Chapter 54: Stand and Defend: Chapter 54

Valentine’s Day is next week, and I want to do something special for Jordan. Unfortunately, everything I come up with feels so . . . cliche. She’s not into gifting “things.” It’s not like I can whisk her off to a romantic getaway. With playoffs in a couple months, I’m about to be more involved than ever to ensure we make it. Which means I’ll have less time with her, so whatever I do has to be good. Lucky for me, I know someone who’s an expert at this stuff.

In the locker room, the guys are busy talking about their plans for Superbowl Sunday.

“How come my damn tape is always missing?” I grouse.

“Here.” Barrett tosses me one of his rolls.

I sit next to him and begin wrapping my stick. Now’s as good a time as any.

“Hey . . . how’s the family?”

“Great. Raleigh’s morning sickness is finally easing up. Arthur’s loving kindergarten.”

“Good, good . . . Say, wondering if you can help me with something.”

He stops lacing his skates and cocks an eyebrow at me. “Depends on what it is . . .”

“I, uh, I need help coming up with a gift for Jordan . . . for Valentine’s Day.”

In my peripheral, he leans back and crosses his arms. I don’t have to look over to know he’s got a smug smile on his face.

“Look, you’re always doing romantic shit for Raleigh. I want to do something for Jordan. Don’t be a dick about this.”

Silence. I look over, sure enough, smug as hell.

The corner of my mouth tips up. “Okay, asshole. Forget it.”

“Oh, come on, you gotta let me enjoy this . . .”

I give him three full seconds to revel in the moment. “There. You done?”

He goes back to his skates. “Raleigh said Jordan’s never had a normal Christmas before.”

“Okay.” I’m aware, but not sure where he’s going with this.

“The girls were talking about it after Jordan got back from Monaco. Ral cried for a good half hour that night because Jordan never got to pick and cut down a Christmas tree.” He chuckles.

Why? “The fuck was she crying for?”

“She’s pregnant, man.” He shrugs. “She’s all up in her feelings. An ASPCA commercial came on the other day—shit, I thought I was going to have to take her to the hospital. You wouldn’t believe how many fucking dogs we’re sponsoring now.”

My lip curls and I shake my head. “Jesus . . . okay, but focus, I need help with a gift.”

“Give her a normal Christmas. Let her pick out a tree, make cookies, et cetera.”

“It’s February.”

“That’s why it’s romantic, dumbass.”

I suppose that could work. I scrape a puck over the fresh tape on my stick, thinking of all the things my family does for Christmas.

“Trust me,” he adds.

“Alright . . . but if it doesn’t go over well, I’m sending your wife a PETA brochure. Sure would be a shame to miss out on all that good Kalua pork next time you’re in Hawaii.”

He snatches the puck out of my hands and jabs a finger at me. “Don’t even joke about that shit.”

I chuckle and flip my stick to tape the handle. “Wait, where the hell am I supposed to cut down a Christmas tree? Are tree farms even open?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Who said you had to go to a tree farm?”

We stare at each other for a while until I know what he’s getting at.

Grinning, I ponder aloud. “Didn’t Sully say something about his new lake lot having nice trees?”