Chapter 374: Patty XLII—Eleven Little Flukes

“Yeah don’t worry about it, Patty, just eleven little flukes right we still love you!”

Patrick’s ears and neck burned and he didn’t even look up at which fan said that as he trudged down the tunnel at the end of the period. Whoever said it didn’t sound mocking or sarcastic, in fact, to him, it sounded as if they were playful and optimistic, nothing serious at all, but still; he didn’t want to look at them. He really didn’t want to look at anyone! The level of shock that overwhelmed him also numbed him and made him seriously, seriously want a hot shower and a sedative.

Eleven little flukes, sure, a great way to explain perhaps the worst performance he’d seen in goal since the juniors. He never even played this bad as a child! He didn’t look at Jonathan as he stamped straight into the showers and he didn’t even wait to hear word from anyone else on the matter. How must the boy look at him now? Of course he would be embarrassed that his father had done so badly, and Patrick couldn’t believe himself!

It’s just a charity game, he thought, just a charity game nothing important, nothing that would even be covered in the newspapers or even remembered for a very long time. But still how could he have allowed eleven goals to get by! He stretched and groaned, letting the hot shower calm him, and relax his muscles. His lower back twitched and ached, he should have had Katrina look at it this morning, and his hip felt sore and overused.

The women! Debbie had been the first, and then Michele, and then Josefina and then damn that whore, Michele tapped in another of her own. Six minutes of that period consisted of those damn women overrunning him and yes, he just could not get accustomed to seeing those frail little bodies and smelling that odd mix of sweat and perfume floating around his net. Yes he would blame the women and be done with it; he couldn’t be expected to play under such unnatural conditions!

He felt a lot better coming out of the shower; he dressed in the bathroom into a dark shirt and pants, and a suit coat. He ran a comb through his hair and put just a little bit of gel into it. He even felt a little smug seeing how exhausted the ladies looked in the locker room, as if they couldn’t wait for the day to be over and here he stood clean and ready to relax. Yes, he would enjoy this.

“Oh lucky you,” Drury’s girl, Rory said. “You get the day off.”

Patrick gave her the full force of a polite smile.

“Come on its fun!” Cecile exclaimed. “Don’t you think?”

Rory rolled her eyes and Cecile received a few pats on the back from Sakic and Drury. Her cheeks were flushed, sweat pasted strands of black hair to her cheeks and throat, and those eyes of hers seemed hungry and bright with passion. A rangy exotic cat or bird could never look as pretty as this creature. One of the bright spots for him during this game had been watching her sliding and scampering up and down the ice with such reckless enthusiasm that he had even felt affectionate towards her.

“Are you even tired?” Patrick asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. “Just a little?”

Cecile wiped at her nose with the back of her hand and shook her head. “No not really, I’m sure I’ll feel it later but not right now. It’s like, like going sledding for the first time or something, this is great!”

“That’s my girl!” Sakic said with a delighted grin. “She’s really got the hang of this! You’re going to be hitting in that second period though, are you gonna let me down?” Patrick had never known Sakic to be these enthused, even over a rookie; it tickled him to see the interest he showed in Cecile’s hockey education. He didn’t really know how close Sakic was to his real siblings, but he certainly seemed like a proud brother right now.

Cecile grimaced. “Of course not,” she replied. “Hey, at this point you can tell me to aim and spit and I’ll do it.”

Sakic laughed.

Someone knocked on the door and opened it, an intern peeked in. “Hey,” he said, “Mr. Roy can we speak with you for a moment?”

Patrick raised his eyebrows. “Sure.” He sunk his hands into his pants pockets as he left the locker room and into the hallway where the intern stood, a pale, ghostly looking young man whose neck hung as if his identification badges weighed him down unbearably. “What can I help you with?”

“Um, yeah,” the young man said with a pristine, nasal drawl, “yeah, I’m with the media public relations department, and we’re so glad that everyone is enjoying this game and the presentation of it, yeah a real hit it’s been so far.”

