Page 54 of Hockey Halloween
Brock
Brock didn’t get to see Felix for the next few days because of his current practice and game schedule.
His late nights didn’t mesh well with a daycare teacher, so they hadn’t crossed paths.
He’d had to make do with a few text exchanges, and it’d soured his mood.
It’d made him more irritable at practice, as his teammates noticed.
“Whoever it is,” Norman Ricci said after a particularly rough puck battle during a scrimmage, “please sort it out quick.”
Brock’s stomach dropped. “Wh-what?” he stammered. “I don’t?—”
Ricci stood up and wiped the snow off his hockey pants. He was as big and solidly built as Brock, so it wasn’t like he couldn’t take the hit, but no one liked being bulldozed during practice. “You only get this ornery when you’re into someone. Remember that guy in Chicago?”
Now Brock flushed and looked around to see if anyone was listening, but everyone was at the bench grabbing water. Most of the guys on the team knew that Brock was gay, but it still made him worried to talk about it even semi-publicly. Old habits and all that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brock grumbled.
He caught himself scowling and did his best to relax his face; based on Ricci’s skeptical look, he hadn’t done a good job.
“I just…invited my neighbor to the Halloween charity party, and he said yes, but I haven’t really gotten to see him since I invited him. I’m just…”
“Riled up?” Ricci offered. “Excited? Horny? Stop me when I find the right one.”
“Excited,” Brock said, if only to shut him up. Maybe some of the other stuff too but he didn’t need to talk about that.
“Sweet,” Ricci said. “ ‘bout time you had some luck in your love life. Can’t wait to meet him. But uh…try not to take the whole team out before Halloween. Save some of the aggression for the other teams and the energy for your date.”
He skated off before he could see Brock choking on his embarrassment.
Even though Ricci had a point. Brock needed to focus on hockey, channel his nerves into something productive, and then in six whole days when he got to actually go on his date with Felix, he’d be able to relax and give Felix the attention he deserved.
With that in mind, he went looking for Gwen after he’d finished his post-practice workout and showered off the hockey stank.
Her office was tucked away past the coaches.
It had a nice view of the Delaware River behind her desk, though she normally had her door open and faced the long hallway.
He very rarely sought her out, and she perked up when she saw him heading her way.
“Brock Warner.” She put down her cell phone and smiled like the cat who’d got the cream. “What brings you to my office?”
“About the Halloween party?—”
“Oh no.” Her expression immediately fell. She reached for a pad of paper and pen, already frantically scribbling notes. “Please don’t tell me you have to bail. No pressure if something’s come up, I’ll just need to?—”
“I’m not bailing,” he said in a rush. Watching her go into panic mode gave him second hand anxiety. “I promise. I wouldn’t unless it was an emergency.”
Gwen’s hand froze mid-sentence. “You can still go?”
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like I wouldn’t.”
“No, I’m sorry for freaking out.” She put down the pen, put a hand on her chest, and dramatically took a breath in and out.
She giggled, genuine relief and her ability to laugh at herself making Brock’s mouth twitch like he wanted to laugh along with her.
Almost. “This party is kind of my baby with the team, and I want it to go off perfectly so they’ll give me more control over events and social media going forward.
You know how frustrating it is to try and do fun stuff but I’ve got the octogenarians who own the team telling me my ideas ‘won’t connect with fans’?
” She said this part not only with air quotes but also with a great imitation of Gliders owner Patrick O’Shea’s voice, the deep baritone with a hint of an Irish lilt.
“Let me post the players being goofy and working out, dammit! I’ll have half the state following us on socials by the end of the first month. ”
Brock believed her. He also had no idea what to say to any of that, so he sidestepped it altogether. “So the Halloween party…”
“Right! What’s up?”
“Two things.” He opened his mouth, reconsidered how Gwen would react to the news of Felix, then changed his mind about where to start. “You said you’d get me a costume.”
