Page 86 of Pucks and Coffee

“You know you can make it back. I did it, and you can too. Especially with Eliza and me in your corner.”

“I know,” I say softly.

“But?”

A smile pulls at my lips. He may be my coach, but he knows me like a father. One I wish I’d had growing up. Emotion is thick in my throat as I say, “I don’t know. We discussed us moving to Nashville and opening some shops here. Maybe even me coaching some hockey up here.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I don’t know yet.”

“How does Eliza feel about that?”

“She said she’ll do whatever I want.”

“Good lass,” he mumbles. “Listen, can I ask a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Give me a year.”

I laugh out loud at that. “A year, huh?”

“Yes, you should be pretty familiar with this proposition.” I scoff at that, and he continues, “But give me a year to get you where you need to be, once you get cleared to skate. I know I can get you back to the NHL, stronger and better than ever.”

I press my lips together and think it over. It’s only been three weeks, and I go back and forth about everything. Fuck, I miss the ice. I just want to go lie on it, but it’s not safe. Not yet, at least. The thought of hanging up my skates hurts, but the stress and pain I’m putting Eliza and myself through right now is a lot. If I stay in the sport, I could get hurt again. I don’t know if I want to go through this another time. I haven’t even gotten to the harder shit yet, and I’m just not sure.

“Let me think about it.”

“Hit me up at the new year with an answer, aye?”

“Yeah, for sure. Thanks, Coach.”

“No thanks needed. Merry Christmas, Katz.”

“Merry Christmas, Coach.”

I hang up and look down at the phone as his request plays over in my head. It’s still too early, though. I need to heal and keep my mind mentally strong. I’ve hired a really awesome hockey mental health coach, and I have time to decide. I could agree now and change my mind later on, and Coach wouldn’t fault me. He’d support me. I tuck Eliza’s phone in my chair beside her gift and wheel myself back into the organized chaos that is Christmas with a bunch of adults.

I don’t see my wife, though, and a moment of panic spikes until she wraps her arms around my shoulders. She kisses my cheek. “Everything okay?”

I nod as I pull her arms off and lead her around my chair before slowly lowering her into my lap, much to her protest. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“My lap isn’t broken,” I tell her, and then by her ear, I whisper, “You found that out not two hours ago.”

She snickers. “Keeping time?”

“Duh. I’m due for a repeat performance in another twenty minutes,” I say, and her laugh is like music.

From the couch, Clara says, “Ew.”

“Right? We need men so we can be distracted by our own guys and not hear them,” Elliot agrees, and Dan gives them both a look.

“No hockey players,” he practically begs.

Clara smiles sweetly. “Sorry, Peepaw. Hockey players are hot.”

The three McDavid sisters with hockey-player other halves all nod in agreement. He waves her off. “Then find one not on the Bears.”

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