Page 4 of Taylor

He was supposed to go home for Christmas. They would go to church on Christmas Eve. Come home, get a new book and Christmas pajamas, then wake up to a Christmas breakfast and presents under the tree. It was what they had done every year since he was a child. He loved the tradition—that, he knew what to expect. But above all, now that he was an adult, he loved the relaxation.

Being a professional hockey player with autism, he scheduled his down time and protected it fiercely because, during the season, he walked a balance of playing the game he loved and was good at and trying to take care of his sensory needs. Disney... That sounded like a sensorial nightmare.

“Disney . . .”

“Honey, it might not be that bad.”

“It’s fucking Disney . . .”

“I know. It’d mean a lot to Mitch if you came.”

Giving a deep sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay, call me when you know what’s going on.”

This was too much... too much to deal with in a loud airport. He was supposed to be boarding, getting ready to fly home to theairport he’d flown into countless times, then being picked up by his mom. They would drive through and get a donut and a cup of coffee on their way home. Then he would shower, go to his room, and decompress from his trip. But he was sitting in a loud, busy airport in Minneapolis with people whose flights had all been canceled.

The man next to him coughed, and Taylor could almost feel the germs. The sense of overwhelm was creeping in. He needed to get somewhere quiet, if that was even possible in the MSP airport two days before Christmas. One thing was for sure, he would not be going to Disney... Part of him felt bad because he didn’t want to disappoint his mom, but pushing himself like that only led to burnout and meltdowns.

He made his way down to a coffee shop with open tables. He would order a coffee and a donut and figure out things from there.

“Can I have a small black coffee and a glazed donut?”

“Coming right up,” said the woman behind the counter.

“Excuse me, ye look a bit familiar to me,” a woman with a Scottish brogue said from behind him.

While NHL players didn’t get recognized in the States as much as other athletes did, he was in Minnesota. If it were to happen anywhere, it would happen here.

He turned with his trained publicity smile to greet the fan, but instead, he was greeted by a small, round Scottish woman with wild red hair. She did look familiar, but he was having trouble placing her.

“You do look familiar?”

“That’ll be twelve dollars,” said the cashier.

Turning back, he paid the cashier and stepped aside to let the woman order. He left for a table in the blessed quiet coffee shop to figure out his next travel step, hating this. He wiped the tablewith his napkin as best he could before reaching into his bag and squirting hand sanitizer in his palms.

“I remember. Ye’re one of those hockey players, eh?”

He looked up at the same woman standing next to his table.

“I think I met ye when I was reading fortunes at the gala for yer team back in April.”

“Yes,” he said, happy to finally have it figured out. “I remember you. How are you doing?”

“Oh, ye know, I can’t complain. Trying to get back to New York, but my flight is canceled, so maybe I can complain,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Mine too,” he said before sipping from his too-hot coffee.

“That man looks familiar as well. Isn’t that yer coach?”

Taylor turned his head to the direction the woman was looking, and sure enough, there was his coach.

The woman waved, and Coach Wagner started his way over to them.

“Your flight got canceled too, huh?” he said, sitting at the table with Taylor.

“It did.”

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