Ruby Jane

"I forgot nine times seven!" Lucy yelled from her bedroom.

Lisa's hands were currently coated with ground meat, so she did not go into Lucy's bedroom to help her. "What's the rule of nines?" she called instead.

"Oh yeah…" came from the bedroom.

"Do you want me to help her?" I asked.

"She'll get it," she said. "I need you to paint some ketchup right here on top. I think I'm done with the gross part." She held up the wooden spoon she'd been using to shove mashed potatoes into the center of the baking dish and began to laugh. "I feel like I just violated two and a half pounds of ground meat."

Her laughter was infectious, and my giggles made it difficult to smooth on the ketchup. "Remind me why anyone thought stuffing a meatloaf was a good idea?"

With a grin, she just shook her head, reaching for a paper towel. "I hope she appreciates it."

"Do you mean Lucy, or your mom?" I asked quietly.

Her eyes looked sad. "Lucy, of course."

"She will," I promised.

"I know." She kissed my cheek on the way to the sink, and I hefted the dish into the preheated oven.

Most nights, Lisa and Lucy ate in the Beaumont dining hall. And when I wasn't eating with The Katies, or having rehearsal for the folk music group I'd joined, I often met them for dinner. But Lucy had been asking her to make their mother's stuffed meatloaf, and tonight — a Sunday — she'd finally given in.

Unfortunately, we didn't have their mother's recipe. Lisa and Ten had cleaned out the house before the bank sold it. She didn't let me or Lucy help. "Not much to save," she'd said of that sad task. She'd taken her father's bureau, and a dresser for Lucy, which I'd painted pink one Saturday during Christmas break.

Her mother's meatloaf recipe would therefore remain lost. So I'd chosen one off the Internet. I'd doubled the garlic, though, just as my own mother would have done. It gave me a guilty stab to think about my mom all alone now in our house. She and I didn't speak. But the more distance I'd put between last year and my new life, the more possible it seemed that I could eventually get past a few of our differences.

Eventually.

I'd spent Christmas break here, with Lisa and Lucy. And I'd also spent a few days visiting Brian in Boston. "You don't have to come, if you're not ready," he'd said when he invited me. "But you'll always have a standing invitation."

I went. It wasn't an easy few days for us, but I was glad to have done it. My next visit would probably be easier. We spoke on the phone once a week, and had plans to see a classical guitar concert in Boston next month.

From the kitchen counter, Lisa's phone chimed. "Someone's messaging you," I said.

"Tell me who it is?" she asked, her hands in the dishwater.

I picked it up. "Ten. He wants to know where you're eating because he needs to ask you something."

After drying her hands, Lisa took the phone and rung Ten. "I cooked tonight," she said when her friend answered.

"Who cooked?" I prompted.

"Listen, lady," she lifted her beautiful chin in my direction. "It was me who was just up to my ears in raw hamburger."

"Fair point."

She went back to her call. "So if you want to see me, come over." There was a pause. "Nothing. Just bring your pretty face. No rush. It won't be ready for an hour." She hung up.

"Did you see any of last night's game?" I asked, stealing a crumb of Parmesan cheese off the cutting board where I'd grated it.

"I watched the whole thing this morning, as soon as the video was loaded," Lisa confessed. She still had the team password, which gave her access to the game tapes. "It was awesome."

I'd gone to the game in person with The Katies, watching the Harkness men's team clinch their quarterfinal series against Cornell. Now they were off to the conference semifinals. "When Ten made that goal through the five-hole, the place went nuts."

"It's just wild to see the team in first place." Lisa took a head of broccoli out of the fridge and unwrapped it. "That's never happened before."

"Actually, it last happened in 1982."

"Stickler," she grinned. Then she rinsed the broccoli under the sink.

And it killed me. Lisa was rinsing a head of broccoli, while her hockey team was preparing to sweep the conference. She didn't even appear frustrated. I didn't know how she could stand it. Watching last night, I'd been bitten by the bug again. Every time Ten's team took possession of the puck, I'd wanted to run out and get my skates sharpened.

"Let me cut that up," I said, nudging her away from the cutting board. "You open the wine."

"Now we're talking."

Ten came through the door forty-five minutes later, carrying a bag from the cupcake bakery on Bank Street.

"Whoa!" Lucy said, swooping in to relieve him of the bag. "Ooh!" she squealed. "The mini ones!"

"Hold up," Lisa said, lifting it over her head. "Dinner first."

"I just want to peek!"

She didn't budge for a second. "Is your math done?"

