Page 77 of Geeky Pucking Orc

“With your appreciation of her artwork, with you taking a third bowl of the chili, with your insistence on helping with the dishes. And the ham,” Abby added with a laugh. “You know she’s probably calling her friends right now, telling them that her daughter’s boyfriend brought her a giant country ham.”

“Do you think she will really get me one of the dogs playing cards paintings?” I asked. “I was going to buy one, but I don’t want to ruin a gift surprise.”

“Oh, you’re going to get one for Christmas. Hopefully it won’t be quite as big as the one she has.”

“I hope it’s bigger.” I was teasing, although I would not have minded an extra-large painting.

Abby shot me a horrified glance but didn’t say anything. We rode in silence until we pulled off the highway and into the city.

“My apartment or yours?” Abby asked.

“Do you have clothing for tomorrow? If not, we can stay at yours.” I hadn’t wanted to assume, but we’d been spending far more nights together than apart. And I liked that a lot.

“We’ll need to grab breakfast on the way in. I think I only have a bottle of ketchup and a few soda waters in my fridge. The bread can probably vote it’s so old.”

I’d grown to love making Abby breakfast in the mornings. Tomorrow I would order groceries to ensure she had enough food in her kitchen for that to happen when we stayed at her apartment. It all made me think of how I wished we lived together, that we were married. I didn’t want Abby to feel as if I were pressuring her into a commitment, but just as I needed her mother to know I could provide for her daughter, I wanted Abby to know the sort of life I wanted to give her.

“Orc males build a home as a wedding gift for their brides,” I said. “When an orc is seeking a wife, he begins to build the house, but there is much that remains unfinished because the house should reflect the likes and style of the female he is wooing.”

“Homes are so expensive here. A couple typically rents and saves up money after they’re married, then they pick out the house together,” she replied. “Human men purchase an engagement ring for the woman they want to marry. Usually it’s a diamond, but sometimes it’s a different stone if the woman prefers something different.”

I nodded. “I have read about this engagement ring and this human custom. Among orcs, jewelry can sometimes be a gift if the giver is an artist, but rings and bracelets and necklaces are not often given during wooing or as a wedding present.”

“I always thought it was weird that men would give the woman a ring, but women don’t buy anything for the men,” Abby said. “They should get a ring too. Do the female orcs give something to the male? I guess building him a house wouldn’t work, unless orc couples don’t live together after marriage.”

“During wooing, the female shows her approval by cooking or providing the male with food.” I glanced over at her. “We are a very food-focused culture. Providing food acknowledges a relationship, whether it is family, friendship, or romantic interest. It isn’t just a way to show you are a good provider, it shows how important the other’s life is that you prioritize their needs.”

She smiled. “We’re the same way. Human dating rituals revolve around food, and cooking for someone is also a way to acknowledge your feelings about the relationship. But do orc females give gifts? Is there the equivalent of an engagement ring or engagement house?”

“Yes, but it depends on the female. Some will hand-make an item of clothing for a male they want to encourage romantically. If she is skilled at hunting and tanning, she may gift him with furs for their bed. My mother carved an ornate wooden platter for my father. Every meal was served on it. When we traveled, my father would carefully wrap it and carry it in his personal bag. Even when we were only eating dried meat and fruit while camping in the middle of the woods, we would use it.”

“That’s so romantic.” Abby’s voice was wistful and I found myself wondering what I could possibly gift her when I offered marriage. A ring as was human custom, yes. But there was not much opportunity to build a house in the city. I doubted buying one would have the same impact. But what? I didn’t have the skills in carving of my parents. What did I have to offer besides myself and purchased items? What item would show how I truly felt?

The next morning I rose early to bring breakfast back to Abby’s apartment. While I was waiting for her to prepare for the day, I searched my phone for ideas. Most of the suggestions were jewelry, but Abby seemed to wear the same basic earrings and bracelet every day. She’d never shown any interest in gems, so beyond the symbolic engagement ring, I did not think jewelry would make a good gift. We were already planning the trip to Spain, and I hoped travel would be a significant part of our lives. I’d written home last week asking my parents to send something that would show their approval of our match until they were able to meet Abby in person.

I was going to propose, but what to give her? Reluctantly I turned to the real estate listings. And the perfect gift immediately appeared on my screen. Glancing back to ensure Abby was still in the bathroom, I made a phone call.

“Hello. I want to buy the condo you have listed for sale with the large porch. Yes, the one on the nineteenth floor. No, I do not need to see it first. Please tell me when and where I should go to sign your contracts and bring you the money.”

The rest of the day was full of chaotic activity. I could hardly concentrate during our workout and practice. There had been so many phone calls and texts and emails, and I would need to rush to get everything completed by this evening.

When Coach Rencovitch called me into his office, I was surprised. Was this about my inattention at practice?

“I am very sorry I missed the puck three times this morning,” I blurted out before we even sat down. “I am going to ask Abby Anton to marry me so there are many things on my mind besides hockey. I promise to do better at our next practice.”

“I hope so, Bwat.” Coach Rencovitch sat and straightened the papers on his desk. “You played well on Friday. I need to know that wasn’t a one-off occurrence.”

“No sir. I have been working on my puck handling and my skating. I’ve been studying the formations and strategy of the enemy teams. I am determined to be the best defender and safeguard our goal.”

He nodded. “I was pleased to see that you managed to use physical force and intimidation during the game without resorting to illegal hits–whether accidental or not.”

“I am still not sure what the difference is between a legal and illegal contact,” I admitted. “But I will study that and try to stay out of the penalty box.”

The coach shook his finger at me. “Don’t try too hard. There are times when it’s good strategy to make the illegal hit and go to the box. Just make sure the benefits outweigh the risks of facing a power play.”

“Yes, sir.” I had no idea what that sort of strategy might be, but it was something I could research and perhaps ask Dylan to explain.

“Based on your performance Friday night, I made the recommendation to our owner that you remain on the team. He’s agreed to let you stay for the rest of the season, and if your performance continues to improve, you will absolutely have a position with the Tusks next year.”