Page 31 of Slap Shots & Sweethearts

When the song is finally over, Lou and I hand our mics back to the sound guys.

"My mic stopped working." Lou complains.

With a straight face the sound guy says, "Must be the battery."

Lou's eyes narrow. "Happens a lot when I'm up there."

I put an arm around Lou's shoulders. "That's what you get for going first. You get to test the mics."

The sound guy dips his head down, but I can see the smirk on his face.

"Let the guy put a new battery in. Let's get a smoothie."

Steering Lou to the smoothie bar is much easier now that he's had his time up on stage. For the rest of the night as I enjoy the strawberry banana smoothie in my hand I keep an eye out for Hannah. But she never arrives.

Chapter 10

Hannah

Lou and I fly home two days early to see our family. The rest of the hockey team will fly in tomorrow so they aren't jet lagged for the game this weekend. As I walk through the front door of my childhood home, memories flood back. I put my suitcase in my old room, which no longer has the posters that adorned the walls when I was in high school. Instead, Mom's turned part of the room into an office. My old bed is shoved up against one wall, the dresser is still under the window, and office stuff takes up half of the room. It feels bittersweet, to see how things have changed. I put my suitcase at the foot of the bed and go back downstairs.

Mom has a spread of Lou’s and my favorite foods when we get there, including her signature potato salad. The kitchen smells like home, a mix of roasted chicken, fresh salad, and baked bread. I snap a few quick photos for Lou's hometown story before we all sit down to eat. The look on Mom's face is so happy as she watches Lou fill his plate and devour it. There are more lines on her face, and gray in her hair, than I remember her having. Dad's talking hockey stats with Lou and giving him pointers on what he's watched the hometown team do. Dad's wearing a shirt with the home team's logo on it, but doesn't hesitate to tell Lou about their weak spots as we eat. He might be a fan of the home team Lou is playing against this weekend, but for Dad, his kids always come first. The warmth of their conversation fills the room, a comforting hum of family connection.

Missy and her husband Gabe arrive just as we're finishing lunch. Missy looks like a perfectly cute pregnant lady. Her blond hair is framing her face in soft spiral curls, and her baby bump is complemented by the beige soft knit sweater she's wearing with dark wash jeans. Her husband Gabe looks giddy as he holds a hand to her stomach to feel the baby kick. Gabe is only a few inches taller than Missy and looks like the everyday accountant that he is in his kakis and white polo.

I've lost my appetite and start picking up my dishes to put away. The sight of them so happy together makes my chest tighten with a mix of happiness for her and envy for myself. The others must decide they're done too, and it only takes five minutes to get all the food packed away and dishes loaded into the dishwasher.

Dad takes Lou out for some male bonding with Missy's husband, while Mom has plans for us ladies to go look at baby stuff for the party tomorrow. As we drive to the store, I try to shake off the lingering sadness, focusing instead on the excitement in Mom and Missy's voices.

The first store we go to has furniture to look at. The store is bright and filled with expectant parents and grandparents, their voices a low hum of anticipation. "If our baby is a boy, we want a zoo theme," Missy tells me. "If it's a girl, we're thinking more floral decorations in pinks and purples." Mom gushes over the ideas and we try to find a crib that would work for either theme. Missy settles on a weathered white color and we add it to her registry. Even though the party is tomorrow, Missy's in-laws are planning another shower for next month.

We have moved onto the strollers when Missy spots people she knows. "Oh look," Missy says, "It's Grace and Ethan." My heart skips a beat. Grace's belly is big enough that it looks like she's due any day, and she's laughing at something Ethan says.

Mom whispers to me, "Grace is in Missy's prenatal yoga class."

Missy starts towards them and Grace smiles when she spots my sister. Ethan, on the other hand, only has eyes for his wife as it should be. But I see the recognition in his eyes when he sees me. We haven't had a conversation since he dumped me two days before prom to take Grace instead. I'd spent the weekend crying and baking so many cookies Mom started handing them out to the neighbors. From what I'd been told, Lou dumped the punch bowl all over Ethan at the dance because of it.

Ethan gives my mother and me a polite hello as Missy and Grace chat. "It's been a while," he tells me. "How are you?"

"Fine. You?" I ask, even though it's so awkward. The words feel heavy, like lead in my mouth.

Luckily for both of us, Mom bridges it and asks Ethan about strollers instead. He tells her all about the double stroller they're considering for their twins and I die a little more inside. The unfairness of it stings, and I find myself fighting back the bitterness.

Missy and Grace finish their chat, and I hear Missy invite her to the party tomorrow. We all part ways shortly after.

"I'm so glad I ran into her," Missy tells us as we head to the next store. "Her invitation must have been lost in the mail."

Mom gives an mhmm and I know she knows the real reason the invitation was lost. Lou got his overprotectiveness from her. The rest of the shopping trip is a blur as I try to focus on helping Missy pick out baby clothes and decorations. Despite my best efforts, my thoughts keep drifting back to Ethan and the life he's building with Grace, a life I once thought I might have had.

The next morning after breakfast I spend two hours with Lou in some of our childhood spots. His hometown highlight is all typed up, it just needs photos before it goes live. I plan on posting it before Missy’s party later. The familiar humid morning air is cold and cuts through my coat, much like it did growing up. As we drive from one spot to another, taking photos and videos for his spotlight, nostalgia hits hard.

We wind up at the local rink where Lou's love for hockey all started. I managed to talk the owner into letting us have an hour on the ice without the public. As the rink is mostly used by kids, and it's a school day, he agreed to my request in exchange for the publicity.

Lou pulls two sticks out of the back of the car along with a puck, and my old pink skates. I smile as I take the skates from him.

"What're the stakes?" I ask as we walk into the rink, the smell of ice and the rubber flooring bringing back memories.

Lifting the puck up, Lou has a mischievous glint in his eyes as he suggests, "Loser has to clean my apartment."

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