She nodded, jumping for the bag.

"Even the division?"

"There wasn't any today," she said. "I hate division. It's hard."

Lisa chuckled. "Is it?" she lowered the cupcakes. "If we divided those evenly, how many do you get?"

Lucy slid the plastic clamshell out of the bag and eyed it for a second. "Three."

"Good girl. Now what do you say to Ten?"

"Thank you thank you thank you!" she said, skittering off to admire the tiny cupcakes in peace.

"Wine?" Lisa asked Ten.

"Of course."

Lisa poured it, and then went to check on the meat. "This looks great," she said, reaching for the hot pads.

"Smells good," Ten agreed. "What did you make?"

Lisa chuckled. "You tell me."

The kitchen area was tiny, so I traded places with Ten. "You made a stuffed meatloaf? Seriously?" He laughed. "That reminds me so much of middle school. Dinner at your house, after a bantam game."

"I know, right? Let's eat it."

We sat around the coffee table, because the tiny cafe table where Lucy and Lisa usually ate together wasn't big enough for four. With our knees tucked underneath the table, everybody tried a bite.

"Wow," Ten said. "This is so much better than…" Lisa gave him a warning look. "…I remembered," he finished.

"No," Lucy argued, chewing. "It's just the same. Lisa made it just the same."

"That's what I meant," Ten said, forking up another chunk. "It's exactly the same. The garlic is a nice touch."

Lisa winked at me, and I smiled. In a weird way, Lisa's mom and my mom had collaborated on this dish. The two women who'd caused the most trouble in our lives were here at the table, too. I filed that thought away to examine later.

Ten helped himself to the broccoli, and then pointed his fork at Lisa. "I have an important question for you. But I guess it's also a question for Ruby Jane."

I met Lisa's eyes, but she gave a little shrug, letting me know that she had no idea what this was about.

"Did you hear about Mike Graham's concussion?"

Lisa winced. "That looked bad on the tape. But when Orsen came into the coffee shop, he told me Graham was going to be okay."

"He will be," Ten said. "But he's out for the rest of the season."

"That sucks. He was your second best enforcer."

"I'm shorthanded, Lis. I want you to come to practice tomorrow."

Lisa's fork halted halfway to her mouth.

"I know you have obligations. But there are just two conference finals. And then four NCAA championship games. Six games in five weeks. And that's only if we made it all the way."

"Which you will," I piped up. "Lisa, tell him yes!" I shouldn't have spoken up like the pushy girlfriend that I was. But God. How many times in your life do you get a chance like that?

"Not sure how that would work," Lisa dodged. "We'll talk about this later." She ate her bite of food and looked away.

I knew she was right — we couldn't get into the nitty gritty details of Lisa's family obligations with Lucy sitting right there. But I could see her wheels turning across the table from me.

Do it, I begged silently.

"I haven't been on skates for a year, dude," she said while Ten washed the dishes.

"It's like riding a bike," Ten insisted, handing her a rinsed plate.

"Okay. But I haven't been to the varsity weight room more than five times this season. And that's not like riding a bike."

"I don't care," Ten argued. "We're going to end up dressing a couple of walk-ons. I'd rather have you."

"Mike is a defenseman."

Ten just shrugged. "You might have to play D. Or someone else might have to. Coach will figure it out."

Lisa shook her head. "There are so many problems with this scenario."

"No there aren't!" I hissed, checking over my shoulder to see if Lucy was listening. But she was flipping channels on the TV. "I'll cover you, Lis. Lucy's been asking me to teach her to play the guitar."

"Practice can go pretty late," Lisa argued. "That's a lot of guitar."

"Six games, tops," Ten said. "Three is more likely. My mom can help out if it goes into the end of the month. She's got spring break."

"I'll think about it," Lisa said.

"Think quick. Practice is at four o'clock tomorrow."

"I will." She glanced at the clock on the microwave. "Right now I have to chase Lucy into bed. Are those teeth brushed, buddy?"

Ten and I finished up in the kitchen while Lisa tucked Lucy in. "Do you think she'll do it?" He asked me.

"If she doesn't, I'll be devastated," I admitted. "If one of your goalies gets injured, you have my number, right?"

Ten grinned. "I'll keep you in mind." His face became serious then. "There's something I've been meaning to mention to you."

"What's that?" I put the last forks into the drawer and closed it.

"I got my first pair of new hockey skates when I was ten. Up until then I only had yard sale equipment. One pair was orange, and the other kids used to mock me."

That seemed unlikely. "Until you skated circles around them."

