How The Cookie Crumbles (32 page)

I wondered if whatever I said would get right back to Jake. “Well, we knew each other all summer, but it wasn’t really romantic before.”

“Really? You guys are so cute together! Ryan and I met back in Madison. I’ve only lived there for a year, and when he came home for the summer, we met at a party. He’s so exciting, not like anyone I’ve ever known. Of course, I haven’t dated much, so I don’t have much to compare.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I told her. “You’re so pretty, the guys must have been swarming.”

“I grew up on a big farm in western Wisconsin. I knew all the same guys since kindergarten, and they were like brothers to me. Also I have three older brothers who shooed away anybody they didn’t think was good enough.” She made a face, “Which turned out to be everybody!”

The waiter brought our salads, and Ella beamed at him and asked for a refill of her iced tea. He not only brought it, but comped it, which made me think she had a good idea of exactly how pretty she was, but perhaps it was only her country charm.

When we got to the game, Ryan had arranged for us to sit with all the other wives and girlfriends. The contrast from last night’s lonesome game was striking; a perky blonde came right over and began chatting.

“I saw y’all here, and I knew exactly who you were!” she declared. She was dauntingly pretty with big blue eyes, golden skin, and a perfect body. But she was also genuinely friendly.

“You’re Ryan and Jake’s girlfriends, right? I’m Maggie,” she smiled, and her teeth were whiter than white. “My boyfriend is Marcel. He scored the game-winning goal last night! And last year, he was the leading scorer on the team.” She giggled, “He’d kill me if he heard me say that, but I’m just so proud of him. He’s all humble, but not me. If I could do anything as well as he plays hockey, I would be on the roof bragging on myself to everybody!”

I couldn’t help smiling back at her; Maggie was as friendly as a little puppy. She had a slight southern accent, and a ton of southern charm. I told her, “I can still hardly tell anyone on the team apart yet, but Marcel’s goal was really nice.” I remembered that he had shot it in from an impossible angle, when he was practically behind the net.

“Yeah, I know! I screamed so loudly, Angie said I broke her eardrum.” She motioned to yet another pretty blonde down the aisle. “So, what are your names?”

“I’m Ella,” she said, smiling widely.

“And I’m Frankie,” I said, smiling too. The three of us could have done a toothpaste commercial on the spot.

“Nice. Is it your real name?”

“Of course,” I replied, a little shocked.

“Oh, it’s just that I hate my name. I wish it were something sexier. Maggie sounds like a horse or something. I’d like to be called Electra, I saw that in a movie once.”

I guess she wasn’t up on her Jungian theory, or she had a daddy complex. Maggie blinked at me, “So, where are y’all from?”

“I’m from Vancouver.”

“Really? That’s in Canada, right?”

“Yes, just keep going north up the coast, and you’re there,” I explained.

“Oh, I’m terrible at geography. Marcel laughs at me all the time. So, you met Jake back home in the summer?”

“No, actually I was in Kingston for the summer, and we met there.” She was terrible at geography if she thought Vancouver and Kingston were close.

“Oh, that’s sweet. I met Marcel when he used to play in Raleigh. My daddy and momma went all crazy when he got traded and I wanted to move to L.A. with him. They acted like it was Sin City here.” She paused, “Well, it is, kinda. I know they wanted us to get married first, but Marcel isn’t a guy to jump into anything. And I knew if I left someone as good-looking as him alone for long… well, he wouldn’t be alone for long!”

I was slightly shocked that she would tell us so much personal stuff within five seconds of meeting, but it fit with her personality. Ella was equally open, mentioning that even though she and Ryan were planning on living together, it was still proper because he had very serious intentions. It made me realize how different my relationship with Jake was; our future went only as far as dinner plans for the next night.

By the time the game started, I was surrounded by beautiful blondes, all chattering away. As the newcomers, Ella and I got peppered with questions, most of which I had to dodge. I didn’t really know what to say, since we weren’t officially dating or anything, but it was clearly more than a hook-up.

