Her husband was there, standing, waiting; his massive pads were leaned inward slightly at the knees, and she knew he was bracing himself for the puck to come sliding at breakneck speed toward his body. As she stared at him, she couldn’t help but think of those few classes they’d taken together at hot yoga, seeing him in a completely different light. It wasn’t just the movements or the pose. It was the way he held himself, each muscle tense and waiting – like a rubber band waiting to snap.
The man was a machine; she thought in amazement as he slammed one knee down while the other held him aloft. He could practically fold each limb, sliding, twisting, moving in ways that people could only dream of – if they were into human origami. No wonder he hurt, and she was glad to see him moving and doing this. She wasn’t a physical therapist or a doctor, butshe could see exactly how abused joints had grown sore over time and knew she wanted to help.
And as he blocked a score – he rose and held his hockey stick up like a knight holding aloft his lance, pointing at her.
Acknowledging her.
If that wasn’t freakin’ romantic, she didn’t know what was. She smiled nervously and blew him a kiss… and saw him do the same with his gloved hand – before quickly moving back into position, focused and driven.
“See? Weird,” Kendall said once more, but the bitterness of her sister’s voice was gone. Things were slowly getting better at home, and maybeweirdwas okay. Her sister and Dustin had this strange bickering friendship. He made her study, encouraged her to be independent, and was now taunting her with hockey little league, and her sister made him a toilet-shaped coffee mug that he used all the time.
Maybe they didn’t have to be cozy, because families weren’t that way sometimes. She saw it in the new families surrounding them. From arguing kids to infants who were exhausted, to wary pre-teens… perhaps they just needed to find a way for their circles to intersect with the least amount of destruction possible, and that was okay too.
In fact, it was more than okay because it wasn’t forced.
Each of them was cherished for their own thoughts, beliefs, wishes, and attempts to find their own footing. Kendall was going to learn how to play hockey with Paige, Stephen, and a few other kids – because it’s what they chose to do, to be a part of this world.
And it was beautiful.
Dustin leaped to the side, blocking another shot – and blew her another kiss the moment he got back to his feet, once again, focused and zeroing in on his job.
Her heart, her eyes, her soul focused onhim, her husband.
Hewas beautiful.
They won.
That was the most intense game Laurel had ever witnessed, but they managed to hold onto their lead even in the last few seconds when things became insane on the ice. Dustin managed to block the puck in a frantic rush of players, surrounded and slapping at the puck. At one point, they skated past and tried to hook it behind one of the players, tugging the puck forward to see if they could slip past him – and he blocked it, too. She had no idea how he kept up with the quickly moving puck that seemed to be everywhere at once, but he did… and they were celebrating.
They probably shouldnothave put a hot mic on Coeur, either.
“Ha…HA! Take that Perry… you pansy! Go cry to your mama, pretty boy, and make room so the manly-men can celebrate!”
“Coeur…”
“What?”
“Don’t gloat.”
“Me? I’m celebrating…”
“You’re still mic’d up.”
“Crappola…” Coeur grimaced as they walked down the hallway toward the locker rooms and waved happily, talking excitedly for whoever was listening. “Hey, Irene! Hey, Stephen! I wanted to just tell my family how much I love them and treasure their support – and how grateful I am to be a part of theWolverines. I learned so much during my time with the North Texas Coyotes that the transition feels like…”
“Coeur?”
“Yeah, Salas?”
“They cut your mic.” A man’s voice interrupted Coeur. Laurel and Kendall exchanged a knowing glance as the wild hockey player suddenly changed his tune. They heard a ripple of laughter from several others nearby as Irene, Coeur’s wife, rolled her eyes and shook her head.
“Oh, thank goodness – what a bunch of whiny babies on the ice. I almost had to ask one of the goalies where Perry’s paci was… I swear, I’ve never seen such a…Boucher, my mic is still hot, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I’ll shut up now.”
“That’d be swell, buddy.”