Page 121 of Pucking Strong

“Australia!” I jump up and down, clapping.

Next to me, Karro sits happily in her chair, swinging her feet, eating her cotton candy by the sticky fistful. Thanks to my friend Cheyenne in the ticketing department, we were able to snag three handicap-accessible seats in the lower VIP area. We’re not right on the glass, but we’re close enough to feel part of the action.

The Dallas goalie is hunched in the net right in front of us, watching the action as the puck is dropped for another face-off. Lindy gains possession and slaps it over to Henrik.

“Morbror has the puck!” I scoop Karro out of her seat and balance her on my hip. We got the all-clear from her doctor regarding the hairline fracture on her ribs, which has been amazing. She can get more comfortable sleeping, and we don’t have to treat her quiteso much like a glass doll. Really, it’s just her casted arm and leg to worry about now, and she’ll be able to bear weight on the leg in a few more weeks.

She shakes her bag of cotton candy in my face. “Go, Morbror!”

“Man, he’s fast,” says Colin.

Henrik cuts and glides, dancing around the Dallas players. They’re closing in, and he doesn’t have a clean shot. He drops the puck back to Jake, who passes it up to Lindy. The forward line reforms, with Henrik trying to get clear for a pass. Lindy slips the puck around a defender, right to Henrik, but Henrik is too wide to get over to the goal. Instead, he races around the back of the net.

He’s crossing right in front of us as a Dallas defenseman slams him into the plexiglass. There’s a loudcrackas the glass sways. Excited fans surge forward, pounding their fists on the glass in Henrik’s face.

“Morbror!” Karro squeals in fright.

“He’s okay,” I soothe.

He grunts in frustration as the crowd screams. The puck gets caught between their skates as they scrap for possession. Then the other defenseman comes crashing in, slamming Henrik down to the ice.

Karro practically flings herself from my arms. “Nej!”

“Shh, he’s okay, honey.” I can hardly breathe as I watch him stumble to his feet and push off the wall, chasing after the puck that’s now crossing the center line in the opposite direction.

Karro looks to me with anxious eyes. “Is he hurt?”

I kiss her cheek. “No, honey. See?” I point to him as he zips towards the Rays’ goal. “He’s still out there skating. Look how fast he is. Do you see him? Number seventeen?”

She nods, her bag of cotton candy still clutched in her fist.

There’s a scramble in front of our net, and Jake whacks the puck free, sending it careening down the ice, three lengths ahead of Langley. He’s skating as fast as he can, but the Dallas defenseman gets there first, claiming possession and pulling the puck back into his defensive zone. Langley flies around the back of the net, looking for his forward line to reset for a pass.

“He’s not open,” Colin shouts, all but strangling me as he jumps up and down, seeing the play unravel before it happens. The Dallas defenseman makes the pass, but the puck is intercepted by Henrik.

“Morbror has the puck again.” I point him out on the ice, balancing Karro on my hip. “See him?”

She nods.

“Pass it! Pass it!” Colin shouts.

Henrik slides to a stop in a spray of ice and shoots the puck forward, right to a waiting Langley. Ryan barely has it on the tip of his blade before he whacks it into the back of the net. The cherry lights up, the horn blasts, and the crowd goes wild. It’s Langley’s point, but Henrik gets credit for the assist.

“Yes! Yes!” Colin jostles me as Karro covers her ears with her hands. Her cotton candy bag hits me in the face. I can hardly see Henrik down on the ice through the cloud of pink-and-blue plastic. Langley stops at the wall right in front of us. The rest of the team skates in, congratulating him.

“Morbror!” Karro shouts.

Through the din, Henrik hears her cry. His gaze locks on our section, focusing like a laser as he searches for her in the crowd. The second he spots us four rows up, I know something’s wrong. His eyes burn like molten lava as he glares, first at me, then Colin.

Oh shit.

I know Colin notices, too, because he drops his arm from my shoulder and leans away. “Uhh … he knows I’m married, right? And straight? Like, as a fucking arrow?”

Heart in my throat, I brush Karro’s cotton candy bag away from my face. “It’s possible your sexual orientation has never come up.”

Colin groans. “You really are a hopeless case, you know that?”

“Well, how often does that come up about a person you literallyneverdiscuss?”

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