One Timers

“I’m just worried about him, that’s all.” I hear Flower saying as I make my way into his house. “He hasn’t been the same since Nealer got traded, and the season starts next week.”

I turn the corner and seven heads turn towards me, their eyes guilty and surprised. I guess they didn’t hear me come in.

“Geno.” Vero says softly.
“Hello.” I say, realizing now that they were talking about me.
“How are you, big guy?” Tanger asks carefully from his spot next to Catherine.
“Good.” I respond, moving in to swipe a carrot from the plate Vero has left on the kitchen counter.
“Are you ready for the season?” Carol-Lynn Dupis asks.
“Yes.” I respond.

All seven of them watch me closely as I make my way around the island and take the stool next to Sid for myself. It becomes silent and awkward and they’re all just kinda staring at me, like I might break or something.

“I sad Lazy not here anymore. Need new friend to pick on at practice. But I be okay. Better than Pauly be.” I say, trying to get them to stop looking at me like some wounded bear.

“Paul has a girlfriend to distract him now.” Pascal says.
“What, you think I need girlfriend too?” I ask, rolling my eyes. “Is pointless to date girl just to not think about lose Lazy.”
“It could help to have a distraction.” My captain suggests with a half shrug.
“And what Sid know about distraction?” I ask, laughing and pointing my carrot at him. “Sid whole life is hockey. Eat, sleep, breathe hockey.”
“Actually....” He starts, blushing and causing seven pairs of eyes to look at him, a shared surprise between them. “I wasn’t going to say anything for a while. But I started seeing someone back home. This summer.”
“Who?” Flower instantly demands.
“It’s not important. Just... Well, I don’t know. I was going to tell you about- If it lasts, you guys will eventually get to meet- We’re just not really sharing it with the world at this point? And it’s long distance for the time being. So, yeah. The point is- we’re talking about Geno here, okay?” He fumbles.

I can tell by the bright blush on his face and his weight shifting from side to side that my captain is super uncomfortable with the attention he’s receiving, and it makes me feel bad for him. I’m actually kinda proud that he’s found someone that’s worth dating. I know it’s not easy for him, being the face of the league and everything. It inspires me to do something about my non-existent love life as well.

“Okay. I’m agree to go on date if want.” I gesture to the three women.
“Really?” Vero asks, her eyes lighting up. “You’d let us set you up with someone?”
“Yes. I’m give you one chance each. Three dates, and then no more.”

Vero squeals and claps happily, her eyes lighting up like lights on Christmas. Catherine smiles and looks at Kris, mouthing a name at him. He raises his eyebrows but shrugs, possibly approving of her immediate choice. Carol-Lynn is smiling as well, but she seems to be deep in thought.

Less than a week later, I’m getting ready for my first blind date. It’s Catherine’s choice, and I’m meeting the woman at an Italian restaurant not too far from my house. Catherine told me that her name is Tessa, and that she’s a hair stylist at the local salon that she and many of my teammates’ wives and girlfriends go to. I want to make a good first impression, so I pull on one of my favorite button-down shirts, a pale blue one that Vero says goes well with my skin tone. I pair it with black pants and black shoes. I send a picture to my group chat with Vero, Catherine and Carol-Lynn and they all confirm what I already knew- that I look very nice.

Vero’s assertion that I look “smokin’ hot” makes me blush, but that’s just her way of assuring me that I look good.

Thanks to an accident on the road, I reach the restaurant about five minutes later than our reservations and find a very pretty blonde waiting for me at the table the hostess sees me to.

“Hello. Sorry I’m late. There was accident and lots of traffic.” I say, smiling at the pretty woman. “I’m Evgeni.”
“Tessa.” She responds shortly, barely bothering to look up from her menu.
“Is nice to meet you.” I try again, taking my seat. “Catherine says you are stylist at salon.”
“Yes.” She responds simply.
“Okay.” I answer, not quite sure why she isn’t really talking to me.

Instead of fighting to make conversation when she is clearly more interested in her menu, I turn my attention to the options in front of me. Since this is an authentic Italian restaurant, the choices are mostly in Italian- of course a language that I don’t understand at all. I wasn’t aware of this, since I’ve never actually been here before. I see a couple of words that I recognize here and there, but nothing really jumps out at me. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed. Usually when I’m at a fancy Italian restaurant, we’re with the rest of the team. I can count on one of the ladies to help me, or just copy whatever Sid orders. But now, I have no one to help me but Tessa. And I’m not sure how she would respond to my request for assistance.

