“Coach isn’t nearly as cruel as you are, Coop. No one is.” Beau lowers his voice low enough so only I can hear him. “What am I going to do without you on the ice with me?”
I’ve always been closer to Beau than my other brothers. We’re the closest in age, with only a two-year age difference between us. We played on a lot of the same teams growing up, had the same coaches, and we both love hockey more than anything, just like our dad. He wanted to follow me into the NHL when he turned eighteen, but I convinced him to go to college first, only after promising that we’d be on the ice together again when he graduated. He worked his ass off to get a degree and make it to the NHL.
“The same thing you did in high school, college, and the year you played for the AHL team. You got this, even if you are the second-best Hendrix.”
“Ha ha,” he says dryly as another one of our teammates shouts for him to get moving. “Talk to you later, bro. Tell Mom I love her and would love lasagna and snickerdoodles.”
“Will do, baby bro.” I shake my head as I pull into the driveway of my childhood home.
We’ve lived in the same house my entire life. It’s been in my family for years. Dad used to say that our families’ roots are tied to this house—a turn-of-the-century craftsman-style home that is almost a perfect blend of the original character from when it was built with some modern amenities included.
I barely have time to park my truck in the driveway before Momma steps out onto the covered porch, her arms crossed over her chest. Her round tortoise-shell glasses are pushed on top ofher head, pushing back her shoulder-length wavy, dirty blonde hair with strands of silver running through it from her face. She has on a pair of dark-colored pants—not jeans—and a black-and-white shirt tucked neatly into the waistband.
“Look what the wind blew in.” She shakes her head, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
“Beau is such a momma’s boy,” I whisper under my breath as I climb out of the car and push the door shut.
“Don’t blame your brother for spilling the news. I knew long before he called me to tell me.”
I stare at her in surprise. I was inside my truck with the windows and door shut. How could she have possibly heard what I said?
“No, I’m not a mind reader. Redwood Falls is a small town. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know you were gonna be spending some more time in town? Hell, I probably knew before you did.”
“The joys of living in a small town,” I chuckle in response, striding up the stairs and wrapping my arms around my mom. “How you doin’, Momma?”
“Everything is just fine, or at least it would be if I knew you were going to be coaching a team for the hockey club.” She pushes her cheek in my direction, not bothering to look at me.
I lean down and plant a kiss on her cheek before resting my chin on her head. “I’m sorry you heard the news from someone else. I literally only found out a few hours ago. I took the drive to process.”
“Fair enough, I guess.” She pats my cheek slightly,motioning me closer so she can kiss my cheek before turning to head through the front door, leaving it open, knowing I’m right behind her.
“Take a seat on the sofa and relax. I’ll grab you a beer out of the fridge while I make you something to eat.”
“Beer?” I question, dropping onto the worn leather sofa as instructed.
My mom never keeps beer in the house unless she knows that Beau and I are coming home for a visit. She really must have known longer than I have. With both of my legs now firmly planted on the couch, I lean back, letting my eyes drift shut. I take a deep breath and sink into the couch cushions, relaxing for the first time since Coach called me yesterday, asking for us to meet. I need to be patient. There must be something I can do to convince Coach that I’m still an asset to the team. That I still belong on the ice with my brother and teammates, even if it’s only for one more season.
“You know better than to have shoes on my furniture, Cooper,” Momma chastises, pointing toward my feet as she heads to the fridge and pulls it open. “I have almost everything I need to make your favorite, chicken and dumpling soup. Do you mind swinging by the store for me and grabbing some carrots and celery?”
“You know I’ll do anything for your chicken and dumpling soup.” I push back to my feet and head toward the kitchen. “Is there anything else you need since I’m going? Beau requests lasagna and snickerdoodles when we go to the exhibition game this weekend in Portland. Although I have a feeling those are more for the team than him anyway.”
Momma focuses all her attention on the contents of her fridge. “I’m going to need some more butter for the cookies, crushed tomatoes, eggs, and parchment paper.”
“You’re planning on making noodles, too, aren’t you?” My mouth waters at the thought of having a meal completely made by my mother.
Momma was once a classically trained chef in another life, her life before my dad. I used to love hearing the story about how my parents met at some fancy restaurant in Seattle, but shedoesn’t tell it as much as she used to because it hurts her too much. It hurts us all too much.
“You’re going to make extra to keep here at the house? You know how much I love your lasagna.”
“What my babies want my babies get.” She flashes me a smile before closing the door. “I’m going to need to make an extra batch of cookies, too, aren’t I?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I laugh, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t remember you being so accommodating when we were younger.”
“Of course not. I refused to raise any of you to be spoiled brats.” She huffs before heading for the pantry, ready to get started on the broth for the soup. “Now that my job is done, I have every intention of spoiling you rotten, especially with you both being so close.”
I shake my head at her before heading out the front door and climbing back into my truck. My knee protests slightly as I climb in, but I manage it. I’m going to need to do my stretches and ice it before bed. I didn’t plan on spending so much time in the truck today, but it couldn’t be helped. The Highland cow population of Redwood Falls must get from pasture to pasture somehow, right?
As I pull out of the driveway, the image of the beauty from earlier today flashes through my mind, catching me by surprise. Sure, she was beautiful, but what is it about her I can’t forget? What makes the small interaction I had with her stick out in my mind? I rarely pay attention to the opposite sex. It’s not for lack of companionship, that’s for sure. Being a professional athlete has its perks, but I decided early in my career that anything to do with the opposite sex, relationships especially, wasn’t my thing.