Page 132 of Hockey Wife

A clinking sound echoed in the suddenly too-big space.

Her diamond ring lay on the tiled floor—and that’s when he knew it was truly over.

42

Why did some of the saddest days have to be the sunniest?

Georgia placed her sunglasses in her tote and took a seat a few rows back from Jim’s family. Though this wasn’t the church they used for Dani’s service, it smelled the same. Incense, perfume, and tears.

Jim had passed away a few days ago, a day after the Rebels won the first game away in Nashville, but before they lost the second. “Going out on a win,” Debbie had said, though she was crushed he wouldn’t get a chance to see them lift the Cup again.

There had been no sign of Banks on the game broadcasts in Nashville, though she knew he’d traveled with them. (The house was empty when she stopped by to pack up her clothes and Cheddar’s gear, for which the coward in her was grateful.) After Tara had assured Georgia that she didn’t tattle to her husband, she had told her that when a player was injured, they didn’t even sit on the bench or behind it. Instead they spent the game in the press box, which sounded awful. With all that media attention, how was a player supposed to move on? How could he grieve?

Because Georgia had no doubt that was what Dylan was doing now. Mourning his season and his career.

Debbie turned, then left her seat to come see her.

“What are you doing back here?” Before Georgia could offer an excuse, she touched her arm. “Come sit with the family.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. Dad would have wanted you there. We want you there.”

Georgia took her seat with the VIPs, kissed the cheeks of a couple of family members, and listened while Debbie filled her in on who was who. Her gaze arced over the flowers that practically covered the altar.

“There’s one shaped like a hockey stick.”

Debbie smiled. “From the Rebels. Nice of them, wasn’t it?”

“Very.” At Debbie’s raised eyebrow, Georgia quickly added, “And nothing to do with me.”

“Probably your husband. He called last week to ask if Jim wanted to attend the first home game of the series against Nashville. I told him he wouldn’t make it. It was so kind of him to think of us, though.”

Kind, but unsurprising. Her big guy had a big heart.

Debbie didn’t pry about why Banks wasn’t with her today, though the Rebels were playing at home tonight, and he was in town.

“Maybe you should take him up on the offer anyway. Jim would want you to go.”

She chuckled. “Probably, but I’m sure Banks has given them away to someone else. Everyone will want those tickets.”

“I’ll ask him.”

Debbie fussed a little but didn’t protest too much. She wanted to attend the game.

“Everyone is so generous. A new charity gave me this suit along with a personal shopper experience at Ann Taylor. Even had a car pick me up.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Yeah, there are caregiver support organizations, but they’re more geared towards home help or mental support. They usually consider anything like this as a luxury. Too extra.”

“These things are important, too. And that suit looks good on you. Very sharp. You could wear it at your new job.”

Debbie took her hand. “I’m so glad you came.”

Georgia wished she had her sunglasses on because her eyes felt a touch watery. “So am I.”

After the service, Debbie invited her back to the house for a celebration of Jim’s life. Once seated in her Mini, she sent a text to Banks:

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