Like she knows I’m thinking about her, Tessa puts the menu down and looks over the table at me.

“Have you decided what you want?” She asks.
“I’m not sure. What you suggest?” I ask, hoping she won’t notice that I have no clue what’s on the menu.
“That depends on what you’re in the mood for.” She says with a slight attitude. I knew this was a bad idea, asking her for help. I should have just chosen something at random.
“Anything is good.” I say, hoping the blush I’m feeling grow from embarrassment is not showing itself on my face.
“Would you like me to order for you?” She asks, clearly resisting the urge to roll her eyes at me.
“Sure.” I respond.

The waiter seems to appear out of thin air right next to our table and Tessa speaks quickly to him, a flash of words in a beautiful language that I wish I could understand. When she’s done, he takes both of our menus and gives a short nod before disappearing almost as quickly as he showed up.

I clear my throat and take a sip of the water in front of me, preparing myself to get to know the woman sitting across the table.

“Look, Evgeni...” Tessa starts before I have the chance to open my mouth. “Here’s the thing. See, Catherine asked me if I was interested in going on a blind date with one of Kris’s teammates. I said yes because it’s time for me to finally get back out there and try the dating scene again. But nothing so far has gone right. First, you were late. I was sitting here for a very long time, wondering if you were ever going to show up. And when you did, I was sorta expecting someone else. Someone.... well- you’re not exactly my type. No offense, or anything. But... I’m just not into guys like you.”
“What you mean, guys like me?” I ask.
“I like all-American men. Men who show up on time for dates and dress nicer than a button up. And I like men who can order for me, not someone who relies on others to order for them.”

Suddenly I feel like I’ve just blocked a Shea Weber shot with my stomach. I realize I was late, but it was only five minutes. And that wasn’t my fault. Also, I thought I picked out a great outfit for tonight. I even had approval from all three of my teammates’ wives, who wouldn’t have lied to me to spare my feelings. The only way I could be dressier is if I wore a tie. Or a full suit. But Catherine told me that this restaurant wasn’t that fancy. And it’s also not my fault that I had no idea what was on the menu. Had I known it was going to be completely in Italian, I would have looked it up earlier and asked one of my teammates to pick something for me.

“Am sorry.” I manage to get out through my embarrassment, unable to look up at her face. Unfortunately, when I’m nervous like this my English gets even worse. I can’t think straight, and that affects my abilities to translate my thoughts. “I was not aware that was what want. I’m think was good. Was try be good.”

She sighs, exasperated. “I don’t even understand what you’re saying.” She says. “I don’t speak muted, broken English.”

This comment stings more than anything else. If she doesn’t like the way I dress, that’s one thing. I can handle that. She has a problem with me being late? Okay, I could make an effort to be earlier. And she doesn’t like that I didn’t know the menu? Alright, I’ll never go on a date without checking out the restaurant’s menu online first. But when she makes fun of my accent, my “muted, broken English,” that’s when I know for sure this isn’t going to work.

It’s this moment when the waiter decides to bring by our food. Of course she’s chosen a lobster dish for herself that looks absolutely amazing. And-- and she’s chosen linguini for me. With red sauce. A meal that I could have made for myself at home without the pressure of this date with this woman who clearly was expecting someone that wasn’t me. It’s good food, don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing like eating traditional Italian food at a traditional Italian restaurant. But really, linguini and red sauce? It’s an insult to me and my sophistication. Just because I’m clearly not what she wanted doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t eat something more advanced that linguini with red sauce.

She was probably hoping this date was going to be with Sid. No- she said she likes American men. She was probably hoping it was Pauly. Sunshine, maybe? Except he’s very young. I quietly decide to myself that she must have been thinking it would be Pauly. He’s a great guy. Well-dressed, always on time, and charming with his Minnesota accent... Yeah, she was definitely expecting Pauly.

Neither of us bother with faking that we want to attempt to make this work. We barely even say another word to each other for the rest of the dinner, except when I ask her to pass the bread. She does, but gives me a judgmental look for wanting it. She’s probably calculating how many calories are in each roll and-- well, fuck that. I’m a hockey player. This is who I am. I eat thousands of calories every day. I’m almost always late to everything, I hate wearing ties, and my English flat out sucks most of the time. I’m not sorry that she doesn’t like the way that I am. I like the way that I am. And one day, I’ll find a woman who loves me not despite all of those things, but because of them.

