She's Not a Fan

Chapter 6

Cycling didn’t usually make Sarah anxious, but today she had butterflies as she wheeled her bike to the edge of the path, and joined Mike.  He was leaning casually against his bike and smiled when he saw her.

“Have you been waiting long?” she asked as she pulled up beside him.

“No, just got here.”  He hitched a backpack over his shoulders, shifting it to avoid his right side.  “Ready to go?”

They cycled north along the paved pathway running parallel to the river.  A gentle warm breeze stirred the leaves on the trees lining the river.  The leaves were changing colour and brilliant reds, oranges and yellows reflected in the sunlight. 

Other cyclists shared the path in both directions.  They passed a family with two young boys, and Sarah listened to their excited voices when they recognized Mike.  Mike pulled up beside her on the path.

“Sounds like part of your fan club,” Sarah remarked.

Mike laughed.  “It’s hard to hide.”

“Do you get that a lot, people recognizing you?”  She had been on the ice for less than one minute and people were stopping and asking her about it.  She couldn’t imagine how it was for him.

“Yeah.  We’re pretty lucky with the fan support.  It really helps the team.”

No mention of how hard it would be for him.  “Do you mind it?” she asked curiously.

Mike looked over at her, considering.  “It’s part of the whole deal.”  He shrugged.   “It's easier sometimes than others.   The ‘Quakes, in general, take it pretty seriously.  The responsibility of being a role model whether you want to or not.”

She knew how that went.  Exhibit A.  She was wearing a bicycle helmet.  Was she looking forward to the helmet hairdo when the helmet came off at lunch?  No, she was not.  Did she still don the helmet this morning?  Yes, she did.  Oh well, she sighed.  Maybe it would add to the whole dissuasion thing. 

“How’s the rib?” Sarah asked, trying to remember this was just an outing to assess his ability to play.  So far he hadn’t complained and didn’t have any trouble keeping up.

“It’s great.  I tell you, it’s just bruised and it’s one hundred per cent better now.”

Close to noon, they stopped by the river and leaned their bikes against the trees.  They sat down on the rocks by the water.   Mike gingerly slipped off his backpack and passed her an enormous sandwich on fresh bread, filled with spicy chicken, grilled eggplant and cheese. 

“This is delicious.  Did you make this?” she asked.

Mike laughed. “You ask that as if it wasn’t possible.”

She just raised her eyebrows at him.

He laughed.  “Well, no.  But actually, I do cook.  I get tired of eating take-out and I don’t go to a lot of restaurants.” He shrugged.

“Too much of a sensation?” Sarah teased.

“Mmmm.  Especially if I actually want to eat and not spend the whole time signing autographs.  I’ll have to have you over and make my special spaghetti and white sauce.”

“White sauce, eh?  I would have taken you for a spaghetti and meatballs with tomato sauce kind of guy,” she teased, trying to avoid having to deal with the invitation.

“Nope.  It’s all about the roux.”

“Are your teammates impressed with your roux?”

“I don’t share my roux with just anybody.  And if they ever ask, I would deny everything,” he said with a grin.