Page 17 of Not A Chance

I’d chosen to wear Mom’s name only on my jersey from the moment I’d been drafted, even before we’d lost her. She’d been my number one supporter and fan. I was only here because of her unwavering commitment to my childhood dreams.

“Ouch, sis. Don’t say the 1900s like it was all Gold Rush fever and fur traders when I was a kid.” I felt ancient now that the internet had made that a thing.

“It was… close, I’d say. Anyway, I’m not committing Gen Z blasphemy by picking up the phone for nothing, T. I wanted to wish you good luck with your new team on your first day of practice.”

Well, shit.She’d hit me right in the chest with that one. Even fifty pounds of goalie gear wouldn’t have shielded my heart from her thoughtfulness.

“Em…” I paused, not having the words to convey how much she meant to me. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today.”

She was quiet on the other end of the line for a moment.

“I’m glad I called, then.” Her tone was bright. “But you know I’m still mad at you, though, right?” She punctuated her statement with a laugh.

The sentimentality that had pressure forming behind my eyes receded to a bearable level when her inability to resist needling metook over once again. Sibling rivalry ran strong among the four of us.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry I let you down, Em.” Even though her tone was teasing, she had every right to still be mad at me.

The distance the earlier years of my career created between me and my siblings had helped me survive those first seasons without Mom. I’d panicked at the thought of coping with my siblings’ grief on top of my own. When I essentially ran away from home and made hockey my entire personality, I only hurt our connection further.

I’d stopped reaching out to them, only making a few half-hearted offers to have them up to see me play. Whether they consciously or unconsciously understood the wall I’d put up between myself and the family, they stopped mentioning coming to any of the Vancouver home games.

Instead, I gathered passive news about their lives via social media and when they’d text me anything they wanted to share. Each time I’d shut them out created a layer of regret I’d worked hard to push to the back of my mind. With Mom gone, a part of me got stuck as the eighteen-year-old rookie who didn’t know how to relate to anyone.

Emery’s sigh was deep enough to carry across the line.

I wasn’t in the running for brother of the year, that was certain.

“I’d say having one of the best goalies in the NHL for a brother isn’t a letdown by anyone’s imagination.” There she went again, trying to give me the benefit of the doubt.

“It’s the ‘brother’ part I’ve let you down on, Em. This trade shook up everything inside me that I’d been pushing away for so long. I want to do better.”

She didn’t say anything in return, which told me all I needed to know. The guilt that had been growing year after year was a lead weight in my stomach.

The bang of a heavy metal door brought my awareness back tomy surroundings. I’d ducked into a random hallway just inside the practice facility when Emery’s call came through. But now, I heard distant voices echoing down the hall. As loath as I was to end this long overdue conversation with my sister, I didn’t need my new team all up in my business on the first day.

“Listen, I don’t want to go, but I feel like a couple dozen hockey players are about to invade the area where I’m standing. Let’s talk again soon, okay? I want to hear about your worst students and have you tell me they can’t even compete with the twins. And make sure to tell me when your next exhibition is so that I can see if I can make something work.”

If I was going to be a better brother, it meant showing up. For a start.

“I’d really love that, Theo.” Her voice was quiet. She only did that when she really wanted something but was too scared to ask for it.

My gut clenched again. When was the last time I’d seen any of her work in person?

Too long.

We only had time for a quick goodbye before two familiar faces came around the corner toward where I was standing.

Granted, I was used to seeing them in a helmet on the ice. But it was easy enough to recognize Michaels and Campbell from their easy camaraderie on or off the ice.

Despite playing against them several times a year, I’d barely given more than a cursory greeting to either of them over the years.

Even though I was older than nearly everyone on this team, I was way out of my comfort zone.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Vezina Award winner two years running. I’m still not over that wrist shot you blocked in game six.” Campbell wasted no time in eyeing me like he planned to hold thatagainst me for the foreseeable future.

“Easy, man. Yao’s not used to your shenanigans yet. You could do him the courtesy of letting him settle in before you start needling him.” Michaels gave me an easy smile. He held out his hand and stopped in front of me. “Welcome to the team. Things happened pretty quick, eh?”

I took his hand, returning his firm shake. The three of us stepped to the side to let some of the other players pass on their way to the locker room. I nodded as a couple of groups passed us by.

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