One
Easy
“How’s Jonah doing?”
My agent Jack tosses a baseball a few feet into the air and catches it, feet up on his desk as we finish up our meeting at his New York office.
“He’s good.”
“Gotta be hard on a goalie, ending the season that way,” Jack says.
Last week Jonah dove for a puck that was flying toward the goal with seconds left in the game. It got past him, ending our postseason run.
“We win together or we lose together,” I tell Jack. “If we’d been better offensively in that game, we would’ve been ahead at the end there.”
Jack nods. “He’s always been good at shaking off losses.”
“In terms of hockey, he’s the best at it.”
“Yeah, when I said losses, I didn’t mean…shit, it was a damn shame what happened to his wife. Does he date much?”
“Jonah?” I shrug. “Occasionally.”
Jack’s a good guy—he’s been my agent since I signed my first NHL contract eight years ago. But I don’t tell anyone personal shit about my teammates. Gossip’s thick enough around all of us as it is.
“You heading to Kauai on the big team trip?” Jack asks.
Most of our team’s already at the beach house my teammate Luca and his wife Abby own. It’s the way we always kick off our offseason break, and I hate that I’m missing it.
“Not this year, unfortunately. I passed because I was originally going to take my mom and aunt on a safari tour trip, but my aunt fell a couple weeks ago and fractured her hip, so we had to cancel.”
“Damn. She’s okay, though?”
“Oh yeah. My Aunt Jo will outlive us all.”
Jack grins. “Got an aunt like that myself.” He glances over at the computer screen on his desk. “So you’re in for the Yankees game tonight, right? I’ve got sweet box seats, and then we can check out this new club I’ve heard good things about.”
“Yeah, I’m game. My flight leaves at seven tomorrow morning, though.”
“No problem, I’ll make sure we stop partying by six.”
I laugh at that. Jack and I have had some epic nights out in New York City, even though I usually only come here about twice a year. He likes to wine and dine his clients, and given how much I pay him, I certainly don’t complain about it.
“I’m thirty now, man,” I say. “I feel it when I party all night long.”
“Feels like you’re not a pussy, right? Like you’re a man who appreciates all that life has given him and isn’t gonna squander it by going to bed early when he’s in the big city?”
I groan. “Feels more like someone ran me over with a truck, honestly.”
Jack takes his feet off his desk and turns to set the baseball back on the decorative stand on a bookcase behind his desk. “The truck of damn good times, bro. Nut up, we’re going out. We’ll have a good time. Plus, you’re a pussy magnet.”
“Oh, is that it?”
He stands up, shrugging. “I can’t tell you how many fucking times people have asked me if you’re related to that actor…Idris whatever his name is. Women see you coming and it’s like their legs just magically open up. That little hint of a French accent you’ve got doesn’t hurt a bit. Me, you, and a few Yankees players are going out tonight. I have the chance to wake up with multiple women in my bed tomorrow morning. This is a non-negotiable proposition my friend.”
I give in, not because of the partying, but because of the game. I’ve always loved major league baseball, and there’s nothing like seeing a game at Yankee Stadium.
“All right, man. But I’m gonna need to go back to my hotel and take a nap first. And can you arrange for my bags to be taken to the airport for me?”
Jack gives me a mock salute. “Done, sir. My loins thank you. They’re quivering in anticipation of finally getting some ass.”
“I don’t want to hear about your fucking loins, man.”
I shake my head as my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull my phone out and go to answer it, but when I see my mom’s name on the screen, I groan. She’s trying to convince me to stay with her for a few weeks in Greentree Falls, Wisconsin. I’ve taken her and Aunt Jo on a trip during each offseason for seven years now, and when we had to cancel this year because of Aunt Jo’s fall, she told me I could come there instead.
But there’s no way I’m going to Greentree Falls. I’d rather spend a few weeks in any other town in the country—the world, even—than step foot back in that town.
“Excuse me,” I say to Jack, stepping into the hallway to take my mom’s call, answering it with my usual, “Hey, Mom, how are you?”
“I’ve been better,” she says weakly.