The next time the waiter comes around, I ask for the check and hand him my credit card right away. I have no interest in pretending like I want to stay on this date any longer. I pay the bill and thank the waiter, hoping like hell he doesn’t go straight to Deadspin and share the story of Evgeni Malkin’s horrible, awkward date with the woman who begrudgingly ordered for him and then took the time to tell him just how stupid and wrong he is. I tip nicely, for his time, and when the two of us are done, I help her into her jacket and walk her out to her car. I bid her good night and walk away, a mixture of relief that the night is over, and maybe a little bit of disappointment. While I wasn’t really doing this for myself, I was actually looking forward to maybe meeting a woman to spend my time with. And it’s never fun to be rejected that badly.

As soon as I get home, I let Jeffry out into the back yard and change into a pair of sweats and a hoodie. I go back downstairs to let my dog into the house and follow him upstairs to my room, where he takes his usual position lying on his side of the bed. I plug my phone in and crawl in next to him without answering any of my messages. Which apparently is a big mistake. By the time I wake up the next morning, I have dozens of texts from my teammates and their wives, wondering how the night went. It kinda bothers me, the way it sounds like from my silence some of them assume that I brought her home. Even if the night had gone well, I’m a respectful man. I wouldn’t have brought her home after the first blind date.

Their messages annoy me so much that I decide not to go to morning skate. It’s optional, and I just don’t feel like facing them right now. Eventually I get up just long enough to let Jeffry out again and make myself a cup of coffee before settling into the couch to watch one of my favorite Russian movies.

Apparently, not going to practice is a huge mistake as well. About an hour after optional would have been over, I hear a couple of cars pull into my driveway. I shake my head as soon as I hear the slam of car doors and chatter outside my window. I’m up and to the door by the time the bell rings, and swing it open to find my teammates and their wives.

“Hello.” I say, turning around to head back to the couch.
“Hey, G. Have a good night?” Tanger asks as the seven of them take off their shoes in the foyer.
I roll my eyes, opening the back door to let my dog back in.
“Yeah, how was it?” Marc asks in a sly voice, settling in to the chair.
I respond with a noncommittal grunt and pause my movie.
“Was not worth it.” I say.
“What do you mean?” Vero asks, perching herself on Marc’s knee.
“She not happy I five minutes late. She not like my clothes. She not like my accent. She not like I can’t read menu. She not like I’m not American man. She tell me she not understand my broken English, then not talk to me for rest of night except say good night.” I admit, finding more interest in the calluses on my palms than my company.
“Oh, Geno.” Catherine sighs. I can hear the apology in her voice. “I am so sorry. I thought she was such a sweet girl. She was always kind and funny when I saw her.”
“Is okay, I guess.” I mumble, still not looking up.
“No, G.” Catherine says, appearing in front of me and forcing me to look up into her eyes. “It’s not okay. I can’t believe she would treat you like that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I’m never going to that salon again as long as she’s still working there. I promise you that. And I’ll tell the managers exactly why they’re losing my business. That is completely unacceptable. And ridiculous. You are an absolutely amazing man, and you don’t deserve to be treated that way.”
“Don’t change salon because I’m not right man for her.” I ask.
Catherine shakes her head, and I see Vero and Carol-Lynn doing the same behind her.
“It’s not about the blind date not working out, Geno.” Carol-Lynn says. “It’s about the way she treated you. I will not be returning to that salon as long as she’s working there either. And I’ll make sure all of my friends know that.”
“There are plenty of other salons in the area that are just as good. We’ll just go to them.” Vero adds.

I shrug my shoulders noncommittally, not too sure how to respond to their statements of support. I really don’t want to be talking about this anymore. It’s embarrassing and makes me feel bad about myself and I really just want to go back to watching my movie.

“Geno...” Vero starts softly. “If you don’t want us to continue to set you up, we’d understand. We’re so sorry that this happened to you.”
“Maybe.... I’m think about it.” I nod.

I think they take the hint that I’m not really in the mood to talk about last night anymore, and I hear a couple of people sigh.

“I think it’s time for us to leave.” Pascal says, giving me a caring and understanding look. “Let’s go.”

Vero, Catherine and Carol-Lynn each take turns hugging me, and I feel Marc and Tanger pat me on the back while I’ve got their wives in my grasp. Pascal gives me a nod from the doorway and the six of them head out, leaving just my captain and myself.