"Well, sure," he smiled. "But they never fit right, you know? Not until Steel Wings came along and gave me the real thing."

"Oh."

Oh. That shut me up, and fast. In one of the newspaper articles, I'd read that my father's charity had given out two million dollars' worth of equipment. Until now, I'd never met anyone who'd received any of it.

Ten's big brown eyes held mine. "They cost eighty bucks, Ruby Jane. They were the nicest things I'd ever owned. And I kept them on my desk so I could look at them between games."

"That's…" I didn't know what to do with that. "Aren't you glad you never met the founder, though?"

He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. "Of course I am. I'm not trying to excuse what he did. But the help he gave me was straightforward. And it was real."

"Okay," I said softly. "Thank you for telling me."

Ten pulled me into a quick hug. "No problem. I've got to run and try to do some homework before next week drags me under."

"Thanks for the cupcakes," I said.

He winked, reaching for his jacket. "There's a dozen more in it for you and Lucy if you can get her ass to practice tomorrow."

"I'll do my best."

--

Lisa

After I brushed my teeth, I turned the lights out in the living room. Then I locked the front door. As the bolt slid into place, I felt a powerful contentment. The people I loved best were both on the same side of this door, home with me right now.

While Ten's offer thrilled me, I already had what I needed. It was right here in this modest apartment.

I tiptoed into my bedroom and clicked the doorknob lock into place. Lucy never wandered into my room in the night, but it was more fun getting naked with Ruby Jane if I knew that she couldn't accidentally get an eyeful.

My girlfriend laid in the middle of the bed, hogging both pillows, her hands behind her head. There was a gleam in her eye, and I felt it in all the right places. With one hand, I stripped the t-shirt over my head. And I swear that gleam burned brighter. "Get over here," she said.

The demand wasn't Ruby Jane's style, but I loved it. And so did the most ambitious part of my body. I stripped off my jeans, followed by my rapidly tightening underwear. Then I climbed onto the end of the bed, watching her track me with that heated gaze.

Crawling up her body, I trapped her under the sheet. "Did you want something from me?"

"I did. I do," she corrected.

I dropped down, supporting myself on my forearms. My pelvis molded into hers, and the only barrier between us was the sheet. Holy shit, she was naked under there. "What is it that you wanted?" I asked. "I like you bossy, by the way."

"Good thing," she said, arching up to me. "Because I'm going to boss you around tonight."

I swear, the whoosh of a flame that her words lit inside me was practically audible. I was on fire already, and she hadn't even touched me yet. "Boss me," I challenged. "Let's hear you."

Ruby Jane put her hands on my bare ass and said, "go to practice tomorrow."

I laughed. "That's not where I thought this was going."

"Oh, there are lots of places this could take us," she whispered, stroking me with soft hands. "Just promise me you'll go."

With one hand, I peeled back the sheet between us as far as I could without climbing off her. "What do I get if I go?"

Ruby Jane's brow quirked. "You get to skate in the semis, dumbass."

"Jesus, I love you," I said, dipping my head to kiss the creamy breast that I'd exposed. "Sexy and tough in one pretty package."

Her face softened then. And as I continued to tease her nipple with my lips, she melted beneath me. I wiggled my way under the sheet, kissing every bit of skin I uncovered along the way.

Maybe she'd already said her piece. Or maybe I'm just that good a lover. But I didn't hear any more attempts at negotiation. There were only soft sighs, and the feel of her velvet skin against mine. She was loving every minute of it. In no time at all I was reaching into the nightstand for necessary equipment. And then lowering my body onto hers, teasing her with myself, and then moving away again.

"Hey!" she said, and I laughed.

"Got a plane to catch, Ruby Jane?"

"You're not a nice person."

"Oh, but I am." I dropped my lips to her belly and began kissing her there. Meanwhile, my hand slid to a place that made her gasp. I looked up at her. "Ruby Jane," I said, removing my hand. "How good a hockey player are you, anyway?"

"Umm," she gasped. "Who cares, Lis…"

I chuckled into her belly button. "How good, Ruby Jane?"

"All state MVP," she mumbled.

I lifted my head. "Could you take me one-on-one?"

Her eyes popped open. "I'm trying to. Right now."

I hitched myself up on her body, grinning. "I'm serious. Who would win?"

She dropped her head onto the pillow in frustration. "You could out shoot me," she told the ceiling. "But I might be more maneuverable. And you couldn't deke me very easily. Too many hours spent watching for defensive gaps."

