And Then (Between the Teeth Book 2) by Taylor Fitzpatrick

Author:Taylor Fitzpatrick [Fitzpatrick, Taylor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

David prefers training to contract negotiations. That isn’t particularly surprising — even at the worst points, he knows training is making him a better player, but contract negotiations seem superfluous, ridiculous, a bunch of men in suits arguing over how much he’s worth.

David doesn’t know exactly how much he’s worth. David thinks it’s absurd to attempt to gauge someone’s worth. He still knows they’re offering less than they should because he had a bad stretch last season. A weakness that made him cheap.

He still knows he’s worth a lot more than the Islanders are offering.

No one in the NHL takes weekends off — the busiest day of the week is Saturday. Even so, contract negotiations take Saturday and Sunday off, because apparently executives do take weekends, at least in the offseason. Or maybe only the lawyers do. David doesn’t know. The weekend hasn’t been a particularly meaningful idea to him since he was in high school.

“Hey,” Dave says, in the middle of their first week of negotiation. “When’s the last time you got up to Ottawa?”

“I don’t know,” David says. “Our last game there was—”

“No, I mean properly,” Dave says.

David shrugs a little.

“Look,” Dave says. “It’d be good if we could get some positive press.”

“What do you mean?” David asks.

“Head up to Ottawa this weekend,” Dave says. “Sign some autographs, play with some kids. Be a good local boy. I can set stuff up.”

“I—” David starts, and then, because he doesn’t have a reasonable argument and Dave’s looking at him expectantly, “Okay.”

*

He sends his mother an email on Friday saying he’ll be in town Saturday. Pushes down the hope that she’s out of the country.

She calls him an hour later, and they make plans for lunch the next day.

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” she says. “Your room’s the same. A hotel would be a waste of money.”

“I’m not staying overnight,” David says.

Later he asks Dave to change his flight from Sunday morning to a Saturday red-eye so he isn’t a liar.

*

The first place Dave sends him is the old Civic Centre. David knows it well enough, even if he never played in it during Juniors, since the OHL didn’t want him. The boards deaden everything, he knows from playing there as a kid; you can’t count on ricochet the way you would anywhere else. It’s embarrassing the Senators ever played there, and not just because it has half the capacity of any modern arena.

They’re holding some children’s hockey event, and he’s apparently the special guest. It’s mostly kids hand in hand with their parents, who stand in the line for autographs, some bouncing on their toes, others looking bored.

There’s a stack of glossy photos of himself and a jar of black Sharpies ready for him. He can’t be more than seventeen in the picture — he’s wearing a Team Canada jersey instead of an Islanders one. There’s a pimple at the corner of his mouth. He wishes he’d been able to choose.

The first person without a child in hand greets him with a smile.

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