“G....” Sid starts, before sighing and moving into the room to take a seat on my couch. He pats the seat next to him and Jeffry takes that as his cue to join Sid on the couch. “Okay, that’s not what I meant... But okay.” He stands up and walks over to where I’m standing. “Look, Geno...” He shuffles on his feet and rubs the back of his neck. There’s a long pause where I can practically see him debating his words inside his head.
“You no good at talking with people.” I manage to chuckle, poking fun at him.
“Not at all.” He admits.
“Good thing you not talking with people. You talking with me.”
“Yeah.” Sid says. “Look, Geno... I just want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with you. I know Catherine already said that, but I want you to know one hundred percent. You’re a good guy, G. And you deserve a woman who sees that. Whether she’s from here in Pittsburgh or back home in Russia or wherever. You deserve that, and I know you’ll find her.”
“Thank you, Sid.” I say, taking to heart the words of my captain. I know it’s hard for him to talk about personal stuff like this. It’s just not who he is.
“Alright. Well, uh. I gotta go. Riley is expecting me to call soon and... yeah.”

I smile a little, following him to the door.

“I hope to meet Riley soon.” I say, not missing the fact that he willingly gave me a name to match with his new relationship.
“Yeah. I, uh... I hope you do too.”

Sid gets a wistful look in his face, and I’m pretty sure he wants to say something more. But he changes his mind, and gives me another smile and head nod before heading out to his car.

I sigh and head back to my couch, shoving Jeffry over just enough to return to my seat and kick my feet up on the table. I unpause the movie and settle in for a long afternoon.

Two weeks later, after a particularly awesome home game against the Wings, I’m talking briefly with Pavel about my life and how the season is going.

“When will you settle down with a nice girl, Zhenya?” He asks.
“You sound like my mother.” I shake my head.
“Well, only mother knows best.” He laughs.
“I’m not sure I want to be dating right now.” I admit. “I haven’t had a lot of luck lately.”
“Well that’s nonsense. You’re just not seeing the right women.” He says.
“I guess not.” I respond.
“Get out there, Zhenya.” He encourages. “I hate to see you so lonely.”
“I’m not lonely.” I argue. “I have Jeffry. And my teammates and their families.”
“Your dog and your friends’ families do not acquaint to a family of your own.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. But... I have such bad luck with women.

“Your teammates’ wives must know someone for you.” He suggests. “Look, Zhenya, I have to go. Call your mother and listen to her. Find a nice woman. Take care of yourself. At least go on a date to get your mother off your back, yes?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I chide before heading back into the family room in search for Vero. I know what I have to do.

Four days later, I’m getting ready for yet another blind date. This time, it’s Vero’s choice. She told me that her name is Alice. She works at the vet that they take their dog to, and also works at a local animal shelter. Better yet, Vero tells me that she speaks Russian. That makes me more excited than anything.

The two of us both have very busy schedules, so we decide to have our date at the local coffee shop after her shift at the vet and before she’s supposed to be at the animal shelter. I wish I could take her out on a real date, but unfortunately we’re heading on a week-long road trip in two days and today is the only available time that Alice and I have. I like that this isn’t a fancy dinner, and I’m able to wear jeans and a plaid shirt.

I learned my lesson from the first blind date, and make sure I’m not only on time, but a little early. Vero told me her drink choice, so I order both of them and claim a table in the back of the coffee shop where we’ll have a little bit of privacy. Alice shows up right on time, and I stand to meet her. She greets me with a hug, a huge difference from the first date.

“Hi, you must be Evgeni.” She says, pronouncing my name perfectly.
“Yes. You must be Alice.” I respond.
“That would be me!” She laughs and takes the seat I offer her.
“Is nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” She says.

The two of us hit it off almost immediately. It seems as though we have a lot in common, which is really nice to find. We both love animals, she loves to skate and enjoys watching hockey, and we both appreciate Russian movies over American movies. Alice tells me about growing up with an Army Lieutenant for a father, traveling from Army base to Army base. She spent six years in Moscow, which explains why she’s practically fluent in Russian. I tell her about growing up with a full Russian family, and we share stories about places and experiences we’ve had around the world. It’s nice, and I feel like I could really enjoy spending more time with her.

“So, is this your first blind date?” She asks as we’re about done with our drinks, and thus our date.
“No.” I respond. “Is my second.”
“Oh. What happened with the first?”
I pause with my mouth pulled tight, still completely embarrassed about the story.
“She was not expecting me.” I answer. “She wanted other man.”
“Well, I think she really missed out.” Alice responds kindly.
“Thank you.” I smile.

