Page 52 of Playing to Win

I hadn’t seen Jayna,except for a couple of photo things for social media—lunch in her office, her spotting me while I was doing some strength training. She was busy, between her two jobs, the Bonfire in the playoffs, and the Blaze working on clinching their own spot. Plus she had her rehab. It wasn’t because we’d had sex.

I had my own practice and training and workouts to keep me busy. Luke invited the Inferno guys over one night when we were both free, and I had lunch most days at the training facility with the Blaze. I needed to focus on my game, not my fake girlfriend. Who was amazing in bed…and that was not what I was supposed to be thinking about. She hadn’t said we’d do it again, and I had to respect that.

This weekend my parents were finally able to fly in for a game. There were no guarantees that I would play, but I wanted to see them and they were anxious to see me too. The whole Devereaux/fake girlfriend thing had them worried, even though we talked about it on every call. They wanted to meet Jayna.

I’d told my folks that she might be busy—this weekend was the start of the Bonfire’s playoff series, and that was a bigger priority than me sitting on the bench for a game. But as it turned out, the Bonfire were out of town, and Jayna would be in the team box to do her job for the Blaze. That must be frustrating for her. Another case of the men’s team being more important than the women’s. Things I never noticed before but could now appreciate.

I’d booked a hotel near the arena for my mom and dad. They planned to take the UP Express from the airport and catch a cab to the hotel, not wanting to interrupt my game-day routine. They knew how superstitious I was about that.

I was in a great mood for practice. My parents were here, and I’d get to see Jayna again. I started my stretches, and while I had my face almost on the ice, getting those muscles loose before we did drills, Coach Osgood, our head coach, skated over to Coach Salo, the two of them looking at me.

Butterflies started in my stomach. Had I done something wrong? Coach Salo waved me over, so I got up and skated to join them. Whatever it was, I could fix it. They were stuck with me for a few more weeks and I could get better.

Coach Osgood nodded. “You need more game time, and we want to keep some freshness in the team legs. Carolina lost a couple of their starters to injury, so this should be an easy game. You and some of the bench guys are starting.”

“Really? Because my parents are here for the game.”

“We know. You’ve been doing well in practice—don’t mess this up. The team needs to be confident with both their goalies.”

Practice flew by. When I got back to the locker room, I had a message from my folks to let me know they’d got to their room safely and were going to have dinner at the restaurant I’d recommended. They were sitting in the friends and family section for the game and someone from the team would meet them and bring them down to see me after.

Should I tell them I’m starting?I didn’t want to get their hopes up for nothing, in case I got appendicitis, or someone ran into me in warm-ups. A surprise wouldn’t hurt them. I wanted to message Jayna, but she’d already know. We might have had sex, but I was still her job, not her boyfriend.

I couldn’t sleep when I was supposed to have my afternoon nap. Luke wasn’t home, since the Inferno had away games in Winnipeg this weekend—ironically, the closest I would have been to home this season. My nerves were jittery. Starting was always nerve-racking, but this time I was starting an NHL game.

Finally, it was time to drive to the arena and go through my game routine. Petey frowned at me. Was that still about Frank Devereaux or was he pissed that he wasn’t getting the start? He went off to do his meditation time, and I tried to settle my nerves by juggling some tennis balls. I had to focus to do that, and it helped. Until we went out for on-ice warm-ups.

When I skated onto the ice, there were the usual crowds around the glass, fans who were early and wanted to experience every bit of the game. Ticket prices in this city were astronomical, so a lot of people couldn’t afford to come very often. I lowered myself to the ice, needing to stretch out and loosen muscles. Petey was in net being pelted with pucks by the skaters, since he was backing up tonight. I looked around at the faces behind the glass while I stretched out my hamstrings, and grinned when I saw my folks. Most of the butterflies settled when I looked at their familiar faces.

They waved, and I skated over to greet them. A couple of kids were waiting beside them, excited that a hockey player was coming their way. I wasn’t familiar enough for them to be excited about me in particular, but I picked up a couple of loose pucks to toss over the glass and yelled a hello at Mom and Dad.

They’d never been rabid hockey fans, but they’d come to enough of my games to understand how warm-ups went, and knew I was starting. They gave me a thumbs-up, and said I’d do great. Then we were whistled off the ice, and it was time to focus on the game.

I still got a thrill when we came out on the ice to cheering. The lights down, all the attention on us as we scattered out of the tunnel onto the rink. Everything was bigger, faster, and brighter with the Blaze. There wasn’t huge applause when I was announced, but there was some. We were playing an American team, so I got to hearThe Star-Spangled Banneras well asO Canadathat was sung at every game.

Then I turned to the goal, ran my blocker over the bars and my stick across the goal line. And I hoped like hell this wouldn’t be a disaster.

* * *

I laced up my shoes,hair damp from the shower, smile permanently stretching my face.

“Good game, Mitch!”

“You too, Ducky,” I called back.

He was being generous. I’d let in three goals. But the team had scored five, so I had another win. I hadn’t started well, letting in two goals in the first half of the first period, but then a couple shots hit the crossbar, and I began to trust that my goal was going to help me out. Once I felt better, I played better. Still, I was damned lucky the other goalie had a worse night than me.

Petey was gone before I was out of the shower. The team had me answer some press questions after the game, kind of like I’d expected the first time I played. I’d been careful in my responses about the video, and Jayna and Faith. The best hockey player as far as team management was concerned was the most boring player when it came to the press, and I was the best little player I could be.

Now it was time to meet my parents and Jayna, and the nerves were gone. We didn’t have to pretend we were really dating, and they’d like her. She’d like them too—my parents were great.

I took a last check in the mirror. I’d had the suit dry cleaned after that night at Jayna’s—pushing that memory down fast—and I looked pretty good. I headed out to meet them.

The few games I’d played as backup I’d been out early, and there’d been a lot of people milling around, waiting for their person. I was later tonight, and it wasn’t hard to spot my folks.

Mom ran to hug me, looking up with shining eyes. “You did so good!”

I hugged her tightly. “Not that good, but I’ll take the win.”

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