Page 6 of Breaking the Ice

“You were great, Caleb. No false modesty, you're the star of the team - the driving force, if you will. Without you, the guys are nothing.” That's not true. Every single one of us is exceptional in their own way and damn good on the ice. But I suppose Carl is comparing me to himself. He sees his younger self in me. The version of him that got injured just before the playoffs thanks to that car accident. “You know what, let's drink to that. Anna!” He beckons to the housekeeper, who's just bringing in a roast. The lady is around sixty, with gray hair tied in a bun, and she's my favorite person in the house after Jess. Anna reminds me of my mom - even though she's ten years younger. The soft facial features, the gentle demeanor, and the melodious voice. Yes, she's like my mother.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Bring Caleb and me a whiskey.”

“Carl!” Veronika protests, her lips still tightly pursed. “You know very well you're not supposed to drink. Dr. Glenfield forbids it because of the medication.”

“Oh, good old Glenfield should relax, it's just a glass.”

“You're beyond redemption.”

“I know.” Flake shrugs and turns to Anna again. “Bring us two glasses. Chilled.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And Anna, take the thirty-year-old bottle, you know, the good stuff.” The housekeeper nods and leaves. “So, Caleb, a seven-to-one victory. Six of those goals were your doing. If that's not an impressive performance, I don't know what is.” I contemplate reminding him that five of those goals were thanks to Parker's perfect pass, but I refrain. Carl would downplay my buddy's contribution. To him, only what I, his ‘star’, achieved matters. That does have its benefits on one side - I'm paid better and enjoy luxuries that my teammates don't get - but it also has downsides like pressure to perform and players resenting my special treatment. It creates chaos within the team.

“Today's game went pretty well,” I say, as he waits for my response.

“Well? It was amazing!” He energetically slams his fist on the table. Before he can launch into more praise, Anna appears and brings our drinks. “So, here's to you, Caleb. And to the championship.”

“To the championship,” I say, and my boss clinks glasses with me so enthusiastically that the ice cubes in our glasses tinkle.

“Oh, one more thing...” Carl takes a sip and sets the whiskey aside. “As you know, we've got two new massage therapists. Maxwell Tade and his daughter Emma.”

“What?” Jess interjects into our conversation. “Another woman? I thought the team was only getting men from now on, because they're easier to deal with and tougher.”

“That was the original plan, my dear. But Bill changed his mind. Why do you ask? Does it bother you?”

“What? No, I couldn't care less! But she's going to be a poor thing surrounded by all those testosterone-laden apes. Let's hope the players don't drive her away like they did with the previous female masseuses.” I shift my gaze to my girlfriend, seeing a muscle twitch on her cheek. She's not concerned for a second about the masseuse or the players misbehaving. No, Jess simply doesn't like the idea of another woman touching me.

“Anyway, Caleb, I wish for you to avail yourself of their services, daily. The same goes for Parker and Durand. But I've already discussed that with them.” Carl's statement elicits a snort from my girlfriend. I quickly put my hand on her thigh to calm her down, though it doesn't work.

“Dad, daily treatments are totally excessive,” she hisses.

“No, not at all.” Flake looks at his daughter with a stern expression. "We're on the verge of the playoffs, and Caleb is our top player. We can't risk strains or muscle tears, so I insist on the massages. You'll have to come to terms with it.” That was clear. Carl won't tolerate any objections, as Jess understands. With a face flushed in anger, she glares at her old man. She's used to getting what she wants. But in this case, her father remains firm. He ignores her irritation and turns back to me. “I don't care whether you get the massage before or after practice. Do what suits you.”

“But I'm in top shape, I'm fine,” I counter.

“And it needs to stay that way. That's why I demand you get daily treatment.” I can already see he won't negotiate on this matter. So, I nod, even if it means I'll have a moody girlfriend for the foreseeable future. For the second time today, I'm annoyed by our new masseuse.