She sighs.

“That’s why I feel terrible for what I’m about to say.” I look at her, confused. “Look, Evgeni. You’re by far one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met. You’re so kind and funny and you have so much to offer. But...”
“But I am not right man for you, either.” I finish her sentence, biting my lip. She sighs.

“I... I have to explain something, okay? There’s this guy I work with at the animal shelter. His name is Keith. He’s-he’s so great. We went on a date a couple weeks ago, and everything was fantastic. But I was afraid of starting a relationship with him. Since we work together, you know? There’s no rules against it since we’re both volunteers and not actually paid by the shelter. I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea though. But... but I can’t stop thinking about him. We both felt like there was something between us, and I can’t help but have him on my mind all the time. I-I want to give it a shot... With Keith... I’m so sorry, Evgeni. But I didn’t realize this until I’ve been sitting here with you. I think you’re an amazing man, and you’re going to make someone a very lucky lady one day. But I just don’t think that lady is meant to be me.”

“I understand.” I say in Russian, not trusting my English with my emotions right now. “I hope that Keith realizes he is a lucky man.”
“Thank you.” She responds in English. “I... This might be totally out of line. But... I was kind of hoping we could at least be friends? It’s very hard to find people around here who appreciate Russian culture. And even harder to find someone who speaks the language. It’s been so nice talking to you about it all.”
“Yes.” I say instantly, sure of my answer. “Would be nice to have American friend who like Russia. Maybe cook food and watch movies.”
“Of course.” She smiles.

I can’t help but smile back. So she’s not my next girlfriend. She’s not my forever-woman. But I think I’ve at least just made a new friend. And that makes me happy a little.

Later on, when I’ve got Vero on the phone, I tell her that. She, of course, is apologetic about the whole thing. But I assure her it’s nothing like the last time. This date with Alice was good for me, I think. While I’m still single, it left me feeling positive about myself. Like maybe there’s a chance I won’t be single forever.

She tells me that Carol-Lynn hasn’t picked someone yet. She has a couple ladies in mind that the three of them have discussed. But she wanted to wait until after the other two dates to make a final decision.

“We’ll find you a good girl, Geno. I promise.” She assures me.
“Is okay if you no find girl.” I promise her. “I maybe ask Sasha to help when in Moscow.”
“Ovechkin?” She laughs. “He’ll help find you a woman for one night. But not someone real. Not someone for the long-term. And that’s what you deserve.”

I thank Vero and give her the go-ahead to tell Carol-Lynn I’ll meet her pick. I’m sure that Carol-Lynn will take her time, wanting to make sure she chooses the right woman for me to see.

Two days later, I get an email from Pascal with tickets attached to it. I’m going to the Steelers game on Sunday afternoon with Chelsea, one of the Dupis kids’ former tutors. He tells me to dress warmly, despite being in one of the suites. I choose a pair of dark wash jeans and a long sleeved Penguins shirt. For good measure, I pull on my Steelers hoodie and Penguins beanie.

Unlike the other dates, this time I’m actually picking Chelsea up at her house. I’m a little nervous, so I text Alice for some advice. She tells me to just relax and be myself. That everything will work out if it’s meant to be. I’m grateful for her words of encouragement.

I pull up to Chelsea’s apartment complex, intending on heading up the stairs to get her. But before I’m even out of my car, a small brunette is rushing out to meet me in the cold. She’s wearing dark skinny jeans and black boots with a black Steelers hoodie and a white knit hat. She’s beautiful, and I can’t help but smile.

“Hi, I’m Chelsea.” She says, meeting me at my driver’s side door.
“I’m Geno.” I respond, holding my hand out for a shake. She chuckles and takes it and I surprise her by lifting it to my mouth for a kiss. “Come. Is cold outside. Car is warmer.”

I lead her around and open her door for her, helping her up into my truck.

“Thank you.” She says. I smile in return.

Driving to Heinz field, we get to know each other a little bit. She tells me that she’s been a Pittsburgh girl her whole life, and is a huge sports fan. She says she even skipped school to be at the Cup parade in 2009. She says she wasn’t aware of who she was going to be tutoring when she answered the Dupis’s request, and was shocked when it turned out to be them. She says she wasn’t sure who Carol-Lynn was setting her up with, but she’s glad it’s me. I can’t help but think about how different this already is than the first two dates. She’s sweet and funny, but there’s also something more between us. There’s a connection that I hadn’t felt with Alice. Something that says we could be more than friends. If that’s what she wants.

