The Hunk of Long Bay

He paid some visits, starting with James. The door was opened before he could knock, or ring the bell. The man who was leaving was unfamiliar to Chris. He looked like a thug. No doubt, James was currently involved in something ‘lucrative’.



Wasn’t he always? ‘Trouble’ was Lennox’s middle name. He was constantly looking for it. Nothing much had changed in ten years. But Chris was not his brother’s keeper anymore.



‘What do you want?’ James inquired, rather aggressively. He was nervous, Chris gathered.



‘I talked to my father,’ he said. ‘He agreed on being our coach. He wants us to gather at the alley at nine tomorrow morning.’



‘You talked to Gordon? Jesus. You want this Golden Broom badly, don’t you?’



‘Yes, I do,’ Chris said. ‘Can I count on you?’



After a pause, James shrugged and said that yeah, he would be there.



The Strombecks seemed to be out when Chris called, but he knew that appearances were deceiving. Most likely they were home. In the bedroom. Having sex.



He knew about their fertility problems. He knew its cause (Eddie’s single digit sperm count).

He even had a pretty good insight in Lily’s cycle, as she made no secret of the rise and fall of her body temperature. Chris checked his watch. Yes, now was about the time she would ovulate.



He contemplated returning later, but reconsidered. He wanted Neil to be the last one he would visit. And besides, he knew that Eddie was used to having intercourse on his wife’s command and resuming his usual business immediately after he was done.



After five minutes waiting, he rang again. Eddie answered the door, still not completely dressed.



‘I’m sorry to disturb you,’ Chris started.



‘That’s okay. We were just, um, done,’ Eddie said. ‘What’s up?’



Chris explained.



‘Great,’ Eddie said. ‘See you tomorrow at nine.’



Chris felt nervous when he entered the Bucyk’s front yard. Neil’s oldest son answered the door.



‘Hi,’ Chris said, clearing his throat. ‘Can I talk to your father?’



‘Dunno,’ the boy replied. ‘I’ll ask mom.’



Linda appeared in the hallway. ‘What do you want?’



‘Hello, Linda,’ Chris said as friendly as he could muster. ‘I’d like to talk to Neil.’



‘Is it about curling?’



‘Yes, it is. I-’



‘He’s busy.’



‘It won’t take long.’



Negotiating with Linda Bucyk was tough. Especially for Chris. Linda was not a nice woman, but she had a particularly nasty grudge against him. The fact that it had been a crush before explained a lot.



Twenty years ago, Linda Rainer had been the Cutter Rink’s most fanatic groupie. Because of Chris. She hadn’t been interested in curling at all. She had only had eyes for him. Big blue predatory eyes. She had set her mind on him, very determinately. He knew it and he had escaped her by choosing Julie. Not a day later, Linda had moved on to Neil, who didn’t resist.



Chris didn’t know why she had done it. To hurt him, most likely. And it had made him feel uneasy. Linda was a shrew and Neil was such a gentle soul. He had been worried of his friend’s happiness. For all he knew, that was all there was to it. Now, he wondered if Linda could have suspected otherwise, back then. Could she have suspected what he himself would only learn ten years later?



‘You want to talk to Neil? Fine. Come along.’



Apparently, she wanted to chaperone the conversation.



Neil was at the mortuary.



‘There’s someone who wants to talk to you,’ Linda announced coolly.



She startled her husband, but it wasn’t entirely fair to blame her for it, because Neil was a very easily to startle man. When he was performing a task – any task – he lost himself in it completely, shutting out the rest of the world. When someone addressed him, he was forced to come back to earth, and it wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, as Chris had witnessed numerous times.



Now, he looked bewildered. And shocked. When Chris managed a soft but steady ‘Hello, Neil,’ he struggled to compose himself. It was endearing. Chris held his breath, praying that Linda wouldn’t notice it.



A lock of Neil’s hair had fallen across his forehead and his jaw had dropped, elongating his long face even more.



‘Horse face,’ Chris thought. It was the nickname James had tried to get applied to Neil when they were kids. ‘Don’t call him that,’ Chris had said, in a very quiet tone with not a hint of anger, just so James would know there was no arguing about it. ‘His name is Neil.’



‘Oh. Um. Chris,’ Neil said. ‘What … what can I do for you?’



‘I would like you to come to the alley tomorrow morning at nine. My father has agreed to coach us,’ Chris explained. His tone was very gentle. It was the tone one would use to calm a nervous horse and to lure it into coming closer, he realized.



Neil stared at him. ‘Gordon? That’s … wonderful.’ He didn’t sound very enthusiastic.



Chris suspected that, apart from Neil’s lethargic nature, this had something to do with Linda being present.



‘Isn’t it,’ he said, with equal lack of emotion. ‘Will I see you tomorrow, then?’



Neil’s eyes shifted to his wife before responding, and Chris felt a flare of exasperation at seeing him behave so meekly. Sure, Linda was a shrew, but it shouldn’t be impossible, technically, to tell her to sod off.



She didn’t say anything. Chris was standing behind her and couldn’t see her face, but judging from Neil’s facial expression, she granted her husband permission to join the rink tomorrow. It amazed him but it didn’t alarm him at the time.



‘I’ll be there,’ Neil said.



They stared at each other over Linda’s head. A deer in headlights, Neil seemed. Chris wanted to reassure him. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I’ll protect you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll fight for you. I will dedicate my life to you.



He didn’t know if any of these promises would be remotely welcome to Neil.

Neil was the first to avert his violet-blue eyes.



‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Chris said.



When he left, Linda closed the door firmly behind him.