“It’s so cool you’re here,” Cherie declared. I think she was dating a guy named Dean Jones, but I wasn’t quite sure who was who yet. “I mean, Jake has never even brought a girl to a game before. And now he’s flown you in from Canada, and everything!”

“Actually, I flew myself in,” I explained, but that seemed to impress them less. I guess it meant more if Jake spent his money.

“So, did you guys start dating over the summer?” Jerri asked. The girlfriends were all uniformly gorgeous; Jerri had light brown hair with blonde highlights while Cherie was her mirror image, blonde with dark lowlights. Both of them were slim with great bodies. I sighed and sucked my tummy in. For tonight’s game, I was wearing regular clothes like all the girlfriends: jeans, a slinky sweater, and a jacket – no jersey dress. I hadn’t gotten the memo on dying my hair blonde though.

“Well, we met in Kingston this summer. We kind of hung out a lot.” I didn’t know what else to say without misleading everyone, so I decided to play it safe and exclaimed, “Jake’s so much fun!”

“Yes, he is funny. Alex is always telling me about the crazy stuff he does.”

Cherie added, “At first, he was like everyone’s little brother, you know, because he was so young when he joined the Kings.”

If she was telling me he was on the immature side, that was something I already knew.

“Well, it’s great you ladies are here. Ryan and Jake have been insane partiers, and settling down will be better for their games!” Maggie declared firmly.

“Insane partiers? What did they do?” I wondered. I could remember his friends joking about Jake’s sordid past in the summer, but at the time I hadn’t really paid attention.

“Uhhh,” Jerri glanced guiltily at me. Clearly, she was torn between dishing the dirt and dissing my guy. Unfortunately, she chose discretion. “You know, boys-will-be-boys stuff. Jake certainly likes the ladies.”

Tonight’s game was completely different. Detroit played a very disciplined game and much time was spent in the King’s end. When the score was 3-2 for the Wings in the third, I could see that Jake was working really hard to even things up. In fact, he seemed to be on every other shift. He was beyond intense.

Late in the game, he was in a race for the puck in the Kings’ end, with one of the Red Wings. They were really close together, and it was tough to see exactly what happened but a whistle blew. Jake was being sent to the penalty box, and he was not too happy about it. I couldn’t read lips, but he clearly wasn’t asking the ref about the weather. He kept going after the ref, even while Luke was trying to pull him back. Next thing we knew, he got an extra penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct.

“Oh no,” Maggie moaned. “Detroit has a really good power play.”

We all watched the replay of the penalty. From the ref’s angle, it must have looked like Jake hooked the Detroit player, but on the camera angle they showed, he had craftily tucked Jake’s stick under his arm. The crowd roared angrily too, and chants of “Ref, you suck!” could be heard.

“That’s not fair!” I declared, “Jake didn’t do anything wrong.” Of course, the fact he was right didn’t erase the extra penalty.

Maggie nodded, “Totes unfair. But let’s hope they can kill it off.

But they didn’t. The Red Wings won, 4-2.

In a way, it was too bad that we went out with the team after a loss and not on Friday, when they won. About six or seven of the younger guys went out, but the mood was more subdued than what I would have expected from a bunch of hockey players. Even Jake was low key all evening. And then, there was a grade school element to the night: while I sat beside Jake at dinner, at this club afterwards most of the guys hung out together around the bar, while the girlfriends chatted at the table. Except Ella, of course, Ryan was glued to her side all night.

Jake wanted to leave early, and I was happy to do that. Avoiding questions on the state of our relationship all night had been a big pain in the butt. As we drove home, Jake was silent and slightly sullen. In fact, in all the time I’d known him, this was the worst mood I’d ever seen him in.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked him, once we got into the house.

“Talk about what?”

“I don’t know, maybe why you’ve hardly said a word all night. Are you feeling bad about the game?”

“No,” he said, but he looked pretty angry.

I kept trying, “Okay, well whatever. It helps to talk about stuff, you know.”

“Thank you, Miss College Student,” he replied sarcastically.

