In a surprise move, the Gliders also picked up Sebastian Kristiansen on waivers from the New York Rangers. It’s a bold but practical move. Atlanta needs the muscle to protect its young guys, and Kristiansen comes with extensive playoff experience that will benefit the team long term.
The Gliders officially kick off the regular season when they face division rival the Hurricanes at the Triada Center on Tuesday, October 7that 7 p.m.
Comments (79)
HckyMom4Life:Not even McGinnis can save this team. We’re screwed.
GlidersGlazer:Our D is as soft as our mascot! Maybe if they’d step up, we could win some games. Can’t expect St. James to do it all. He’s one fuckin guy.
StnlyTroll:Kristiansen is a GOON! Send his ass back to NY where it belongs.
Bunnieinblue69:McGinnis can glaze my five-hole any time…
NHLXpert:Should’ve sent Hardy down. He’s a douche and he SUCKS!
8
AVA
Quit beinga coward and knock already.
I can’t, I’m not ready. Anxiety has me in a chokehold as I stand on the porch of my father’s McMansion, listening to the endless buzz of the cicadas.
It’s just dinner.
It’s neverjustdinner. Tonight is no exception.
I glance down at my romper, suddenly feeling underdressed.
Rompers are the perfect all-occasion wardrobe staple.
Yeah, well, I sincerely doubt he’s up to date on women’s fashion trends.
I clutch the bottle of wine in my hands and gather my courage.
You could just go in.
No way. He gave me the whole “My house is your house” speech when he invited me over, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. We may share genetic material, but I barely know the man.
Which is why you’re here. To get to know him.
True, but I didn’t think it would be this weird.
I should’ve suggested we eat at a restaurant—at least then we could have people watched—but he insisted on cooking for me.
It’ll be over in a few hours, and then you can go back to your townhouse and overthink.
Darn right, because what even is the protocol for dinner with your absent father when you’re a grown woman?
Okay, fine. Technically, he wasn’t absent. He would’ve had to know I existed to be absent.
I tighten my grip on the bottle. It’s a mid-range pinot noir that’s supposed to pair with just about anything, but what if he’s not a wine drinker?
I knew I should’ve gotten a six-pack, but there were so many stinking options.
The door opens unexpectedly, and there he is: Adam Carlyle—my father.
“Ava.” He smiles broadly and waves me in. “Did you find the place okay?”