Chapter 14: Foppa II—Her Name was Jo!

"Hey Fops," Drury said to Peter as the team was filing out of their Phoenix hotel room onto the bus. They were on their way for the morning skate.

The sun was glinting dry and bright, and Peter blinked up into it, wishing that he could just spend a weekend off here. He looked at Drury’s round face. "Yeah," he answered.

"What’s up with Mike Modano? I mean why would he chase down our bus like that in Dallas as we were leaving the arena, what was he screaming about?" Drury asked.

"Was it cause Footer was riding him so hard? Did he take it personal or something?"

Forsberg shook his head, smiling. "Nah," he said as they plopped down into the bus next to each other. "Wasn’t that."

"Then what?" Drury asked. "Don’t leave me out here. I mean the guy was waving his arms and screaming, what the hell was wrong with him?"

Forsberg grimaced and then looked around the bus, checking to see if anyone was listening to him. No one was. He looked back at Chris. Should he tell him? Ah hell, Footer had probably already told Patty, and he knew how discreet Patty wasn’t so it was as good as out in the open.

"OK," he said leaning in to Chris and keeping his voice low. "Modano has gone over the deep end, he likes rear ends now."

Drury’s thick eyebrows knitted in surprise. "He’s gay?" Drury asked. "Wow...but what does that have to do with him chasing the bus like that?"

Forsberg looked around again and then looked back into Drury’s baby blue eyes.
"Modo is in love with the captain."

Drury’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "No shit!" Drury gasped. "Does Joe know?"

Forsberg shook his head. "Not really, I don’t think he does. All Joe really knows is that Modo has been acting weird. Footer took care of it, put the fear of God into him. So Modo won’t think about getting anywhere near Joe."

Drury shook his head, his nose half wrinkled in disgust. "That’s some screwed up shit," he said. "If some fruitie was lusting after me....well I’d kick his ass."

Forsberg smiled. "Yeah, the Footie way."

Drury leaned back and laughed. "Priceless!" he said. "Gosh, should we ever tell Joe? Or is that something he doesn’t need to know?"

Peter frowned. "Well," he said, "Joe’s a smart guy, I’m sure if he hasn’t figured it out yet, he will. He’ll live."

Drury nodded. "Yeah," he said, "Man, I wonder why Modo went nuts like that. Why would he think that Joe would care what he feels?"

"Dunno," Forsberg said, "Maybe he’s just insane."

Drury sighed and leaned back, slouching in his bus seat. "Damn," he said, "I want my game-boy."

Forsberg felt a lot better in the morning skate. Mostly because Kasper and Blakie were skating full contact, so it was nice to know that there was at least gonna be some better blue-line support for tomorrow night’s game. Muir was still nursing that swollen foot of his, that musta been some puck that hit him, he couldn’t remember what shot it was that did it. Kasper was whining about his bruised up chest, but he was good to go.

Patrick was being extra nice to Joe, chattering compliments to Sakic in French and English, and he even was calling one of his goal-posts Joey. Forsberg smiled when he saw Joe lean up against the boards to rest and Patrick was quick to nurse him with one of his own water bottles. Yup, Peter thought, Footer told him all right. Joe didn’t seem to mind, though, he just kept laughing and shaking his head.

They left the practice arena in a pleasant mood that morning. Forsberg liked the way he was shooting the puck, he liked the speed he was skating at. He liked the way he was hitting. It was going to be a good game tomorrow.

There was a crowd of rail-birds hopping outside of the arena when practice was done. There usually was. It was an assortment of cheery cheeked kids with favorite sticks or jerseys, Forsberg didn’t mind those kids. Shifty-eyed sports dealers, overweight with stacks of pictures and binders of cards in their hands, Forsberg couldn’t stand those. And women, there were lots of women. Mother’s dragging their uninterested five-year olds, hoping to get a player’s eye using their kids. Giggling teen girls, sweet as all hell but definitely illegal, and those dewy eyed puck bunnies, in shirts that left little to the imagination.

Forsberg wasn’t in the mood to sign autographs, and he hung back in the doorway of the arena surveying the crowd. He knew he just had to hang back and wait. Patrick Roy was just behind him, and Patty cheerfully pranced out of the doors. The rail-birds started their yapping, calling to Roy and begging for his signature. Roy turned to a boy and began to sign. The crowd swarmed Patty like he were honey, and Peter knew that Patty was gonna be there for awhile, everyone wanted an autograph.