I gave up. If he wanted to act like a jerk, fine. I wished his roommates were around to ease the tension. I made myself a cup of tea and started scrolling through my phone to see what was happening. There was a text from Bianca complaining about an incident with Rex and a hamburger she had left on the coffee table. I was busy composing an apology, when I felt two hands on my shoulders.

“Hey, Frankie,” Jake said, his voice conciliatory.

“Hey,” I replied coolly. After all, I was only here for a weekend, so I figured he could have made more of an effort. I got that he was upset, but I didn’t think he needed to be mad at me too.

He started massaging my shoulders. “Y’know, there is a way you could maybe make me feel better.”

“Oh really? Because according to you, there’s nothing actually wrong.” I guess once he decided he needed to get laid, he magically regained his powers of speech.

Jake let out an exasperated breath. “C’mon Frankie, don’t be like that. I need time to unwind after a shitty game.” He kneaded his fingers deeper in my always-tense shoulders, but I didn’t let on how good it felt.

“Okay, but you just need to say that. Like, ‘I’m upset right now, give me half an hour,’ so I know what to expect.”

Jake kissed the top of my head, “Sorry, Frankie.”

I shrugged, “It’s okay. I was only trying to help.”

He moved his hands down the front of my shirt. Real subtle.

Jake

After we fucked, I was ready to turn over and go to sleep. But I liked hearing Frankie tell me how great the sex was. When she didn’t say anything, I prompted her, “Okay, you can start anytime, y’know, telling me how amazing I am.”

She made a funny snorting noise, and then turned to face me. “Well, sure. You are an incredible lover. I mean, that was a little more intense than normal, but I can’t deny I enjoyed it.…”

I grinned, rolled over on my back, and closed my eyes.

“Of course, it’s nice that you’re still good at something.”

I opened my eyes. “What?”

“Well, you didn’t exactly have the best game tonight,” she said calmly.

“That’s not very nice. I mean, so I had a bad game, you shouldn’t be piling on. You should be, y’know, supporting me.”

“So, I should lie to you? You know what kind of game you had.”

“Well no, but you should be nicer. That’s what chicks should do.” Especially ones I had just fucked.

“You know you’re a great hockey player, right?” Frankie propped herself on one elbow and looked at me.

It felt funny to admit it so openly, but yeah, I was. I nodded.

“It must be fun to play hockey so well.”

I didn’t answer for a minute. “Sure. It’s great.”

“Hmm, sounds like there’s more you want to say. Go ahead.” I hesitated, and she reached up and kissed me on the cheek. “Really, Jake. We know each other well enough now. If there’s stuff you want to talk about, I’d like to hear it.”

“Ah Frankie, I don’t want to unload all this crap on you.”

She snuggled into me and waited for me to say more.

“Well, when I have a shitty game, I don’t know, there’s a ton of pressure. I know I can be the guy, y’know, the one who can make a difference. Sometimes I play great, but we lose anyway – that never bothers me. But if I’m the one who makes the bad difference, that bugs me a lot. I feel like I let down the guys.” I paused, trying to get my thoughts together. “I don’t pay mind to all the crap that gets said or written, but I put pressure on myself, y’know? For the team, and for me too. I want to be the best.”

Frankie nodded, her hair soft on my chest. “It must be horrible. I can’t imagine a job where hundreds of people hang over your shoulder and tell you what you’re doing wrong! Talk about pressure.”

“It’s not that bad. As long as we’re winning, everything’s cool. But a losing streak and there’s lots of crap.”

“You shouldn’t pay attention to it. You have to listen to your coaches, but not to anyone else.”

“Yeah, I don’t usually, but when stuff is going wrong, I keep looking for how to fix it. Y’know something weird… the more I worry about stuff, the worse I play. The more relaxed I feel, the better I see the ice.”

She seemed to be thinking about this. “That’s true for so many things. Like exams, if you freeze up, you can’t remember anything you know. It’s brilliant, really. You should market it; the Jake Cookson philosophy of life: relax, and do better.”