Chapter 194: Joey VI

A/N: Richard Vigneault does not exist, I’m not sure if I made that clear earlier.

 

Chapter 194: Joey VI—Favors

 

            Joe saw it all over the Montreal news once they had returned to the hotel. He had successfully dodged a lot of reporters, was kind of interested in why there was so many of them, and then when he flipped on the television, he saw what the mess was all about. The late afternoon news was on, and the top story was of Patrick in a verbal argument with a reporter whom the Montreal news was calling “one of the most respected sports journalists in the province.” The entire thing was caught on camera as was the verbal argument the two had going all the way to the practice ice.

            Joe shook his head. “I guess this isn’t Patty’s week is it?”

            “There full moon out,” Alex said in a subdued voice. “Maybe that’s it.”

            Joe grinned and looked at Alex. “You saying the moon makes Patty go rabid?”

            Alex shook his head, no humor in his face, “No, I mean Michele, she say that when full moon out he kinda gets emotional.”

            Joe raised his eyebrows and looked back at the TV, at Vigneault as the old man was red cheeked and blustering, complaining that something should be done about Patrick’s reckless lifestyle. Joe frowned and thought of that, roadtrips usually found Patty sleeping or watching game tapes over and over again. Every now and then he took advantage of a hooker, but not often, and he had never even heard of Patty ever messing with a groupie or a mistress… Okay, he drank too much sometimes, but what hockey player didn’t?

            “Emotional?” Joe said. “Really? Hehe when was the last full moon?”

            Alex shrugged. “Don’t know.”

            Joe nodded. “So Patty gets PMS…. Interesting…”

            “Ooo!” Tangers huffed in a very insulted voice, “Joe!”

            Joe smiled. “Eh just forget about it, Tiger. These things always blow over with Patty, he just likes having all the attention on himself whenever we come back to Montreal. It gets a better game outta him I suspect and it just keeps us a part of something odd, just so we have interesting stories to tell the grandkids. Hey, what about you?”

            Alex raised his eyebrows, his mouth open in that perpetual “O” shape. “What? I don’t get the PMS… I mean… ARGH!”

            Joe laughed. “No, not that.  I mean have you figured out what you want for your, “favor?” Or are ya still thinking about it? What are you wanting, a fine Rolex, a rare car, Cubans, a real ivory handled knife, a real ivory anything, a leopard skin rug, a tennis lesson from that blond kid, all the gifts that helping out Fedorov can land you? It’s a big decision.”

            Alex swallowed hard, blinking with a boy’s eyes. Joe never actually thought that the kid would last long on the team when he had first joined them in training camp. Soft as butter, naïve, it all signaled for someone who would wash out. He was pleased to see that the kid kept his sensitive, decent sensibilities but at the same time showed real signs of being a top tier hockey player. It was a rare breed to be like that.

            “Have you ever had a.. a.. favor?” Alex asked.

            Joe nodded, felt a grin on his lips when the kid’s eyes widened.

            “When?” he asked. “How? What did you get?”

            Joe sighed, “I had one favor, Goose, he’s the one who granted it to me. I used it on Patty.”

            “To Patty?” Tangers exclaimed, “What did you get him?”

            Joe thought about it for a bit, thought about not saying it, decided it couldn’t harm anything and he grinned. “A get out of jail free card.”

            Tangers frowned and then the realization hit him. “You mean…”

            Joe nodded. “Michele came to me about a month after he was arrested, she was crying and told me pretty much what you told me, that Patty hadn’t laid a hand on her and it would just ruin the kids’ lives if he was convicted or had to plea for anything. So Goose helped me out, helped… well he just used some contacts to ease the legal pressure a little bit, nothing drastic, no dead fish on doorsteps or anything like that.”

            “You can do that?” Tangers whispered. “I mean… isn’t that..”

            Joe shrugged, delighted at how naïve the kid was, how willing to believe him. “Sure, why not. A favor is a favor.”

            Alex swallowed loudly, hugged a pillow to his body. “You mean I could… do something like that? Ask for anything.”

            “Sure, why not?” Joe said. “It’s your favor you know.”

            “So does that mean Patty owes you a big favor?” Alex whispered as if someone were listening in on the room.

            Joe resisted the urge to just bust a gut laughing and he nodded with as sober a face as he could muster. “Of course! Nothing is for free in this world, but really the favor was not for Patty so much as it was for Michele. So she’s the one who… “owed” me.”

            Tanguay actually gasped and pressed his fingers to his mouth like a startled girl would, “Joe?” he asked.

            Joe nodded. “Yup I collected on her.. BIG time!”

            Tangers shook his head. “Nooo! NO! Not like that!!”

            Joey grinned, nodded, liked the thought of being bad, suddenly thought of Debbie and Michele, in each others arms, who would have thought… “You better believe it, she was the most “grateful” woman I have ever had the pleasure of having in my bed….”

            “OOOO!” Tangers growled and Joe died laughing as the kid threw a pillow at his head and it bounced harmlessly onto the carpet. “I actually believed you!! That’s just mean! Mimi would never do something like that and neither would you! Even if it was for Patty! Humph!”

            Joe doubled forward, held onto his gut which was aching with laughter, he could hear Alex giggle, then the giggles turned into laughter. Joe looked at him, wiped at his face. “Don’t be so gullible kid, it could get your heart broken someday. Hehe, but I’m sure you could have anything you wanted, just put some thought into it.”

            Tangers grinned. “Okay Joe,” he said.

 

            Joe could feel it in the air as soon as he entered the locker room with the rest of the team. It was the heavy, overheated, humid pressure of Patty’s discontent. Now what? Joe looked at Patty, saw the corners of his mouth turned down, tired, careworn lines on his face, an actual streak of gray at the hair around his temples. Patty was looking at a mask, a white, gleaming, goalie mask that he used during practice sometimes.

            “What’s up?” Joe asked.

            Patty looked at him, large luminous eyes. “I broke the mask, smelled like octopus anyway.”

            Joe wrinkled his brow. “What about the painted mask you used this morning? That was your back up wasn’t it?”

            Patty shrugged. “I don’t like it. It hurt my head and scratched too much. This one is more comfortable. I will send it to get painted sometime I suppose.”

            “So you’re going to play in that mask?” Eric Messier asked, “It’s not even painted!”

            Patty shrugged. “But it’s comfortable.”

            Joe patted him on the back, “Whatever makes you happy, we’re fine with it.”