Page 17 of Grace on the Rocks

“-the fighting is just getting completely out of hand. If Henry Wayne doesn’t get a hold of the team, I wouldn’t be surprised to see an increase in injuries at the start of the season, and that’s not going to go over well with the team. There’s already a chance that Thorpe might not be back for the season – even if he isn’t arrested or is found not guilty, there’s his reputation to take into account, and not only that, but he might decide not to resign with the Gulls and get traded to another team – and if Alec Schumacher keeps fighting – you saw that cut on his forehead. I have no idea why he didn’t bandage that up, even if it was received a few minutes before the game ended – he might get some serious damage done, and if we lose him, our first line takes a hit. Plus, Kyle Underwood – he’s a beast on the ice – but he’s also an instigator, ready to get into the heads of the other team. Which is fine, a good tactic. But he’s that type of guy – like Alec – who can say the wrong thing at the wrong time and piss people off. And the crazy part is that the refs are actually letting them fight which” –

Yup, he was still on a roll. At least they were on the PCH now. Now, it would probably take twenty minutes, if that, to get home. Emma felt herself yawn and she sank deeper into the passenger seat. Even though she was determined to work out the last few hits of the routine, she was exhausted. School had barely started and she could already feel her summer social life slip away from her. It was her last year though, so in a way, she figured that perhaps this last push would be worth it.

Since she had listed everything she wanted to fix in terms of dancing, she felt her mind drift away to something else: Kyle Underwood.

They decided they would be friends. She knew it was the best thing. Both of them were busy with their own thing and both didn’t really have incredibly positive things to say about love and relationships, so it made sense. She was glad there was no pressure on her to impress Kyle Underwood, as a potential girlfriend. There was no need to be perfect, no need to try too hard. She could just be herself around him, her goofy, slightly anal, and naively optimistic self.

Except, it would be harder to do whenever he smiled at her the way he had when they locked eyes on the ice. Even though she told her heart that the connection they had between them was completely platonic, her heart jumped at the sight of him. Forgot to beat. And the butterflies in her stomach amassed to rocks being thrown into its walls.

No, she didn’t want a relationship – with him or with anyone – but she did feel something different. And she didn’t know what that was.

“Okay, time to stop that,” she murmured to herself under her breath.

“What was that?” Jeremy asked, stopping in midsentence to address his daughter.

“Um...” She pressed her lips together before coming up with something quick. “Why won’t the refs stop the fight, exactly?”

Nice save, Winsor.

“The only time, really, that the refs let fights go on is when they feel that there’s a lot of tension between the team,” Jeremy explain. “The fighting might alleviate that tension. But it never happens during preseason. Never. Sure, fights break out, little scraps here and there, but nothing as big as what’s been going on here, and if it did turn into what we’ve been seeing, the refs are normally really good at breaking it off. I have no idea why they continue to let the players fight, but if any of our guys aren’t able to play at the beginning of our season, I will be livid. I would even be tempted to consider bringing a lawsuit against the league about it.”

At the last statement, Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Her father could get a little carried away. Yes, it was rare, but there was a lot going on in her father’s life, that perhaps he needed to relieve the tension by attacking an innocent bystander like the National Hockey League. Although, Emma couldn’t help but agree that the refs needed to step up and prevent the players from hurting each other.

“But I thought that’s what hockey is about,” Emma pointed out, turning to look at Jeremy’s profile. “The fighting and kicking ass and stuff.”

“That’s an added benefit, don’t get me wrong,” Jeremy agreed. “What other sport, besides actual fighting sports, do you get this kind of violence? None. But hockey is more than that. It’s the fastest team sport ever played. And to me, it reminds me of the games I went to with my own father. Granted, he couldn’t afford season tickets, and normally we would sit in the nosebleed seats, but back when I lived in Nashville, we would go to the Municipal Auditorium and watch it together. My dad was a blue-collar guy, working on building things like airplanes and other machines, so he was busy and when he got home, he was tired and didn’t have much time for me. But he always made it a point to take me to games throughout the season. And I got into the game, I got extremely close to my dad, and they were the best nights of my life. That’s what hockey means to me. And to see it get this dismissive quality, sort of exploiting the violence, makes me frustrated.”

Emma snorted, knowing that frustrated was nowhere near the correct word to describe what her father felt. However, there was something about the story she had been vaguely aware of that she couldn’t help but worry about a teensy bit. He spent time with his father. They bonded, father and son. And Emma? Emma was Jeremy’s only child, a daughter.

“Do you ever wish I was a boy?” she asked. Her voice was quiet and anxious. She always enjoyed her relationship with her father, even with all the awkward conversations they were practically forced to endure. To be honest, Emma didn’t think they could get closer. But maybe if she was a boy...

“Never,” he replied, and Emma was certain he meant it. “I love you exactly the way you are. Never feel any different.”

Emma nodded, satisfied. She yawned again. Maybe, instead of working on the dance tonight, she’d just work extra hard tomorrow. She really didn’t need the corrections implemented until Friday. She had enough time.

“I just hope this ends soon,” Jeremy muttered. From the corner of her eyes, Emma saw him shaking his head with disappointment. “This isn’t what hockey is about.”

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