Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

BECCA

The next evening, Becca collapsed in her bed, looked at her cell phone, and sighed heavily. She downloaded Travis’s photo and made it her new wallpaper and lock screen on her cell phone just like some infatuated girl, before texting him back.

Hey, I am sooo sorry.

I don’t know what is going on in the world or why people feel like they don’t have to show up at work – but this has to be the longest work week in the universe. Twelve hours on my feet, in heels, is a nightmare for anyone.

Clicking send, she saw three dots appear almost instantly.

I get it – really, I do. You don’t even want to know how my afternoon went…

Share the misery, lay it on me!

I’m sitting in an ice bath right now, trying to keep my body from being inflamed due to the abuse it took this afternoon.

Everything hurts, including the cowlick on my head.

LOL – cowlicks don’t have feelings.

Tell that to mine.

And to her surprise, Travis texted her a photo of him in the ice bath. You couldn’t see anything but from the torso up – and she might have had a huge issue if that photo was any different from the one before her. Becca nearly swallowed her tongue seeing his tanned shoulders and the expression on his face. He did look exhausted, but there was this peaceful-looking smile that did something to her heart. He had a small scar on his shoulder, another on his collarbone, and a few bruises that were obviously healing, leaving a few greenish-purplish marks.

If we’re having a contest, then you win. I’m not taking a picture of my abused feet because you might be a weirdo.

I assure you that I’m not – and thank you.

Thank you?

If your feet look anything like mine – then I’ll pass, no offense.

Gee, thanks, I think.

It’s a joke.

I was hoping so.

What did you think of your surprise? I hope you liked it.

What surprise?

Her phone rang at that moment .

“Helloooo?” she said in an exaggerated manner, knowing already who it was. “What surprise?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No – and by the way, you don’t have to keep doing this. I’m still coming for macaroni and cheese on Friday.”

“There should have been a box on your doorstep. I received a notification at three that it was delivered.”

“Let me go check again.”

“Don’t worry about it…” he muttered in obvious frustration. “And I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a few snooping Frenchmen around me making all sorts of obscene gestures while I’m a captive audience because of the ice bath. I’ve got a few more minutes before I need to get out and…”

“Ah ha!” Becca interrupted, spotting a small white bag tucked neatly behind the large fake potted plant she had on the stoop to make her place feel homey. “It was hidden.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighed in relief. “I’ll call you in a bit, okay?”

“I was actually going to turn in early.”

“Then just text me – and get some rest.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Do you mind me sitting in an ice bath and calling you?”

“No, I kinda feel bad that you’re hurting.”

“Same – so rest those feet, Becca.”

“Thanks, Travis,” she uttered openly because it was really nice to have someone that seemed to understand and allowed her to be her own person. “I appreciate it.”

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I was bossy and demanding of your time?”

“Are you my boyfriend?”

“Well, technically, we’ll be dating in, oh - let’s say - three more days…”

She laughed softly and heard his chuckle, treasuring it. Whatever this was, it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to who wasn’t pus hing her around or telling her what to do. She’d dated a few jerks and bristled at being told how to do something – and always had.

“Then I guess maybe you might be my boyfriend,” she replied softly.

“I hope so.”

“See you Friday,” she said simply, as a way of saying ‘bye’.

“See you Friday, Becca.”

Hanging up the phone, she stared at the white bag curiously. Padding toward the kitchen, she grabbed a tiny box knife that she used to open anything she got in the mail and sliced the tape at the top of the bag. She was always one of those ‘let’s keep the bag and use it again next Christmas’ sort of person, whereas her younger brother Luke was the exact opposite. The man was a human paper shredder – and one bag would end up in fifteen pieces scattered around the room.

Dumping the contents of the bag on the counter, her eyes grew huge.

“What in the…”

There, on the counter, was a tiny, white velvet box. It looked like it was about three inches squared, so maybe her mind was freaking out over nothing. It could be an ornament, or a key chain, or possibly an air freshener, or anything else but jewelry, right? Sliding the lid off, she swallowed.

It was jewelry.

There, on a velvet background, was a tiny hockey stick charm that looked like it was sterling silver with gold markings – hanging on a thin silver necklace. She started to pick it up, saw how badly her hands were trembling, and immediately put it back down, stepping away and calling Travis back.

“Hello?”

“Dude…” she breathed, unsure of what else to say. “I’m a nobody – and that’s not nothing.”

“Double negatives – I guess I’ve impressed you? ”

“You can’t… this isn’t… why would you do something like this ?”

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not a hockey fanatic. I barely know what the parts are of a game. The y’all wave a bunch of stick thingies around, wear bulky uniforms, hack at a puck like it’s some rabid animal trying to get away, and then take your breaks when the macaroni machine…”

“Zamboni,” he corrected with a chuckle.

“My point exactly,” she retorted, waving her hand. “You’re too nice, and I’m not a duck-bunny.”

“Puck-bunny.”

“THAT,” she blurted out. “I’m not a puck-bunny about to throw down. I’m a good girl, from a good home, in a small town, with older brothers who would tear you limb from limb for taking liberties with me. Jewelry is a big deal with people who date – and we’re not dating… yet,” she finished lamely.

“Then I won’t,” he said simply, stopping her in her tracks. “And I’d love to meet your family because even though we aren’t dating… yet,” he paused softly, and she heard the tenderness in his voice. “I’m a normal guy who’s had to grow up a lot. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but I don’t think that asking you out is one of them. If you don’t like the necklace, then exchange it for something you do like.”

“How many of those have you given out?” she asked bluntly, bracing herself.

“One – to my mother before she died,” he answered quietly, and she could hear the locker room around him. “When I got my first gig, I bought her a necklace with my first check because I wanted her to be proud of me.”