Patrick nodded. “Yes.” He really didn’t know what else to say. Did the young man just call him out for a nice conversation or a survey?

The young man raised his eyebrows. “Um, yeah, so we have your wife’s permission, to bring your daughter on the sides during the second period, she will have a microphone, you know, and maybe a little script, a little prompting but basically she will provide a little playful between whistles game commentary, I’m sure the audience will love it. And you daughter seems to really relish the idea.”

“I would imagine so,” Patrick replied, a little miffed that they didn’t ask him first about Jana and wondering what the man was leading to. “She enjoys the spotlight.”

“Um, yeah, and that’s great, a real natural, yeah.” He replied wringing his hands just a little. “So my question to you, Mr. Roy, seeing as you have finished your part of the game, and this is entirely up to you, yeah, would you like to have a microphone as well and join her? I mean just a little bit, it would be fun don’t you think?”

Patrick frowned. “Join her? You mean call the game?”

“Oh no no,” the young man said holding up his long, thin fingers. “Not call the game per se, but just comment on the game between whistles, banter a little with your daughter, charm the crowd, they’ll love it! Imagine, just imagine a well placed joke or teaser, dropping an innocent little inside story or anecdote, it would be fun!”

Patrick half grinned and listened to the crowd outside laughing at some sort of intermission entertainment. “That might be fun, yes?” He thought of how nice it would be to spend a little time with Jana like that. The boys and their hockey took up the majority of his time lately, and sometimes he felt guilty about that, as if he had abandoned his daughter. This would be something she could treasure for him and herself. “Yes, I like that, where is she?”

“YAY DADDY!” Jana squealed and she pounced on him from God knows where giggling and squeezing him with seemingly inhuman strength. “I knew you’d say yes I knew it! It’s gonna be great!”

Patrick picked her up briefly, hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head. “Of course I would say yes.”

“Well I said I knew you would!” Jana replied a little peevishly and he put her down. She put her hands on her skinny hips and grinned through her teeth. “Hehehe they asked Freddy first and he said no that he didn’t want to be a spectacle and I said I would do it and I would do it with you and Freddy said that you would never do it and I said you would and HA and see I’m right!”

Patrick grimaced and leaned over. “How much sugar have you had today my angel?”

Jana scratched the back of her head and then flipped a blond braid over her shoulder. “Does Pop Rocks count as sugar?”

That would explain the blue tinting on her lips, Patrick thought. “Yes that counts as sugar.”

Jana nodded solemnly. “Then I’ve had loads! Am I in trouble?”

Patrick shrugged. “No, but time will tell yes?”

Jana giggled and held up a half empty bag of the candy before she poured it in her mouth. The sizzling and crackling foaming travesty that bubbled over her lips and then down her chin as she wiped at it with a crushed, stained napkin sent a chill up Patrick’s spine. He wondered when exactly it was that children learned that some of the things they craved were just plain frightening.

“Hey Dad,” Jana said in French glancing briefly at the young man. “Sorry that Mommy scored on you, it’s not your fault; you’re still the best goalie in the world ever!”

Patrick hugged his daughter again and kissed her cheek. “You know exactly what I need to hear princess.”

Jana giggled. “Well it isn’t really your fault it’s the Smittens’ fault.”

Patrick frowned. He had forgotten all about those Smittens for today. “You think?”

“Yup,” Jana replied, “They’re just mad you put them on vacation today but next game they’ll be happy. So don’t be sad, Daddy.”

“I’m not sad,” Patrick replied and he pinched Jana’s nose. “Why would I be sad over eleven little flukes, yes?”

Jana tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes in a way he was used to seeing with Michele. “What’s a fluke?”

“Eh… it’s, it’s a little mistake, just a tiny one.”

“Oooo,” Jana said. “How many little mistakes does it take to make a real big one?”

Patrick grimaced and stood up, “So where are those microphones my friend?” He asked the young man.