Career game

The remainder of our meal goes rather normally yet I become a bit reprehensive about driving Jamie to the theatre. As we leave the restaurant I inquire, “Are you sure you want me to drive you there? Won’t you be embarrassed to show up in a mere coupe?”

“Well being enviro friendly is trendy right now so no one is driving those dinofuel pigs you love so much.” Jamie replies as though I don’t know anything about anything.

Again with the subtle **** on my choice of secondary vehicles and her fathers business it irritates me like salt on an open wound, “Well that dinofuel paid for you and your sisters schooling and I suspect provided some start-up funds for a private spa?” With a little more vinegar in my tone that planned I finish, “So perhaps let’s show a little respect for a self-made man?”

“You’re not...”

Cutting off what is surely a witty insult to my personality, “I mean your dad, or did you forget that he is an oilfield contractor himself?”

Jamie simply turns from me and purposefully walks to the car and gets in. A very quiet 20 minutes later we pull into a lineup of vehicles on Sunset Boulevard waiting to drop off their passengers at the theatre. As we slowly begin our progress up the line Jamie finally breaks the silence with polite and honourific explanations of her thoughts on the environment and her dads hardwork. Without actually saying the words, this was very clearly an apology.

I hear an subtle announcement from the few paparazzi on the sidewalk about the next car ‘Just a pair of nobodies’, “We’re next Jamie, if you need me to pick you up after the game just text me.”

As the valet opens the door for Jamie I motion off the gentleman coming to my door. Before she get out Jamie turns to me and has a mile deep stare into my eyes. “Thank you for tonight Mark. I only wish it was you taking me to the movie.” Cupping the left side of my face with her right hand she turns my head to look at her squarely. Leaning into me she presses her lips firmly to mine in a drawn out passion filled closed mouth kiss. “Good luck with your game tonight.”

I am snapped back to reality when the valet knocks on my window and indicates for me to move along. The next few hours pass in a complete daze for me. Jamie kissed me, really kissed me, not a mocking kiss, not a fuck me kiss, but a kiss that is a confession of something else, something more.

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“Holy fuck man, you keep playing like that and I am going to be second fiddle. Shit let me guess, you could always play like that and you just didn’t want to go to the all star game next weekend. Maybe I should call in sick and you can take my place? I could use a week on a beach.” Drew jokes with me as we finish changing in our stalls after the press has left us. As I lean over to strip off the last of my gear an elbow solidly jabs me in the side and Drew’s voice in a whisper warns, “Look out man, misses at 10 o’clock.”

Confused about this I look up and sashaying through the press of camerapeople, interviewers, and hockey players is Jamie. Not having been to a game since I was called up 2 seasons ago the appearance of her here in the locker room takes me by surprise.

“What the hell Jamie? You’re not supposed to be in here after a game, it’s press and players only.” I curtly snap at my sister-in-law.

A solid elbow spears me in the ribs drawing my attention, “Chill out man, if my wife dressed like that, she could say hi middle of the second when down by two. You won us that game, enjoy your reward.” A Russian accent pipes up from the opposite side stall.

Turning back to Jamie the rooms normal dull roar has fallen to almost nonexistence as almost everyone of my teammates have fallen silent watching her. Across from me our team captain has a shit eating grin as he gives me a solid thumbs up hiding it from Jamie’s view.