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“Mae, wanna tell me again why we signed up for this hockey team?”
Mae Mordabito was adjusting her fire-engine red lipstick, her helmet sitting on her knee. “Because you were born to block and I was born to look cute as a point guard.”
Doris Murpy scoffed. “Sure, you get to be cute. My side gets to look like a side of beef after Rocky Balboa gets to it.”
“Go sit in the ice bath,” she instructed Doris. “Bruises’ll fade, but they’ll also look great on the internet tomorrow.”
“I’m going, I’m going!” Then the locker room door flew open, and they were distracted by the sight of this forward, Dottie Hinson, stumbling into the room on the arm of their coach with a frozen Dixie cup of ice pressed to her eye. “Forget me, someone get Dottie to the bench.”
“I’m fine,” Dottie insisted. “It was from when Kowakski side-checked me into the wall.”
“Let me see,” Jimmy Dugan demanded. An older salt, he’d been their manager and coach since the team had formed and he was so obviously sweet on Dottie Doris wanted to puke. He pulled the ice back from Dottie’s eye and she and Mae let out sounds of dismay. “Yeah, you’re not playing Pike’s Peak tomorrow.”
“No!” Dottie insisted. “It’s just a dumb black eye.”
“And it’ll probably lead to a concussion,” said Jimmy. “We have to let the doc check you over.”
“Jimmy, I’m not going to die from a black eye!” she hollered.
“I don’t care! I’m getting the trainer!” Kit, Dottie’s little sister, burst into the room a moment later, and she immediately sat down next to Dottie.
“Are you okay, Dot? You took a pretty hard hit,” said Kit. She was still wearing her skates, and Doris had no idea how she’d waddled that far from the rink.
“Would everybody quit babying me? I caught that puck, the goal was tended to perfectly well, and we won,” Dottie growled.
“If you get a concussion it won’t matter,” Betty Horn said, sobbing her mascara off from her locker. The rest of the team filtered into the room and clapped Dottie on the shoulder and offered their commiseration.
“Oh boy,” Doris muttered, and offered Betty a Kleenex.
“Betty, I’ll have a little headache! It’s not a death sentence!” Jimmy entered the room a moment later, with the team’s tiny, grey-haired doctor. He sat down and started administering tests to Dottie. Jimmy excused himself, which was enough of an excuse for everyone to pile into the showers.
“We’re gonna need to keep Dottie up all night if she’s got a concussion,” said Mae.
“Isn’t that Bob’s job?” asked Doris, which earned a chorus of cheers.
“Bob’s out of town,” said Evelyn. “It’s just us girls and Jimmy tonight – at least after I call my husband.”
A few minutes later, Dottie came into the shower and stepped under the spray.
“What’s the verdict?” Doris asked.
“They want me to go to the doctor tomorrow. I probably have a very slight concussion, but nothing major.”
“I guess that’s pretty good?”
“Yeah, could be worse,” said Dottie.
“So do you want some company tonight?”
Dottie shrugged. “I don’t want to put anyone out. I’ll be fine on my own, doing my own thing.”
“Aww, Dottie…”
“I’ll just spend the night with the tv and then get in to the doctor’s before I get to work. No big,” she said.
There was a sigh from Doris. “Fine, if it suits you.”
The women dried off, pausing to gossip and laugh. They dried off, dressed, packed their gear and headed home. It was just like every other League night, except when Doris sat down behind the driver’s side seat of her car and her phone began to buzz.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Marla you owe me a favor.”
“We’re trying to be nice,” Marla pointed out. “Dottie shouldn’t be alone, at least not tonight. If Bob can’t be there, we should.”
The knocked on Dottie’s door and the redhead opened it a moment later. She tilted her head and shook out her red curls, then clutched her shiner. “Hey Jimmy, we’ve got even more guests.”
Doris might’ve known that Kit and Jimmy would already be there, but to her surprise, Mae, Eleanor and a bunch of other girl were already there. She rolled her eyes at Mae, who kept petting Dottie and Bob’s cat while swinging her red-polished toes idly.
“We’re going to watch Lord of the Rings,” Jimmy said. “The long version. Extra nerdy,” he said.
“I thought you wanted to keep Dottie awake,” she said, but Dottie elbowed her.
“It’s one of my favorite movies, okay?” She grumbled. “And I really was planning to be alone but Jimmy brought me some Pepto and then the rest of the girls came. I can’t have popcorn, but the rest of you can.”
“Ever had cinnamon sugar corn?” asked Doris.
“No,” said Eleanor.
“You haven’t lived,” said Doris, who took over the kitchen. The girls stuffed themselves as the movies unspooled, but only a handful of them made it to the morning light. It was fun – neighborly in a way that Doris hadn’t experienced since she’d left the Bronx for Seattle. Doris vaguely watched Dottie bumble around the room. She lightly placed a blanket over Jimmy and lingered over him. Sometimes Doris wondered what was happening between the two of them. They were incomprehensible people, always fighting, but always there for each other. Like her and Mae. When the sun flooded the small apartment, Dottie and Jimmy slid out the back door, and Doris let herself sleep in, waking when the rest of the girls departed the apartment. It was Sunday. They wouldn’t need her to bounce until Monday night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She found out a few days later that Dottie was doing all right – the doc left her off with a scolding and a big bottle of Advil. The shiner looked as good as Doris’ bruised ribs on the internet the next day, and the league president just loved the publicity they drew in.
She and Mae started bowling together on the side, and once or twice she saw Jimmy and Dottie together there. She wasn’t surprised when Bob moved to Chicago, Jimmy and Dottie moved in together, and the Peaches won the league championship all within a year.