Page 49 of Don't Puck Up
I got out of the car and rested my hand on the driver’s door, leaning down to say goodbye. I didn’t want the night to end.
“So, Thanksgiving?” I asked.
“We’ll send you the details.”
“Looking forward to it.” I grinned, tapped the roof, and added, “Drive safely.”
“You too, man.”
I walked away, a spring in my step and a grin on my face. I couldn’t wait.
sixteen
Locke
Iwas inexplicably nervous getting out of my car at the shelter. The quiet road was blocked off, and there were nets at either end of the barricade. People, most of whom were kids, milled about outside behind roadworks barriers. Everyone was gathered at the far end, so I couldn’t quite see what was going on, but I was sure I’d soon find out.
As I approached the opening, the security guard blocked the entrance. I fished out the lanyard and volunteer pass that Kam had sent me and looped it around my neck. The guard smiled and moved aside.
“Hey, mate. Do you know where I can find Chris or Kam Minns?”
He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “Chris is in the midst of the kids, and Kam was inside, but I haven’t seen her recently.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
I headed over to Chris and called out to him. He popped his head up and grinned. “Locke, you made it!” he said as he walked over to me, his smile still firmly in place. When the group let out a disappointed sigh, he said over his shoulder, “Give me a sec to say hello to my friend, kids.”
He stepped closer and gave me a backslapping hug, and I held him tight for a moment. Before it could get weird, I said, “I’ve been looking forward to this since you invited me.”
Helooked good. Happy and full of smiles. The black jeans and sneakers he wore were casual, and his number seventeen jersey looked just as sexy on him without padding as with.
The crowd of younger kids were ignoring us, the excitement back in their tones as they talked animatedly about the game they were set to play. But a hush had fallen over the group of teenaged girls sitting off to the side. Then one squealed, and I winced, my ears ringing with the sound.
Chris closed his eyes and rubbed his ears. “Ouch. That happen often?”
“Sometimes.” I slid my hands into my pockets and shrugged, a little embarrassed that I’d caused a scene.
The excited rabble of girls descended like seagulls on an unattended serving of hot chips on the beach and spoke over one another, saying “Mr. Ledger,” “Locke,” and “Vigilante,” over and over, progressively louder.
A whistle from the sidelines had all of us looking up, and I couldn’t help my grin when I saw who it was. There at the top of the stairs leading into the building was Kam, her hair pulled back in a bun and a hairnet covering her head. She looked gorgeous wearing light blue jeans, ankle boots, and an apron over a bottle-green knitted jumper with the sleeves pushed up her arms. She lowered her hand from her mouth when everyone was silent and said, “Ladies, give Mr. Ledger some space, please.”
She trotted down the stairs with a grin on her face, and I read her apron. There were five stars on it with a quote that read, “Chef was cute would eat here again.” I chuckled and she hugged me tight. “Thanks for coming, Locke.”
“Thanks for the invitation. I just said to Chris that I’ve been looking forward to it.”
“We’re very glad to have you.” She patted my chest, turned to her husband, and said, “Lunch is about an hour away, so you’ve got plenty of time to run some games for the little kids.”
“Okay, baby.” He kissed her, and she grinned, then sashayed up the stairs again.
Chris went back to his gear bag, pulled out a whistle, and tossed it to me. He held his arms out in front of him. “Two lines, kids.” Then he said to me, “We’ll organize them according to height. We’ll do a couple of games for the little ones, then anyone who misses out can play in the afternoon. I’ve got stickers and jerseys for all the kids too.”
“I’ll hand out the jerseys if you like, then give the stickers out during lunch.”
He agreed, and I got to it, hunting through the bag he directed me to. It was filled to the brim with kids-sized jerseys from the littlest to the largest. I handed them to the kids that filed past me, took a photo of each one of them with Chris, and then he handed them a stick.
The next hour was chaos. There were excited kids running around, wielding their hockey sticks as weapons, and tennis balls flying everywhere. I couldn’t believe someone hadn’t been smacked in the head yet, but it was early days. Instead, there were smiles all around. Every single one of the little rug rats was grinning ear to ear in their too-big Seals’ jerseys. They high-fived one another when they got a goal past Chris. Even though we’d divided the teams equally, it soon turned into all of them against Chris, firing balls at him while he guarded the net. We’d long given up trying to play an actual game and the score was an exaggerated bajillion to nil, but it didn't matter. The kids were having a blast.
I was almost disappointed when the announcement was made that lunch was being served. I helped Chris pack up the hockey sticks and tennisballs littered all over the bitumen, and we each grabbed a bag of stickers to pass out to the kids.