Mixed Loyalty
#19 of Hockey Hunk Season 6
Mixed Loyalty
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Hello, folks, and welcome to The Hockey Hunk!
This week's second chapter is posted on Thursday due to my weekend commitments, but that doesn't mean you're deprived of story, since I'm posting today to compensate - woot, right? I think I'll be more than happy to go away while I know that I've done my authorial duties. *Chuckle* And I do hope that you'll enjoy the read, as always, and I look forward to seeing your feedback, of course!
Cheers, y'all!
*
I was deeply immersed on the news on the computer when I heard the car pull up on the driveway, and that set me in motion. I dashed from the living room and onto the kitchen, passing through the house to see everything was neat, and then, knowing I had only seconds to spare, rushed into the kitchen to make sure dinner was proceeding well, which I found it to be. I'd barely closed the oven, cutting the lovely influx of cooking smells, when the front door was opened.
"In the kitchen!" I called out while removing my oven mittens like a careful surgeon after an operation.
Paul slugged his way into the kitchen after a few moments, his backpack slug over one shoulder which gave him the appearance of the typical teenaged slouch, at least for the moment, while he peered at me through his slim spectacles, his whiskers moving curiously while he sampled the air.
"You've made brisket," Paul observed.
I beam-purred and nodded in kind, and my tail tapped the oven door.
"I did!" I declared happily.
"I didn't know you know how," Paul said.
"Well I have practiced," I replied. "And I only burned a few while I was at it!"
"Like, today?" he questioned.
"No, no!" I chortled. "I've been practicing for years! And I was working all day today, I started cooking as soon as I came home!"
He sniffled.
"At least it smells about right," Paul said.
"Oh I hope so," I said, "otherwise grandmother Crane would disown me."
"I thought she already did," Paul said.
"Oy..." I shook my head.
"Just teasing," Paul declared while he dropped his backpack onto a spare chair and settled himself down onto the chair by it, assuming a very relaxed pose indeed.
"How was your day?" I asked eagerly. "Food will be ready in half an hour or so, so I hope that you're not too hungry and not too full from snacking either!"
"I'm fine," Paul said. "I can wait."
"Good, good!" I smiled. "And how was the school?"
"The same as yesterday, dad," he replied. "It's school."
"But the curriculum looks really interesting!" I exclaimed. "Chemistry, physics, biology..."
"it's school, dad," he repeated with further emphasis on the word, " I've got a hundred pages to read for tomorrow."
"Ah, that's student life for you!" I smiled fatherly, I hoped. "I'll have to check the store requisition forms for today, too, so that'll keep me busy during the evening."
"So is that 'ah, endless work life' for you?" my son questioned with pursed lips.
I hmmmm'ed and rubbed my muzzle in thought.
"Well, being the partner means that I have to do my share of the paperwork, too, can't avoid that," I replied. "Besides, it's not so bad."
"Feeling your natural urge for bookkeeping emerge, dad?" Paul suggested.
I chuckled.
"Great-uncle Hemann got those genes," I said, "I just do what I have to do."
"I wish I got some too," Paul rumbled. "Math is difficult."
"I can always help!" I offered brightly.
"Thanks," he said in a somewhat distant tone. "It just takes me a lot of time, is all."
"It'll get better once you get the hang of it," I said, "get into the groove and..."
"Dad, I've been educated for 12 years already, and I'm looking at 12 more years before it's all behind me, do you think I'm not in the groove yet?"
I hmmmm'ed.
"Well, when you put it like that..."
"I think I've got the handle of it, dad."
He sounded like he really did, so I decided it was best not to continue on that train of interrogation for now.
"Alright," I smiled, "that's very good, then! And how about the job seeking? Did you go to that sports store and the bookshop?"
"The sports store was a dead end, they'd already filled the position," he said, "so that was a bust, but the bookstore seems a bit more hopeful."
"How did that go?" I asked.
"I had a talk with the boss, and she says that she'll be in touch."
"Hey, that's great news!" I beamed. "Maybe you'll get lucky!"
"Yeah, maybe," Paul said. "Depends on how many furs they've had asking for the job."
"Well, you have good credentials, at least, that must be in your favor!" I enthused. "What was it, two years at that bookbinder's shop?"
"Almost two years," he said, "but considering how slow that place is, I'm not sure if that counts as much."
"That's still two years of customer service experience, not many furs of your age can claim to that," I replied.
"It mostly looks good on paper," Paul said.
"That's all that matters now," I said, "and when you get the job, then you can prove them with your hard work and your charming personality!"
Paul snorted.
"How do you know I have a charming personality?"
