Page 91 of Home Ice

Max paused. “A waitlist?”

“Not taking new commissions ever is retirement. I’m not retired.”

“A waitlist,” he said, typing. “The craftsman boyfriend has an eighteen-month waitlist. Niko, I couldn’t build you better marketing with a budget. Do you understand that everything you do to get away from this makes it worse in the best possible way? No. Don’t answer.” He finished typing and pocketed the phone. “The form’s live. The number comes down within the hour. If any reporter gets through anyway, you say nothing. Hang up and text me, and I’ll handle it without ever bringing it up again.”

“You won’t hurt anyone, will you?”

Max laughed. He picked up his coffee and drank it. “Everything flipped at the arena already. The day after the video, the boos ended.”

“You did that.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He smiled and gathered himself up to go, patting his pockets. I retrieved his sunglasses from the finishing bench and held them out. He took them and then stopped at the door.

“Tacos this Sunday. Ma’s expecting both of you. And Niko, the form has a field where they describe what they want. You’re going to want to read some of those out loud at dinner. There are a lot of unwell people in the world.”

As soon as he left, the phone rang into the full mailbox one more time. I unplugged the machine from the wall.

Five minutes after Max left, the bell above the door rang, and Rafe walked in carrying a paper bag.

“Practice ran short,” he said. “Markel’s saving our legs for the game tomorrow. I brought sandwiches for lunch.”

He put the bag on the end of the bench, took his coat off, and sat on a stool. “Banh mi,” he said. “I hope I pronounced it right. Kieran suggested it.” He unwrapped both of our sandwiches.

He stayed for twenty more minutes after we finished eating. His phone chimed.

“That means nap time in fifteen minutes. We’re going to dinner at Heath and Kieran’s after.”

I let him go. Naps were crucial equipment for an elite hockey forward.

“Tomorrow’s game is against Minnesota,” he said. “Eight o’clock start because of the broadcast.”

He reached for my chin, gave me a quick kiss, and then was gone.

Tomorrow would be the second home game since the video.

***

Heath and Kieran’s building had a doorman who was expecting us. Rafe had texted ahead, so the wine I was carrying had already been discussed.

Varga met us at the apartment door. He didn’t say hello. He held out one hand, and I put the bottle in it. Squinting, he read the label at arm’s length.

“Zinfandel,” he announced. “The carpenter brings zinfandel.” He turned it and read the back. Then he looked at me over the bottle. “This is correct. Come in. If it had been Pinot Noir, you could still have come in, but I would have had to make a note on my phone.”

The apartment was crowded, and it smelled of garlic and browned meat. I recognized all the players from TV broadcasts. Trier was on the couch with a beer. Rook had claimed an old, overstuffed chair. Heath was in the kitchen doorway wearing the walleye apron, and past him Kieran stood at the stove with steam going up around his face.

Rafe immediately turned the conversation toward me. “Niko, tell them about the CNC contract offer.”

“A company offered to send me a robot that cuts joinery,” I said, “because of a video that featured my hands.”

Trier nodded slowly. “That’s the most corporate thing I’ve ever heard, and my skates have a sponsor.” He pointed his beer at me. “While I have you. Cat trees. I’m looking at one online that claims to be solid wood, and the reviews are split. Peaches is fourteen and deserves better than particleboard. What am I looking for to verify?”

“Weight,” I said. “If the shipping’s cheap, it’s not genuine wood.”

“Weight.” He sat back, satisfied. “I knew it would be something easy like that.”

Dinner was short ribs by popular demand, and the table talk was mostly hockey. Rook talked about Minnesota’s forecheck. Rafe said their third pair would get caught flat if you made them turn twice. Rook said after next season analyzing the clips would become Rafe’s job because Rook would be sitting in a recliner at home watching movies.

“You’ll be at half the practices and all the games,” Varga said.