“Just remembering a conversation I had the other day with my little granddaughter. Morgan. She asked me if I take my guys on field trips.” “No,” I say with dread. “And I said, why would I take them on field trips? They’re grown men, and they’re hockey players. They don’t need to go to the fucking zoo. Well, I didn’t say fuck. But I was thinking it,” he grumbles. His expression takes on a gleam that I really, really don’t like. “But talking to you, Lindley, has opened my eyes. Made me reconsider my entire stance on field trips.” “No,” I repeat, the dread twisting into horror. In a rare
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