I’m surprised when I get to the stadium that they won’t let me park in the priority lot, but they say it’s been full for weeks. It doesn’t matter than I’m technically a VIP. I have to park somewhere else. I guess that’s because we got our tickets last minute. I don’t mind, though. Even though it’s a cold and windy day, I seize the opportunity to stay a little closer to Chelsea as we’re walking from the parking lot down the street.

I try to keep my head down low in order to avoid fans recognizing me, but unfortunately it’s a little hard to hide when my face is so recognizable. As we’re crossing the final street to get to the stadium, I notice a couple of fans taking interest in me. I calmly grab Chelsea’s hand and whisper to her to follow me.

Trying to avoid the impending mob, I duck away from the normal gates and head to the side entrance where I’ve gone in before. Fortunately, the security guard recognizes me and lets us in, despite not having the right credentials for this entrance. We’re shown to the elevator that will take us right up to the suite where we’re sitting.

“Well, I guess being with a hockey superstar has it’s perks.” Chelsea laughs once the elevator doors close, still holding onto my hand.
“Wouldn’t have to use side entrance if not with me.” I apologize, feeling bad that I dragged her away from the crowds.
“I wouldn’t have minded, you know. If you wanted to say hi to them.”
“Wouldn’t have been fun for you.” I admit. “Lots of people. All ask for picture and autograph. Would have been stuck for hour. Miss game.”
“Is it like that everywhere you go?” She asks.
“Sometimes. We go to same places, so most people know us. Same restaurants, same bars, same grocery stores. Shock has worn off for them. Is not big deal. But sometime we go new place, and is impossible to eat dinner.”
“That must suck.”
“Is what we have to deal with. Fans like us. They support and cheer us. They love us. I no have room to complain, you know?”
“Yeah.” She smiles.

The elevator doors open and the two of us head towards the suite where I know we’re siting. I pull the tickets out of my pocket and show them to the door attendant, who lets us in. The suite is mostly empty, which is a surprise. Every time I’ve been here it’s been jam packed.

“So who’s suite is this?” Chelsea asks.
“Is suite for Penguins and Pirates.” I answer. “Teams share to show support. We have box for Pirates and Steelers, Pirates have box for us and Steelers.”
“Oh. Are any of your teammates going to be herae?” She asks, a little nervously.
“I’m not know. Were Duper’s tickets he give to me.”
“Okay.”
“Hey.” I say, grabbing her wrist lightly so she’ll look at me. “Is okay?”
“Yeah.” She says.
“If you no want to be here....”
“No, Geno. I do. Trust me.”
“Okay.”

The two of us take our seats just as the Steelers kick off. I recognize a couple of Pirates on the other side of the box and smile at them, getting nods in return. But my main focus is Chelsea. I ask her about being a tutor for the Dupis children, which makes her laugh.

“They can be quite a handful.” She admits. “But they’re great kids. Pascal and Carol-Lynn have taught them to be so respectful. It’s a joy to work with them.”
“What you help them with?” I ask.
“Mainly math and reading. But I speak with them in French occasionally, too.”
“You speak French?”
“Yes. I took it in high school and then added it as a minor in college.”
“Is good language to know. Especially in NHL.”
“Do you know any?” She asks.
“I know few cuss words. Max teach me.” I offer, knowing that’s not what she means. She laughs, though. And her smile is stunning.
“Well I’ll teach you some French if you teach me Russian.”
“You want to know Russian?” I ask, surprised.
“Yeah. I wanted to take it in high school, but they only offered one level. I would have had to take another language also to fulfill my graduation requirements, so I just stuck to French.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” I say in Russian, translating it after she gives me a confused face.
“Merci.” She says.
“Now that word, I know.” I chuckle.

At halftime, the Steelers are wining and Chelsea excuses herself to use the restroom. I take the opportunity to check my phone, and am glad I put it on silent before I picked her up. I’ve got a bunch of messages from my teammates and their wives, but also a couple from my mother and brother. I respond to my family quickly, saying I’ll call them later tonight, and ignore the others. Except Carol-Lynn.

To her, I send a simple message.

Notes

Enjoy, friends.

I'm now actively trying to get my list done.

If you like Geno and/or you like my writing, check out my latest story, Citius, Altius, Fortius.