“Oh.”

“May I call you back shortly? I’m about to get out of the ice bath and throw on my stuff so I can head home to rest for the game tomorrow.”

“Yes – please.”

Hanging up the phone, she stood there in the kitchen for several minutes, eye ing the necklace. It was lovely. A sentimental little token that represented something he loved. She wasn’t sure why she was freaking out because it wasn’t a diamond, nor was it gold, and she mentally kicked herself.

“You are trying to justify and minimize it because Travis is probably the nicest guy you’ve ever met,” she whispered aloud to herself, her finger tracing the tiny hockey stick. “None of those other guys you’ve met for coffee or went to dinner with would have ever thought to get you roses or something so sweet as this.”

And she lifted the necklace from the box, almost like she was handling a snake, waiting for it to strike her. What was she scared of? Travis had gone out of his way from the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him to make her feel special – like she mattered. It wasn’t casual flirting but sweet things that seemed to mean so much more.

He wanted her to wear his number, giving her the jersey. Could he have done that for any girl in the stands… sure – but he didn’t. He picked her, singled her out, gave her his phone number even though it backfired, and still was making every effort to show that he was a nice guy.

“He’s a really nice guy… and I’m an idiot.”

It was almost ten minutes before her phone rang again – and she was wearing the necklace, unable to stop touching the fragile hockey stick charm that hung just below her clavicle and above her heart.

“Hey, sorry it took me a few minutes. Traffic is pretty bad downtown for some reason and…”

“Travis?” she interrupted quietly. “Thank you.”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome,” he finished and hesitated. “I would be honored if you felt like coming to see a game again or wanted to wear it. I could get you ring-side tickets – and it’s no pressure – but it would be really nice to see a familiar face in the stands.”

“Maybe I would go again if you were playing.”

“We could see the competition together,” he chuckled. “I’d love to goad a fe w guys off the ice – especially one or two that threw a punch my way.” And she laughed nervously, touching the necklace and looking at the roses nearby.

“I don’t mean to be weird, it’s just… this is a lot,” she admitted. “It’s completely flattering but not necessary. I would still meet you for mac-and-cheese.”

“I wish you were off tomorrow – or that it was already Friday.”

“I’ll try to catch the highlights of the game,” she hedged. “And I’ll be wearing my necklace, wishing you on, as I field all the customer service questions.”

“That sounds like a plan,” he chuckled. “And I’m serious about the tickets or meeting your family. I could get tickets for everyone if you wanted to bring them or…”

“You really want to meet them?”

“If I’m dating you – yes.”

“My brother is doing a barbecue at the farm this weekend. It’s a bit of a drive, but if you want to meet them – it’s probably going to be pretty laid back. They’re kinda nosy, ask a lot of questions, and will be completely annoying or embarrassing.”

“That sounds perfect, and I guess I should mention that my uncle lives in my house and has taken care of things for a few years now. So, you’ll probably see him Friday night.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, that’s really nice and normal.”

“That’s me,” he chuckled, sounding embarrassed.

“I adore nice and normal.”

“Oh well, then that’s definitely me,” he volunteered, making them both laugh easily. She was enjoying the conversation between them, and it seemed so easy to share her thoughts or feelings. He never pushed her, never seemed to balk at her feelings or attention, but rather seemed to respect the fact that she wasn’t a pushover.

“Bring your uncle this weekend,” she volunteered. “It can be a family and friends get-together.”

“Then it’s a very strange first date.”

“It would be – but it might be nice. ”

“Would we have… a little time alone?” he paused quietly. “I mean, I think it might be healthy for me to avoid kissing my girlfriend, just in case your brothers are bigger than me. I’m not chicken, just smart.” Becca couldn’t help but smile at his comment as her cheeks grew warm at the thought of kissing Travis.

“I suppose when we drove back, perhaps you might be able to sneak a kiss before the evening is over.”

“I would really like that – and it sounds like a perfect evening.”

“Mac-and-cheese combined with nerdiness on Friday, then barbecue on Saturday, followed by a kiss good night,” she replied, recapping the conversation playfully.

“Sounds like heaven – unless you want me to swing by and kiss you good night this evening?”

“Nuh-uh, buster,” she smirked. “This good girl is about to go to bed – and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“True,” he chuckled. “The evening before game night, I always carb-load and watch a movie to relax my thoughts, so I’m not doing plays in my head all night long.”

“Good idea.”

“Yup. I’ll head home, eat a ton of veggies, pasta, and lean meats until my belly sticks out, then watch Star Wars or Battlestar Galactica…”

“Ah ha, so it’s that kind of nerd, huh?”

“Should I brace for rejection?”

“Nahhh. It just gives me an idea of how to dress for our date.”

“Just be here, and I’ll be thrilled.”

“I will be. Good luck tomorrow, and I’ll see you Friday.”

Less than twenty-four hours later, Becca was adding a phone line to a customer’s plan when she heard several people exclaim in unison at the television that was hanging on the wall in the distance . Looking up, her mouth dropped open in shock as the form of a man in a green and gray uniform slid across the ice, his body limp, leaving a trail of blood as silence fell in the building.

“What just happened?!” she exclaimed in a panic, not sure if she was going to throw up or faint – but she knew that something terrible had occurred on the ice. As the camera zoomed in and a fistfight broke out in the distance, along with another scattered flurry of punches by his teammates, she saw the camera focus on the injured uniform.

Number eighty.

Travis.

Grabbing her purse, leaving out the front door without clocking out, Becca hollered over her shoulder at the stunned people she was leaving behind.

“I’ve gotta go!”