Page 94 of Defensive Zone

Chapter 17

“You’re here,” Maggie said as they walked into the oncology wing at Children’s Hospital the following afternoon. Max and his teammates always tried to make it to as many wings as possible, but they couldn’t leave without visiting this floor.

“We are,” Westie said, leaning down to kiss his girlfriend.

“Oh my god, of course you’re the bunny,” Avery, one of the doctors on the floor, said.

Max gave a quick spin. “I’m dashing, aren’t I?”

Maggie laughed. “You’re something. Now put your head on so you don’t scare the kids with that beard.”

“Such a strange statement. They love my beard,” he said before he popped the bunny head on. It wouldn’t take long for the suit and head to become hot as hell, but he didn’t mind. The kids on this floor were going through much worse. He could survive sweating for an hour or two.

He loved hospital visits, loved putting a smile on the kids’ faces with his antics, which is why he always took it up a notch when he was here. He left his fake teeth at home so he could have a toothless grin like a lot of the kids, and he volunteered for every visit. It was the least he could do. He also made substantial donations to the hospital every year and he’d donated his entire paycheck from the beard balm ads he’d done this year and last year. It would never be enough, but he wanted to help.

So bunny suit or princess dress—he was in.

Gabi had shaken her head at him when he’d walked into the kitchen in his bunny suit. He’d winked and then snuck his hand under the edge of her shirt to trace the small of her back. He loved every shudder that had rolled through her. He couldn’t wait for his parents to leave in a few days. Then she was his.

“Let’s go,” Westie said, pulling Max back to the present.

“Should I hop?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Harty said.

They made their way through the rooms, handing out chocolate-filled eggs and Strikers gear to the kids. They took pictures and made sure to spend at least a few minutes in each room they were allowed to go into.

“It’s Baz under there, isn’t it,” Brent, a ten-year-old who’d been in and out of the hospital for three years, said. Max had spent a good deal of time with the smart-ass kid, and while he wished it wasn’t in this setting, he was happy to see him. The kid was no-nonsense and full of jokes.

Just like Max.

“I’m the Easter Bunny,” Max said, keeping his head on.

The kid rolled his eyes. “Your beard is poking out of the bottom of the bunny head. That thing should be wrapped up in a net or something. It’s not sanitary.”

Harty laughed. “He’s got you there.”

Max chuckled and took off the head. “I’m glad you called me out; it was getting way too hot under there,” he said, fluffing out his beard with his gloved bunny hands.

“No one else could be the bunny?” Brent asked.

“Like I’d let them. I’m the best at being in costume, you know that,” he said, crouching down next to the bed. “How’s it going, mister man?”

“Ah, it sucks, but I’m feeling a lot better and Doc says I could be home in the next week,” the kid said.

He’d been battling bone cancer that had come back more than once.

“Awesome. Just in time to come see us kick ass in the playoffs,” Max said.

“Baz,” Westie admonished.

“Oops. Sorry. Kick some behind,” he said, shooting Brent a wink.

“Kick some tail,” Brent said, winking back.

It was great to see Brent in high spirits. It made Max optimistic, and he hoped that this would be the last time he saw the kid at the hospital.

“Bet you’re ready to get out of that thing,” Harty said as they walked toward the elevator after visiting all of the kids.

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