“Can we finally start eating, or do you plan on discussing your hobby even longer?” Veronika snarks from the other end of the table, looking at her husband in exasperation. Her face is stony, lines of tension between her eyebrows and around her mouth. She could be a beautiful woman if she weren't so perpetually disgruntled. Like Jessica, she has delicate features, a small nose, and full, natural blond hair. Her slender figure and small breasts also resemble her daughter's. Only Jess inherited her blue eyes from her dad.

“Alright, alright,” Carl concedes, giving the cranky woman a sympathetic smile. “Enough talk about the team.”

Dinner is like every meal at the Flake house. Exhausting. Veronika poisons the atmosphere with her foul mood, which everyone else ignores. The roast is fantastic, the cornbread, the sauces, and the vegetables are delicious. Nevertheless, my appetite wanes whenever I'm near this woman. Conversation is kept to a minimum because Veronika clears her throat every time someone starts to talk. A damn three quarters of an hour later, it's finally over. All courses have been served, everyone is full. Jessica and I express our thanks and make our exit. As we make our way upstairs to her room, I vow never to subject myself to another meal with the Flakes. In fact, I have no desire to be here at all. Whether Jess likes it or not, we'll spend the coming weeks exclusively at my place. I don't need to endure this crap. At least my girlfriend has calmed down, in the meantime. Good food works wonders on her.

“Hey, baby,” she coos, leading me into her bedroom, “my butt is still all sticky from earlier. What do you say we hop into the shower together?”

“No thanks, I'll pass.” The words come out harsher than I intended. I'm still irritated. “Sorry,” I say conciliatorily because Jess isn't to blame. She didn't choose her mom. “What if you take a quick shower and then we head to the Brilliant for a bit?”

“No, I don't want to go to a club.” The accurate phrasing would be: I don't want to go to that club. It's our team's favorite club - it's open every day except Mondays. Jess doesn't want to go to the Brilliant because she'll have to share me with the guys, that's clear. “How about a movie?” she suggests instead. Sliding my hands into my pockets, I shrug.

“Sure, why not.” I'm fine with anything as long as I get out of here.

“Great. There's this incredibly heart-wrenching romance movie I've been wanting to see!” Fantastic. Jess claps her hands in excitement, gives me a quick peck on the corner of my mouth, and heads into the bathroom attached to her room. “I'll be quick!” I hear her call out, and the next moment, the water starts running.

“Take your time,” I grumble, sitting on her bed and taking out my phone. To pass the time, I check my emails, Facebook, and Instagram. As usual, Jess takes forever. After half an hour, I start getting impatient and begin pacing around the room. I stop in front of her vanity mirror because I notice a photo of us. It shows us in front of my parents' house in Two Rivers, Wisconsin. Instantly, guilt washes over me. I reach for the picture frame to take a closer look at the photo. It was taken in spring, capturing a grinning Jessica leaning into me. My arm is casually draped over her shoulders, and the smile on my face is forced. Man, I was such an asshole. If Jessica knew that I originally added her on Facebook just because of her dad, she'd flip. But that's exactly what happened. I had learned that millionaire Carl Flake was on the hunt for hockey talents for his newly acquired team, the Portland Devils. I've been playing ice hockey since I was seven, and I love the sport. When I saw the article in the newspaper, I saw it as the chance of a lifetime. I was always a natural on the ice, but my problem was that I had never played in a higher league than our crappy school team. If I had just applied to Flake directly, he probably wouldn't have given me a second glance. So, I was convinced that I could win him over if I just had the opportunity to audition for him and demonstrate my skills. That's where Jessica came in. I messaged her, orchestrated a rapid infatuation, and visited her in Portland. A week later, the Devils provided me with an apartment and a car. Two weeks later, I helped the team achieve their first victory and was subsequently hailed as the new star forward. Half a year has passed since then, and much has happened. I've proven myself multiple times, taken the team far. Out of gratitude, I gave Jess a chance and didn't cast her aside once I achieved my goal. Somehow, I couldn't bring myself to do that. She was head over heels for me, so I gave it a shot. And wouldn't you know it, she grew on me. I'm aware that she's not the love of my life, nor will she be the mother of my children. But she's a good person, and she'll probably be by my side for a while longer.

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