Page 6 of The Sweet Spot (Kodiaks Hockey #3)
Chapter Six
Brandon
B eing back home for a week had its pros and cons. I enjoyed spending time with my little brother, but it got combative pretty fast with my parents. As usual, Dad was harping on the team, why it had taken me so long to become captain, and why Coach Anthony didn’t demand that certain players be traded. He then rattled on about the neighbors refusing to trim their trees and that the neighborhood had standards, and the Johnsons weren’t meeting them. I had no idea how Mom tolerated him, but then again, she was a lot like him. She hadn’t always been that way, but he’d likely worn her down over the years, sucked her into his dark side, a place she went to willingly.
How many times had Brooke and I come home from school terrified of what the day would bring? I couldn’t remember a time when either of my parents told us we’d done a good job or that they were proud of us. I took the brunt of the abuse because I don’t think Dad liked laying a hand on a girl or woman because I’d never seen him touch Mom or Brooke. That didn’t mean he stopped dishing out verbal abuse or that Mom didn’t lose it with Brooke and slap her around.
As the youngest by a lot, Bailey got more of a pass, but still, it was no picnic for him when Brooke went out East for school, and I took off to Ontario for Juniors. At least by then, they’d mellowed out a bit. Instead of throwing fists, Dad was throwing insults. I don’t know if that was better, but it seemed to be, although I’d been subject to that, too.
I just had to think back to my peewee hockey days and how Dad drove every single one of my coaches crazy, to the point that a few threatened to ban him from the rink. Playing out East for Juniors was far enough away that Dad wouldn’t come out, so the plan had succeeded.
And then I thought of my time with Tangi when she’d been my physiotherapist as I rehabbed my bum knee. She’d had a way of presenting to me in the nicest way possible—without knowing Dad—that I was just like him. I expected way too much from my teammates to the point they would ban me from the rink if they could. The only thing I never did or even considered was raising a hand to any of them, not that they wouldn’t fight back or kick the shit out of me.
It had taken time and self-awareness to realize that I couldn’t expect my teammates to meet my expectations. More importantly, I had to let shit go when we had a bad game. I couldn’t blame anyone or pick away at them until they saw my way of doing things. And when Jeremy Vaughn had been stupid enough to sleep around with a teammate’s wife, I had my chance to prove I wasn’t an overbearing asshole when Coach Anthony stripped the captaincy from Vaughn and named me co-captain of the team with Ethan. The whole year had been a struggle not to demand more or too much from my teammates. With Ethan Grant as my co-captain and the “nice guy” on the team, we were the perfect balance of good cop-bad cop, except that I’d shown my teammates I wasn’t the bad cop. Well, maybe an ornery one at times because I couldn’t let them slide all the time.
So getting away from home after visiting for less than a week seemed like the smart thing to do. It was too early to go back to Vancouver, so I spent a few weeks in Sudbury, the town I’d played Juniors in. I had friends there and, of course, the family I’d stayed with while I was in Juniors. The Hewsons were amazing people, and their two sons had been fun hanging out with, even though they were a few years younger. Now they’d both gotten married and Harris, the older Hewson, was about to start a family. Where had all the time gone by? I’d always assumed that I’d be married by now, maybe even with a kid or two, but it had never happened. Other than Tangi, I’d never met a woman I wanted to know and spend time with enough to want that.
By the time I got back to Vancouver with training camp less than two weeks away, I didn’t know how I felt about life. I was hurtling toward thirty, I was single, and the best years of my career had likely passed me by. And I was going to an empty apartment. I still hadn’t put down roots in Vancouver because I was living the bachelor life. I didn’t need to have a house, and I hadn’t pulled the trigger and bought a downtown condo like most of the guys. I’d left myself unattached in more ways than one.
Imagine my surprise early one afternoon while I was trying to decide whether to go for a run or a workout when my phone rang, and Wolseley’s name popped up on my screen. I’d all but forgotten about her, assuming that she hadn’t been interested in the job. As far as I could tell, Ryan hadn’t hired her either.
“Hello, Wolseley,” I said .
“Hey, hi, Brandon. I guess you know it’s me,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“We did exchange numbers,” I said as pleasantly as possible, even though I didn’t sound pleasant. I’d have to work on that. I had an idea why she was calling, so no need to scare her off.
“Right, yes, we did. What did people do before the call display? They guessed? I mean, how awful is that? What if it’s someone you don’t want to talk to, and now you’re forced into it because you picked up the phone? Have you ever used a rotary phone? Up until a few years ago, my grandparents still had one.” That laugh again, almost a giggle that made her endearing.
“No, can’t say I’ve ever used one.” The conversation had been perplexing, but her digressions did make me want to laugh.
“Enough about that. I didn’t call to talk about rotary phones. I know a ton of time has passed since Tangi and Ethan’s wedding, and it’s probably way too late, and you’ve likely hired someone because I couldn’t get my shit together, but if you’re still looking for a private chef, I’m available.”
I’d forgotten to look for someone. Actually, I’d had no desire to. Maybe I was lazy, or maybe it was too daunting. I’d had no idea where to start. It wasn’t like I didn’t have the time.
“I haven’t hired anyone. I’m assuming you’d be willing to relocate?”
“Definitely. It’s time for a fresh start. I’ve been living with my parents for the last two and a half weeks, and I’ve come to realize I don’t like doing that. Not even a little. I don’t expect you to just hire me. You’ll probably want a private taste testing, and I am happy to do that. My plan is to fly up to Vancouver on the weekend. Tangi and Ethan have been kind enough to let me stay in their condo, so I just need a day or two to scout out places to get groceries, and then I can come up with a menu. I do have a few chef friends in Vancouver, and I’m sure they can recommend places, but it’s important that I find my own spots, you know?”
She talked a lot, but I chalked it up to nerves. “All right, but I have tried your food. I have an idea.”
“No, we have to do this the right way. So if you don’t mind, take the next day or two to think about what you want. My specialty is vegan and vegetarian, but if you’d also like poultry or beef and pork, I can make that work too. I don’t enjoy cooking with it, but I can. I also am perfectly happy to work with fish, but so you know, I am a strict vegetarian, so I can’t always guarantee it will be perfectly seasoned. I won’t try it, and that’s nonnegotiable for me.”
“I figured you were a vegetarian,” I said, sitting on my sofa and opening Google on my iPad. Her restaurant website was still up, so I looked over the menu. Everything sounded great, if not a little carb-heavy, but that was good when I needed the extra calories and energy.
“I know that’s a strike against me.”
“It’s not a big deal. I am looking for a more plant-based diet. I do still want to incorporate poultry and fish, but if it needs a little salt, I can sprinkle it on myself.”
She giggled again, which elicited a chuckle from me.
“I will do my best to season it properly.”
“I’m not worried about that. And as for diet, I’m looking for a lot of protein, some complex carbs, and a balance of good fats. My focus is to stay away from simple carbs and too much complex carbs while still staying full. That’s not to say that I won’t still be eating a lot of them, especially after games.”
“I totally understand. I’ve been doing my research and talking to some private chef friends. I’ve got some great ideas.”
She did seem prepared for the call even though she came off a bit flaky, although it was endearing. “Okay, then when you get to town, and you’ve settled in, let’s get together for a taste testing. We can also discuss salary expectations.”
“Sounds good.”
I got off the phone and googled what it cost for private chefs because there was no way I was going to let her get away.