I looked down at her. "Do you have any idea how sexy that is? I want to play you. I think I can win, as long as you're wearing clothes. Will you play me sometime?" she didn't say anything, so I slid my hand back where it was before. "Please?" I begged.

"Sure," she smiled. "I'd love to."

"Yesss…" I said, finally pressing forward, sliding home. Ruby Jane's eyelids fluttered closed, and I caught her moan in my mouth.

Life was very, very good.

--

Ruby Jane

The student section was crammed full of fans. It was standing room only. But Lucy and I made our way to the adjacent section, where the VIP seats were. Every guy on the team received two tickets to give out. We found ours next to Wendy and Theresa, and right in front of the women's hockey team.

"Lucy!" Theresa said. "I hear you're coming for a sleepover at my house if the team goes to Philadelphia."

"I hope they do," Lucy said. "That would be fun."

After we got settled, Coach Samantha Smith — the very woman I'd had to quit to in September — touched Wendy and I on the shoulders. "How have you been, ladies?"

"Great!" Wendy enthused. "I promised Ten that if they made it to the Frozen Four, I'd paint his number on my face."

Coach laughed. "The way the team looks, you might have to go through with it."

"It would be worth a little humiliation to see them do that well," Wendy said.

Coach turned to me. "And how are you doing…" she stopped. "I'm sorry, I forgot your name."

"Ruby Jane," I supplied.

"Ruby Jane," she said with an apologetic look. But I wasn't offended. She'd recruited me for an entire year as Jennie.

"She's famous, Coach," the girl sitting beside her said.

Crap. My smile melted away as I examined the girl, who wore a Harkness Women's Hockey jacket. I didn't think I knew her.

Coach's eyebrows lifted, as if she wasn't sure what to say either.

"…She's famous for catching Lisa Manoban," the girl said with grin. "Nobody's ever done that before."

"That's my sister you're talking about," Lulu chirped. "She isn't very easy to catch, because she's fast."

The player's cheeks turned pink. "That's… exactly what I meant," she said, while the other girls around her laughed.

Coach winked at me, and the subject was dropped.

"Good evening!" boomed the announcer over the sound system. "And welcome to the Eastern College Hockey Conference semifinal game between Harkness College and Quinnipiac!"

The crowd gave a loud cheer, and U2's familiar guitar intro to Where The Streets Have No Name began to swell under the announcer's words. "Allow me to introduce your team. From Etna, Connecticut, your captain Ten Lee!"

Now, you'd think that our bench would cheer the loudest, but it sounded to me as if every female at Harkness College gave a fan girl scream. One by one, the players skated to their blue line as they were introduced. "From Harkness, Connecticut, left wing Lisa Manoban!" Lucy popped up to shriek along with a couple thousand other fans, and even from the tenth row I could see that Lisa's smile was enormous.

"All rise," boomed the announcer over the sound system. "…For the National Anthem, sung for you tonight by Harkness's own Something Special."

"This is it!" Lucy said, standing up, putting a hand over her heart.

The lights dimmed, and the crowd grew quiet. On the upper deck, the girls' singing group leaned in to their microphones and sang the national anthem. I must be turning into a giant sap, because I actually teared up. There was no place in the world I'd rather be tonight than here.

From the face-off on, I was glued to the action. Both teams wanted this game bad. It was fast, intense, and glorious. The only bad moment was when Lisa was cross-checked into the boards. She went down hard, and Lucy panicked a little.

"She's fine," I insisted, pulling her into my lap. "Just give her a second."

Coach Smith tapped Lucy on the shoulder, offering her a Skittle. And by the time the little girl turned back toward the ice, Lisa was skating again.

I looked over my shoulder. "Thank you," I mouthed.

Then Coach leaned in. "Will you have coffee with me next week? I'd like to stay in touch."

I wasn't expecting that. The idea that Coach wanted to chat about next season sent butterflies into my stomach. I took a deep breath of the icy rink air and let myself consider it. The sounds echoing around me — of steel scraping ice, and the puck smacking the boards — were as familiar to me as breathing.

"You know, I'd like that," I told her.

"Awesome," she said.

I turned back then, to catch Lisa hopping over the wall for her shift. Lucy wiggled in my lap, and the puck skidded across my line of vision. I checked the clock. There were only two minutes left in the period.

It was the goalie's job to see the whole ice at once. I'd spent the past few months feeling that I'd failed at the job. But tonight I understood that if you kept your heart in the game, there would always be one more period to play. And excellent people to play it with.

Game on.

THE END . . .