Page 113 of Against The Boards

“Is this because of Tristan?” I asked.

She sighed. “Yes, your brother put a lot of things into perspective for us. Helped both of us see that nothing about you would ever change.”

This sorta explained why Tristan constantly told me our parents would come around and that maybe I should reach out to them. He was being a little sneak and trying to be the family mediator!

“Now tell me about the guy,” she changed the subject.

I cringed. “He’s a hockey player.”

“Roxie, no! Being a WAG is so hard.”

I laughed. “Mom, you were a WAG!”

She laughed with me. “It’s so hard with them being away all the time. Then when they get hurt, you can’t take the pain away from them, no matter how much you want to. But tell me about him.”

So I did. I talked to my mom for the first time in years and told her all about Benny and our whirlwind romance. It was so odd.

I still had apprehension about forgiving my mom, but if she was willing to work at it with me, I was willing to try it too. Our relationship had never been perfect, and it would take a lot to rebuild it, but I would try if she would. It was never too late to say sorry; I knew that better than anyone.

Chapter Thirty-Two

BENNY

I watched Riley flying across the ice, doing laps. When I got traded to the Bulldogs from the Colorado Blizzard, I wasn’t sure what it was going to mean. I didn’t even know if the team was going to re-sign me. I spent a year in limbo, and Riley helped me out of my funk. Then the team turned around and signed me to a five-year contract.

Riley skated over to the bench and sprayed ice on me with a cheeky grin. “Dick!” I exclaimed, but I grinned, too.

He poked at my stick with his. “What’s with all the rainbow tape? You didn’t use to use it all the time,” he pointed out.

I liked the diversity stuff we did in the league, even though I still saw a lot of toxic masculinity and racism in hockey. Rox’s worries about the media’s perception of me if I had fought that guy in Canada weren’t unfounded. I was a brown guy who played hockey and was constantly scrutinized by the media in a predominately white sport. I’d seen my fair share of racist shit in the game over the years.

Last season, some douche playing for San Jose called me a Mexican slur, and nothing fucking happened. No fine, not even a penalty, so I knew the league still had a long way to go. It wasn’t just race stuff, either. Some guys might sneer at you on the ice using a gay slur too. In my case, sometimes it was a gay and racist slur. I wanted to be a part of the culture change. Maybe that was part of the reason I wrapped the top of my stick with rainbow tape.

Riley nudged me. “Well?”

“You know my sister’s gay,” I said.

“Yeah, but you usually only use the rainbow tape when we’re asked to,” he argued back.

“Rox is bisexual.”

“Oh. Right. So you gonna use that tape from now on?”

“Why not?” I asked.

We skated to center ice and started doing shooting drills. Riley wanted to focus on what we were doing wrong and what he could do to help defend the net. Wouldn’t have been surprised if he made me watch video after we were done today. The guy was obsessed with stats and going back to watch as much video as possible. He’d probably be an excellent coach after he retired. If G wasn’t already the captain, he would have been next in line. He already had the “A” on his jersey.

“So how pissed was Rox about the Boston reports?” Riley asked when he blocked my shot into the net.

I sighed. “Don’t remind me. We almost broke up because of it.”

“Dude, I TOLD you she would be pissed.”

“I put it out there that if they were thinking of trading me, I wanted to go to Boston, but I want to stay here.”

Riley laughed at me again. “You’re a dumbass.”

“I know. I should have listened to you. I almost lost her today.” I shot the puck past him into the net.