Trade Deadline - Avon Gale Page 0,65
where Gretchen and Nathaniel sat. “You have some well-behaved kids there.”
“I do,” Daniel said, turning in that direction. Nate had his head down, attention laser focused on his Nintendo Switch, but Gretchen had scooted forward to watch the game with an avid expression on her sweet little face. She sent Daniel a gap-toothed smile when she caught him looking. “I really do.”
* * *
When they got to Tabby’s house afterward, she had a dinner of chicken piccata and pasta waiting for them.
Nate went at his food like it was a race to the finish line, but Gretchen poked and prodded at her noodles until Daniel finally asked her what was up.
“Do you think they’d let me join that team, Daddy?”
Daniel blinked at her. “The Rumbles? I don’t know, baby. They’re halfway into the season right now.”
Gretchen’s lower lip trembled. “But I wanna play. It looks fun.”
Daniel exchanged a look with Tabby across the table. After a moment of consideration, she shrugged. “Well, I can ask them. I’ll find out if you can still try out. I’m sure they’ve probably lost some players.”
“Really?” Gretchen squealed.
“Don’t get too excited, now,” Daniel warned. “I can’t make any promises. But you already know how to skate, so at least that’s a point in your favor.”
“But you’ll call them tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll call them.” Daniel smiled and nodded toward her mostly full plate. “If you finish your food.”
With a look of determination, Gretchen attacked her meal, clearing it down to the last noodle.
Tabby laughingly dismissed her and Nate from the table when they were done. She arched a brow at Daniel. “Want some more wine?”
“Sure.”
Tabby refilled both their glasses of pinot grigio. “I take it the practice went well?”
“Very well,” Daniel told her. “I liked the kids and the head coach. Everybody worked hard, but they were happy to be there, too. It was nice to see.”
“You’ll go back, then?”
“Yeah, once we figure out schedules and stuff. I might not always be able to work with the Rumbles, but I’d like to see what the older kids can do, too.”
“That’s great.”
“Are you okay with Gretchen joining the team, if they allow her to try out?” Daniel asked.
Tabby nodded thoughtfully. “Sure, why not? She’s never shown interest before, so this might just be a passing whim because you’re volunteering and she saw the kids playing tonight, but if she’s really into the idea, I wouldn’t mind taking her to practice and stuff.”
“Okay, good. I wouldn’t mind doing it either, when I’m able. I’ll call them in the morning.”
“And the Thunder?” Tabby’s tone was light, but Daniel cringed anyway.
The Thunder retained the dubious distinction of being dead last in the NHL standings.
“I deleted Twitter off my phone.” Daniel sighed. The site had become a hellscape he avoided at all costs. Between the pissed-off fans, the memes, and the sports writers’ sarcastic commentary, signing in was like stepping into a burning house. For his peace of mind and to resist the temptation of looking, Daniel had gone as far as getting rid of the app. “I like to think I’m a fairly confident person, but even for me, there are only so many ‘you suck!’ messages I can take.” He sipped his wine, grateful the kids were in the living room watching some cartoon and not present for the depressing turn to their conversation. “It doesn’t help that it’s true. We do suck.”
Daniel and Cedric had come to a tentative understanding after that lunch in Ottawa, and the atmosphere in the dressing room had finally warmed to a temperature less frosty than a meat locker, but the team still wasn’t meshing. Despite Daniel’s attempts at pep talks, despite his suggestions and Demetrius’s enthusiasm, nothing could be done about the root of the problem—their lack of chemistry.
Tabby gave him a sympathetic frown but said nothing. There was nothing she could say. They both knew the truth of the situation.
Daniel had gotten to the point where going to the arena felt more like a chore than a pleasure. That had never happened while he was playing for the Venom. He’d always, always been happy to spend time with his team, whether it was for games or practices or just sitting around shooting the breeze during lunch. Being with the Venom hadn’t felt like work, even when he was run-down from exhaustion in the middle of a bag skate.
“Demetrius isn’t happy either,” he went on. “I think he’s hoping to make a move before the trade deadline, and I can’t blame him,