The Cocky Hockey Captain

Chapter 2 ● Silver Grove

The silence stretched for long enough that the song ended. The playlist played another random song that didn't sound any friendlier, but I had to give the old man kudos for sucking it up.

We made a stop at a gas station that appeared to be miles away from human civilization. I saw a cow grazing at the back and snorted. Was this what my life was going to be like now? Then I shuddered because it really was fucking cold.

Once we got back on the car I asked, "What if I die of pneumonia?"

"I heard that there's no such thing as bad weather, but bad clothes."

I shifted in my seat to face him. "Let's have it, then. What else did you hear from this mythical creature that gave you a response to everything?"

Dad gave me a wry smile. "It must be the same person who taught you how to be a smartass with anything I say, huh?"

"It must be."

He startled as some salsa music started playing from my playlist, but cranked up the volume just a little higher, as though craving for a piece of the tropics already. I couldn't fault him for that.

"Well, I heard people are very friendly in Silver Grove, so I'm sure we'll make some friends. And that aside from hockey, the town's specialty is bear claw pastries glazed in maple syrup."

That sounded disgustingly Canadian. I hated it already just as much as I wanted to try one.

"And that's about it."

I let out a cross between a laugh and a snort. "That's it? Sounds just like Manhattan, or something."

"It won't be for long," he said. "It may take me anywhere between a month and a year to fix things here, and then we'll both be back to Florida."

"You say it like that's not already going to derail my entire senior year."

Dad pushed his sunglasses up his nose again. "I know that, chiquita. But I didn't want you to feel like I was abandoning you." Something preoccupied him from noticing that with that stroke, he'd driven the knife of guilt effectively all the way into my heart and won the war. But then the reason for his preoccupation tumbled out of his mouth. "Besides, if I don't fix this quickly the executive committee's going to go into a panic. It'll help me a lot if I don't have to worry about you on top of that."

I grinded my teeth so hard it was a wonder I didn't run them down. Forget about the guilt, I was pissed now. One thing was that the company had some sort of trouble, a whole other one was that I was just an afterthought about it. Why was it that no matter what, it always seemed like I was only second priority to him?

He kept talking after that but I didn't listen. I flipped through my playlist and turned up the volume until he finally got the hint.

It was dark by the time we passed the sign saying Welcome to Silver Grove, Home of The St. Andrews Bears. I decided that if the whole reason I was forced to come here was so that he wouldn't have to worry about me, then I had to make him sick with worry about me. I started to formulate a plan to do that as we got out of the car at a convenience store to buy some groceries for the night without knowing that in the next 24 hours or so I'd learn that life had a funny but powerful way to heed a person's deepest desires.

I stomped into the store after dad and veered off to the section with beers. All they had was a brand called Molson, and sure, it wasn't like I was going to be able to buy it, but I'd get a kick out of the embarrassment dad would feel when I tried anyway. I grabbed a case and found him chatting with the cashier, who was probably the owner of the store. The portly man looked like a real life version of Santa Claus.