Page 86 of Pucking Strong

“Operation Mighty Oak,” he repeats.

“Mighty what?”

“Please don’t say it again,” I mutter.

Novy sinks into silence.

“Look, just ask Poppy,” says Caleb.

“I’m asking my damn players! You know, the men I pay to play hockey?”

“It’s no big deal,” Jake assures him. “She asked us to write theletters so Karlsson and Teddy can show the Swedish and American governments proof of a prior relationship. You know, for their custody case. It’s for Karlsson’s niece, Coach.”

“We’re all ready to swear before any court that the stuff in those letters is true,” Langley adds.

“Trust us,” Jake goes on. “We’re not hurting the team, Coach. We’rehelpingit. Team means family, and family sticks together. Karlsson just needs to get through press tonight, okay? You know the vultures; give them a little taste of blood, and they’ll back off. But the rest of us are focused. We’re taking home the W, and the Islanders will go back to New York in tears.”

Coach levels his gaze at me. “And you, Karlsson? Six years with you on this team, and I’ve never once had to question whether you were fit to play. But now?” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Well, son, I’m asking. Are you here? Are you in this?”

My embarrassment feels ready to boil me from the inside out. I don’t do this. I don’t make public statements about my personal life. I don’t give interviews and write press releases. And I don’t lie.

And this is all a lie. Every word in those letters is a fabrication designed to deceive. I’m so grateful to every man in this room who is coming to my defense. They’re protecting me, protecting Karolina and Teddy. But if their defense comes at the expense of their integrity? How do I live with that? How do I look them in the eye?

“Hey.” From behind me, Novy squeezes my shoulder.

I glance his way.

As if he can read my every thought, the corner of his mouth tips with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, bud. We’ve got you. You’re a Ray, Karlsson. And Rays flock together … or, you know, whatever shit rays do out in the wild.”

“School, maybe?” Langley offers.

“Swim?” says Jake with a shrug. He turns to Caleb. “Hey babe, what’s the group noun for stingrays?”

We all turn as Caleb stands there, hands in his pockets. “I …”

The tension in the room breaks as Jake gasps, tugging on Langley’s arm. “Oh my god, take a picture.”

Novy pushes off from the wall, eyes alight. “He doesn’t know.”

Langley fumbles in his pocket as Jake shakes his shoulder. “Take the fucking picture!”

Laughing, Langley holds up his phone. “Did we finally do it, Cay? Did we find the limits of your dazzling intellect?”

Jake looks like a kid on Christmas as he points at his husband. “You don’t even know, do you? Admit it.”

“Fuck you,” Caleb mutters, throwing up a hand to try to stop Langley from taking his picture. “None of you knows either, assholes.”

“Send it to Mars!” Jake directs as Caleb lunges over him. “Tell him Cay needs to ask him a very important question—ouch—” He and Langley cackle as Caleb folds himself over Jake’s chair, trying to wrestle the phone away.

“Give it to me.”

“Ow—babe—hey, not so feisty in front of Coach!”

“Here—catch!” Langley tosses the phone to Novikov.

“Fuckers—”

“Sent,” says Novy with a smug grin.

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