The Tales of a Professional Hockey Player

Chapter 39: Shit

~Ben~

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" I am in so much trouble. Saturday, in the NHL, means game night. It also means morning practice with spectators in the bleachers. I missed both. I know being with Ophelia was more important and that, if I had mentioned it to the coach, he would have given me the day off. But I didn't. I deserted. Maybe the word is a little strong, but it's still how my coach is going to see it. You can't miss a game without informing someone beforehand.

After putting Ophelia in her crib, I grabbed my phone that I had left in the bathroom after my shower. I had fourteen missed calls and three text messages. One call was from my coach, three calls and a text from Nathan, and ten calls and two texts from Connor. At first, they seemed angry, but in Connor's last voicemail, he was worried. He knows I wouldn't miss a game on purpose. It's him I call first. He picks up on the first ring.

"Ben! Oh my God, I was so worried. Are you ok? Where are you?" I explain the situation to him and hear him sigh once I'm done.

"Ok... I am at the arena right now. I'll try and get a hold of your coach to explain the situation and get you a meeting tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Connor." We hang up after that. I had locked myself in the bathroom to call him in case there was any yelling. I get out and see Eleanor speaking on the phone as well.

"Yeah, she's fine now. Thank you, Tracy. You can tell Nathan that Ben is fine." There's a pause before she adds: "I hope he won't be in too much trouble too."

It then pops into my head that I never explained the terms of my contract to Eleanor. She doesn't know in how much trouble I could be. She probably thinks that I'll get a suspension for a few games because she doesn't know they can fire me at any time. I decided to keep it to myself because I didn't want her to worry more than she already did and because we had more important things to figure out back then.

"Tracy?" I ask.

"Yeah, I had two missed calls from her." She sounds exhausted. I wish we could simply go to bed and forget about the last two days, but the mess in the living room discourages me. I know Eleanor too well to propose we leave it and clean it tomorrow, so I attack the pile of medical trash left by the paramedics.

"And Hannah wants to take me out for brunch tomorrow. Think you could watch Oph?" Eleanor and Hannah's relationship never really recovered from the coffee date they had a few weeks back. The last time they saw each other was for dinner the day Eleanor came to help me with painting last week. She stayed vague over what happened at that dinner, but I could clearly see in Eleanor's expression when she came back afterwards that it didn't heal every bruise she had.

"I don't know, I'll probably have a meeting with Bailey tomorrow morning." She nods, but I suddenly get an idea. "I could take her to the meeting, though. Maybe it will make him less harsh on me." It's probably the tiredness, but Eleanor erupts in a fit of laughter and I join her.

"You are not going to use Ophelia as a distraction," she jokes. "I'll take her, even if brunch isn't the best place where you can take someone who is allergic to eggs."

"Hey," I start. She hums in response. "Tomorrow is the fourth, right?" She raises her eyes from the pile of broken dishes on the floor.

"Tomorrow is my birthday and I had completely forgotten." To be honest, I had forgotten too.

"I wanted to take you out for dinner, but I completely forgot to make a reservation." I am disappointed. I wanted to take her to one of the finest restaurants in Manhattan, but now, it's clear that we won't get a table.

"It's fine, Ben. With what happened in the last few days, I would be completely ok with take-out." She throws away the broken plate in the trash and says something I never thought Eleanor Martin would ever say. "Let's finish this tomorrow, ok? I am exhausted."

We head upstairs and get ready for bed. I decide to skip the shower even if Eleanor's plea to join her was very convincing. Right before closing my eyes, a second after I threw myself on the bed, I hear my phone buzz. It's a text from Connor saying I have an eight am meeting with Mr. Bailey and Mr. Riley, the general manager. Shit.  Now, I know I won't be able to sleep at all.