Page 14 of Ice Daddy
Paige's Mom bristled and folded her arms. “You really think she liked it?”
“Are you kidding? Shelovedit. She was mesmerized by it all! And hey. Check this out. Look at what she's wearing.” Gently, so as not to wake her, Dad pulled at the zipper of Irie's winter coat. Beneath her coat, she was wearing a tiny black and gold hockey jersey.
“Aw, that's cute,” Paige giggled. “I can't believe you bought her that, though. Don't those things cost a small fortune?”
“I didn't buy it. You think I'd buy her aBrawlersjersey?” Dad asked rhetorically. “I don't think so. I would've bought her a Nashville Fury jersey.”
“So that's the enemy's jersey?” Mom asked.
“Yes. And it's got a name and number on the back, even. I forget the guy's name …”
“How'd she get it, then?” Paige asked.
“You have to watch this.” Dad reached into his pocket, fishing for his cell phone. “Thing is, obviously, Irie doesn't know what team she's supposed to be rooting for. She just got excited when the players were right in front of the glass. But twice,thishappened.”
Dad skipped through the footage he recorded from the game, in search of a specific moment. “Here we go.” Irie, wearing a bulky set of earmuffs to protect her hearing, was entranced by all the action on the ice. The Brawlers scored a goal, and the players celebrated, hugging and congratulating each other ten feet away from Dad and Irie's seats.
The child danced wildly in Dad's arms, waving her arms in the air as if she wanted to join in on the goal festivities. Paige and her Mom both laughed, thinking it was a hilariously cute moment.
“That was the first goal,” Dad said, “but it happened one more time at the end of the game. Check this one out.”
He skipped towards the very end of the video. The Brawlers scored once more, and this time the celebration wasrightin front of Dad and Irie's seats. Irie went wild, slapping her tiny palms on the glass with a huge smile on her face and bouncing around until—
Irie managed to snag the attention of one of the Brawler players.
Paige's insides dropped.
That guy looks just like him,she thought for a split second. But she extinguished her hopes before they flared too wildly out of control—it wasn't the first time she thought she'd seen him, after all. She'd 'seen' him before in crowds, at restaurants, seated in her section …
And now she thought she was seeing him on the ice at a professional hockey game?
You're losing it,she told herself. Still, she watched the video, the hairs on the back of her neck eerily standing straight up.
The athlete tried to point out the dancing baby to his teammates, but they were too eager to celebrate the goal with the rest of their teammates. They skated off, without taking notice, leaving him alone.
The athlete neared, smiling and waving at Paige's daughter. He skated closer until his face wasrightnext to the glass. He took off his glove and put his hand on the glass. Irie stared at the stranger's enormous hand, her mouth drawn open in wonder and awe.
And now Paige's mouth was, too. She couldn't see the athlete's whole face—not with that hockey helmet on—but the guy was thespittingimageof her one-night stand.
Irie touched her hand to the glass, joining it against the athlete's hand. A half-inch thick pane of plexiglass separated their palms. The athlete gave one last sweet smile and a wave.
And then he turned around and bolted, joining his teammates.
And Irie, suddenly upset, began to bawl.
And the video ended right when Dad began to soothe her.
“Pretty wild, huh?” Dad asked.
Wild.That didn't even begin to describe it. Paige was speechless, and thoughts flew through her mind at a million miles a minute. She wasn't sure if she was losing her sanity, but that guyreallylooked like her Lance. Could it be? Could itpossiblybe him? No, right? It was too far-fetched, too convenient, tooperfect…
Dad kept rambling. “So just a few minutes after I stopped recording, this man and woman walked up to us. They looked like event staff to me—both nicely dressed, like professionals. But apparently they worked for the Brawlers, because they'd seen that moment between Irie and the player—and they wanted her to have his jersey! They said she was now his youngest fan.”
Paige's Mom was tickled by the story. “Wow! That's so cute.”
“Yeah. He was a hell of a player. Thanks to him, the Fury lost. I was cursing his name until that moment, actually …”
“Whatishis name?” Paige croaked at last, sounding groggy and hoarse.