"OK, boys," Forsberg yelled over his shoulder, "They got Patty we can get to the bus!"

The rest of the team darted out of the building to the bus, a few players were snagged by rail-birds but the majority of the team was able to plop down on their seats.

The schedule was pretty much free for the players for the rest of that day, and the majority of them dispersed for naps, movies, restaurants and golf-courses. Forsberg decided to lag back close to the hotel, he had seen a nice looking cafe and he found himself a table. He sighed as he looked at the menu provided him, a light meal, that’s what he was in the mood for, and then a long, long, nap. He wanted to relax today, get a lot of sleep, and then snarl for the game tomorrow.

"Uh, excuse me," an uncertain, feminine voice said to him. Forsberg looked up, it was his waitress, a bulky, sweet-faced woman. She was holding a small glass of something alcoholic on a tray for him. "The lady over there said she wanted to buy you a drink. Plum wine, it’s a house specialty. She would like to know your opinion of the drink."

Forsberg raised his eyebrows, looking at the amber colored wine, and then he looked around the restaurant until he found the lady in question. She was an absolutely stunning Mexican woman, she had a coy smile on her face and her eyebrows were raised as well. Forsberg stared at her red lips as he delicately picked up the wine from the tray and drained it in one gulp. It was incredibly sweet, and soft on his tongue. He immediately wished he hadn’t drank it so fast.

Peter smiled and placed the empty glass on the tray, his eyes scanning the no doubt exquisite body of the woman. She had long, glossy black hair and a lovely swan-like neck. Suddenly, he wasn’t sleepy and he wasn’t hungry.

Peter flipped the do-not-disturb sign on the hotel door, his roommate, Kasper was out somewhere if he came back early, then he would know that he wasn’t welcome back in. He had exchanged few words with the woman, they both knew what they wanted.

He was leading her to the bed and she yanked him back, gripping his neck tightly as she fell back against the wall, kissing him hard, and flashing his lower lip with her teeth. Forsberg laughed as she ran her hands up inside his shirt, her nails scraping delicately up his back. He had the goosebumps. "You’re a little rough," he said quietly, smiling.

The woman sighed and unzipped his fly, reaching in and grabbing him. Forsberg closed his eyes and and nipped her underneath her chin. "I know you’re looking for something different," she whispered.

Forsberg kissed her hard this time, determined to be the one to leave her gasping, her hand was still gripping him as his fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, even popping off a couple. He didn’t know if he could last until he actually got a good look at her and a condom out.The woman was giggling now, and coaxing him into her.......

Afterwards, Peter lay sprawled and relaxed on the bed, which had been barely used by the couple. He contented himself with watching the curvaceous, nut-brown woman as she calmly collected her clothes. She didn’t mind being watched like the other girls, and Peter took advantage of it. There were few things more beautiful in his eyes than a nude woman in movement, he loved the softness of them. He knew he must have been a painter in another life.

She looked straight into his eyes with her dark brown ones, he normally liked blue eyes on a woman, but her eyes were soft and playful, sexy. She sat on the bed next to him as she slipped her clothes back on, pulling her long black hair back into a twist.

"I have to go," she said.

Peter nodded, "Yeah....you’re wonderful."

The woman smiled and leaned forward, giving him a long, soft kiss. "You’re a sweet kid," she whispered, "I don’t remember telling you my name though."

Peter frowned. "I don’t think you did," he said.

The woman stood up, a confused look on her face. "My name is Josefina," she said, "You kept calling me Jo, that’s my nickname."

Ice water shot throughout Peter’s veins."I kept calling you Joe?" he asked.

Suddenly all he could see was the icy eyes of his captain.

The woman nodded and then shrugged. "It doesn’t matter, I must have told you my name. Adios."

Blowing him a quick kiss, Josefina whirled around and stalked out of the hotel room, grinning at Kasparaitis as the defenseman had just arrived at the door.

Kaspar watched her as she left, a silly grin on his face. He turned around and came in, smiling at Peter. "Who was that?" Kaspar asked, "She’s gorgeous! Like a gypsy goddess!"

Forsberg looked up miserably at Kaspar. "Her name was Jo!" he almost wailed.

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