excuses himself to get out of the suit. When he’s in a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, he returns to Elliot and sits down next to him. He’s made himself comfortable on the couch, with Squid still in his lap, looking up, offended, when Elliot stops petting him.

  “Sorry,” Elliot whispers to Squid and start scratching his head again.

  Blake watches them for a moment, trying to see the kid he was friends with. Elliot is bigger than he used to be. Not really taller, but… he’s clearly been working out. He doesn’t have as much of a baby-face anymore. And he’s figured out how haircuts work. The smile is the same, though.

  “Blake,” Elliot says and the smile vanishes.

  “Yeah?”

  “Can we talk about this?”

  “This.”

  “You know what I mean,” Elliot says, soft. “Can we talk about how we… ended up here?”

  Blake knows how they ended up here. He knows that it was his fault. Because he remembers the last proper conversation he had with Elliot and it ended with Elliot walking out of his life for a couple of years. He wants to tell Elliot all that, too, but what comes out of his mouth in the end is, “I’m sorry. I said some stupid shit.”

  Elliot sighs. “It’s f–”

  “No, don’t do that,” Blake says. “Don’t say it’s fine because you feel bad for me, because my grandma died or whatever. It’s not fine. What I said wasn’t okay.”

  Elliot chews on his bottom lip, eyes fixed on Blake. “Okay, you’re right, it wasn’t. I didn’t need to hear that shit from you,” Elliot says, voice level.

  “I know. I don’t even know… I was drunk and I guess I missed you. Not really an excuse, but…” Blake shrugs. Sometimes he’s an ass, sometimes he doesn’t think enough before he talks. None of that, of course, makes this any better. “And then I didn’t say sorry and… yeah. I’m sorry.”

  Elliot leans his head against the back of the couch. “Do you think we can be friends again?”

  Blake’s heart flutters dangerously. “We can try.”

  There’s something so soft about Elliot that Blake can’t really describe. It’s funny, because Elliot, at first glance, mostly looks like a little shit who’s here to wreak havoc, but as soon as he smiles it’s all sunshine and rainbows. “I was mad at you,” Elliot says and even that sounds soft.

  “I know.”

  “I’ll stop now. We’ll start over,” Elliot says, determined, like that was the plan all along. “Clean slate?”

  “Yeah?” Blake asks. It seems too easy. Then again, Elliot wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t willing to forgive him for what he said.

  “Yeah.” Elliot looks at him for a long moment, like he’s chewing on something and doesn’t know how to say it, but he eventually dips his head down to coo at Squid again, which Squid replies to with a loud meow.

  It’s weird to have him sitting in his apartment after only really seeing him on the ice for the last few years.

  “Elliot,” Blake says.

  Elliot looks up.

  Blake has no idea what he was going to say. Maybe thank you, for being willing to talk and to fix this, for being better at this than Blake will ever be. He probably wouldn’t have reached out.

  Elliot nods, even though Blake didn’t say a word.

  “Hey,” Elliot says, “look who’s joining us.”

  Angus has made it as far as the living room door, watching them from afar, but at least he came out of the guest room.

  Elliot sticks around for another half hour, eventually handing Squid to Blake so he can coax Angus onto the couch with them. He hugs him to his chest, like he used to, and smiles down at him, cooing a little m
ore.

  “I should head home,” Elliot says eventually. “My girlfriend was kinda mad at me when I left, so I have to go and… grovel.”

  “Is that why you showed up early?” Blake asks before he can stop himself.

  “Yeah,” Elliot says. “I’m not the best boyfriend sometimes.” He frowns at Blake when he follows him to the front door. “Where are you going?”

  Blake, one shoe already on, the other one in his hand, looks up. “Oh. I’m driving you to the station.”

  “No, Blake, it’s fi–”

  “It’s cold,” Blake says, and Elliot doesn’t argue.

  Chapter Eleven

  Being in the NHL for nearly six years, Elliot knows that the rollercoaster doesn’t only go up.

  After the Olympics, after playing for Canada with the best in the league, after winning that gold medal, Elliot gets back to New York and life goes on. In the first game back, Elliot gets high-sticked in the face and comes home with a huge cut on his cheek. A few days later, Evan Samuels gets traded to the Wildcats.

  They’re on the road when it happens and Evan gets pulled off the ice during morning skate one day before the deadline. They’re sending him straight to Dallas. The Ravens got a pick and a prospect in return, so no one new is joining the team right now. They’ll call someone up from the farm team, but they’ll still miss Evan in the room. He was one of those universally liked guys and Andreas looks like a lost puppy when they get on the plane after their game in Calgary. He sat next to Evan on every single flight.

  Since Elliot doesn’t really have a plane buddy, he sits down next to Andreas.

  “I know this happens a lot,” Andreas says, voice low enough that none of the other guys will hear him. “But it’s…”

  Elliot nods. He has a pretty airtight no trade clause, at least for the first five years of his contract, but he’s been watching guys come and go for the past six years. It never really gets easier and it stings all the more when it’s guys like Evan.

  The last game of their roadie is a game against the Knights in Newark and it’s a fast-paced and filthy one. They still have some games left before the playoffs start, but right now they’re set to play against each other in the first round, with the Knights in second and the Ravens in third place. The Knights might catch up with the Eagles, who are in first place right now, the Ravens might overtake the Knights, might drop into a wildcard spot. It’s all up in the air right now. Nothing’s decided yet.

 

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