"Dads know this kind of things," I tapped my nosepad, "plus, you are my son, that ought to be an indication of it."
"Don't tell that to grandmother Crane," Paul replied.
I chuckled.
"I wonder what my mother would think about her name being synonymous to everything that is terrible," I spoke.
"She'd probably note her disappointment in the very small number of grandchildren you provided for her, hence less furs to terrorize."
My thoughts passed to Hal and his awful relatives, including surprisingly nimble sticker-gluing grannies, and decided that perhaps the looming presence of grandmother Crane wasn't such a bad thing in comparison.
"Perhaps indeed," I demurred.
"Besides, Joel got that job for me, since his sister is married to Kaminski's son," Paul noted.
Dang! The mention of the name brought the furs on the back of my neck up, not a thing I was proud of, especially not in front of Paul. Still, the impulse was...strong, indeed, my possessive streak of protectiveness for my very own kin that was my son, and the knowledge that Joel of all furs had done things I was supposed to do, such as secure a job for him using family and friend connections, just like any good father did or faced the wrath of his wife.
I faced that wrath anyway, so at least I did that part right, perhaps, but Joel...that damn Joel...
"Well I did ask around," I defended myself somewhat feebly as I suggested that at least I tried, "the job market seems awfully poor at the moment, though."
"You found the bookstore job, too, so I've got you to thank for it, anyway, if I get it," Paul replied. "Maybe I'll get lucky."
"Oh I'm sure you will!" I smiled. "I'm sure you made a great impression! Being smartly dressed and polite and..."
"Boring?" Paul proposed.
My ears stood up.
"Who ever said those things are boring?"
"Girls, maybe?" Paul said.
"I think that around your age, he girls stop liking bad boys and wanting something more reliable," I said, "like you."
Paul chuckled.
"That might've been in the 70's, but today, I don't think there's an upper age limit to when girls stop liking bad boys."
I looked at my son and wondered just how he could turn into a bad boy, considering that he was wearing trousers that were actually pressed at the seams.
"I was your age during the 90's," I corrected duly.
"That might as well be another century," Paul replied.
I already opened my muzzle to retort before I realized how ludicrous it surely would've sounded like, and chortled inside.
"Oh you," I smiled.
"Oh you too," he stretched his arms a little while rolling his shoulders and generally seeming like he was planning to finally get to relax a little after what must've been a very long day for him, too.
"Did the car run well today?"
"Yeah."
"The gearbox has been cleaned about a year ago after there were some sort of a lubrication problem there, but the previous owner assured me that t works like a charm now - "
"Yeah, dad, the gears change without a problem."
"Well I was just wondering."
"Thanks, but the car works just fine."
"That's really nice to hear!" I smiled. "It's good that you can get around easily without having to worry about it."
"Mom thought it's a bit much, though."
I tensed a little at the mention of Rachel, but I kept a neutral face.
"You told mom?" I asked, specifically, considering that I hadn't told her about the rather sizeable gift I had given to Paul as a combined welcome-to-stay-with-me-high-school-graduation present.
"She phoned yesterday. She phones every day, you know."
"I don't know," I said. "She doesn't phone me."
"That's between you and her, dad."
"I know it is," I said. "And I didn't know what she thought about the car."
"Like I said, she thinks it's a bit much," Paul noted.
And paying for Paul's college wasn't much? She wasn't complaining about that! So college was expected, and a car was...spoiling him? Or what?
"Well I think you need a car, and since you're going to be working and go to the college and I need my car, and your car isn't even new, it's a very good used car and - "
"Thought you were supposed to explain this to mom, not me," Paul raised a paw.
"I won't," I replied, somewhat more harshly than I wanted it to be, "I've nothing to explain."
"I won't get involved in that," Paul clapped his paws against the tabletop as he let out a weary sigh, "I've heard enough of this sniping game between you two."
"We are civil," I said.
"Barely, judging by the amount of complaining mom does to Joel."
My damn tail bristled. I didn't like that feeling. Especially not in front of Paul.
"Well that is her issue, and that's between your mother and her husband."
"He's also my father, dad."
That stopped me right on my tracks.
"Not out of charity, or a sense of duty, but because he wants to, dad," Paul added.
I felt so awfully selfish at that moment. I wanted to yell that Paul only belonged to me, and that...that Joel had nothing to do with him, and never did. Rachel be damned for doing whatever she did with him, but as for my son...hearing such mixed loyalty, even if stated as mildly as he did, was hard to take.
Paul stood up and picked up his bag.
"I'll take this upstairs and wash my paws before dinner," he said before walking out of the room.
Suddenly I didn't feel hungry at all anymore.
*
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See you on Monday!