“I had one shipped to your apartment. It should’ve been delivered. Fuck, did it not show up? I swear ?—”
“I don’t think it did, but we’ve been on that road trip. Sometimes packages go to the front desk when I’m out of town. I’ll look this evening. I just wanted to check. I promise, I can find a costume myself if I need to.”
Gwen shook her head and wagged a finger at him. “Nuh uh. I promised you a costume and dammit I’m gonna deliver!” She slapped her desk with the palm of her hand. “And it’s a good one for you. Fans’ll love it. Text me if it hasn’t shown up, promise?”
“I promise,” he said solemnly. “The other thing I wanted to mention is…well…I’m uhm…bringing a date.”
Gwen’s eyes went wide. She sucked in a deep breath, then let out a squee of delight. “Warner!” was all she got out, and Brock looked around to make sure no one was listening.
“Gwen,” he begged. “It’s not a big deal. I still do not want to have a public statement or anything, so this is more an appeal for help and?— ”
“Say no more! I’ll tell the camera crew to keep a respectful distance, I’ll field all inquiries, I’ll go with whatever line you want me to, but oh my God ! I’m so excited for you!” He could hear her stomp her feet in excitement under her desk. “Who is he?”
“His name’s Felix,” he confided, smiling slightly as he thought of Felix. “He’s my neighbor. I’ve wanted to ask him out for ages. He loves Halloween.”
“Please please please introduce us during the party! Seriously, Warner, this is awesome! A Halloween costume party.” She clasped her hands together and practically swooned. “So romantic!”
He blushed and grumbled through some thanks before hammering out a few more details with her.
Gwen updated her notes on how to handle any probing, overly personal questions they might get about it, and coached him through how to politely say fuck off to the press and nosy fans.
It exhausted his limited social battery, and by the time he got home, all he wanted to do was eat and sleep.
But he made a stop at the front desk of his apartment building like he’d promised and checked for packages.
There were a couple small boxes from his parents (who’d never quite learned that as a 32-year-old man, he didn’t need weekly care packages anymore), and a much larger one that looked promising.
He took his little stack to his apartment, daydreaming of the pecan squares and jalapeno popcorn that his parents always sent.
It wasn’t until after he’d eaten a dinner’s worth of snacks that he remembered the potential costume.
The large box was surprisingly heavy. He hadn’t worn a Halloween costume in years, but weren’t they usually thin cloth with cheap plastic accessories? He used his keys to tear open the box, only to be confronted with a lot of plush blue fur.
“What the actual hell?” Brock said to himself as he pulled out what felt like miles of baby blue.
When he held it up in front of him at arm’s length, he discovered it was a onesie.
The blue gave way to a white belly with a storm cloud raining hearts.
When he turned it to inspect the back, he found a hood with bear ears.
His bafflement slowly gave way to understanding as he recognized the character from his childhood .
He was going to attend the Gliders’ costume party as a Care Bear. Not just any Care Bear, either, but Grumpy Bear.
“It’s a little on the nose,” he grumbled.
It at least looked like it’d fit, and he figured everyone would get a good laugh out of it.
Brock knew he had a reputation for being gruff both on and off the ice.
When he was younger, he’d tried to fight it, but the mental effort involved in trying to smile more and engage in small talk had caused his playing to slip.
It was bad enough that a coach had noticed and taken him aside.
“You’re not a ball of sunshine,” he’d said. “You’re a hockey player. Do what you gotta do to be a better hockey player. No one’s gonna be upset if you tell them to fuck off when you’re a plus 30.”
So he’d learned to relax and just be himself.
Yeah, his team gave him shit for scowling more than smiling, but in that affectionate way only teammates could.
At least no one would expect him to smile in pictures at the event.
It was a nice built in excuse not to have to pay attention to what his face was doing.
“Message received,” he said with a sigh and carefully folded the costume back up. “I’m a grump.”
Brock: got the costume thanks again gwen
Gwen: np!! what do you think??? perfect right?
Brock: har har you’re very clever.
Gwen: