Page 84 of Sexting the Coach
Harrison gestures to his head, pointedly looking at my hat. “You should embrace it. Trust me, going silver is a blessing in disguise.”
I thank him and leave the hotel, walking briskly down the street in the cold air. It’s only when I reach the event center, pushing through the tall, golden doors, that I recognize Clark’s guess about my hair.
It’s not just hair, I realize. It’s embracing growing older. And every time I pull my hat down over my head, I’m just delaying the inevitable. Running from a future that could be good, if I just let it be.
When I push through the doors, I pluck the Squids hat up off my head, run a hand through my hair, and drop the thing in the trash.
The ceremony has already started by the time I walk into the ballroom.
It’s filled with tables, all covered by crisp, perfectly white tablecloths. Candles flicker on the faces of the guests, and I scan through the dim light of the room, desperately searching for the shape of the woman I’m looking for.
“Sir?”
I pause, glancing at the man who’s appeared at my elbow. He’s wearing a suit and tie and is looking at me worriedly.
“Do you need help finding your table?”
“No, that’s okay,” I whisper, thankful for the slow, constant drone of the man up on the stage, who seems to be in the middle of reading a long slew of hockey stats. “I’m actually looking for someone?—”
A different man walks up onto the stage with energy, thanking the speaker for his time and turning to the attendants. I recognize him as a guy a little younger than me, who’s just retired. Hosting the induction is a pretty cool gig for a guy like that, and he’s conducting himself with a personable, confident ease as he talks into the microphone.
“Alright, and as a little treat tonight, we have a slight change of plans. Rather than Sandra Montgomery giving a speech on behalf of August Montgomery, please welcome his daughter, Elsie!”
There’s a polite cheer, and from the back of the room comes a loudwhoop! I glance in that direction to find her mother, along with a man her age, just barely lit in the dim light, his fingers in his mouth as he whistles loudly.
That must be her brother. August Montgomery is notably missing.
I snap my gaze back to the stage, where Elsie is walking out, the gentle tap of her heels a rhythmic, soothing sound. I can’t tear my eyes from her as she stands in a gilded dress, her hair twisted up on her head, a few loose tendrils curled gently around her face.
Quickly, I look between her and the table. Is she talking to her brother again? Or was she surprised to see him here?
Elsie begins her speech.
“Hi everyone, thank you so much for coming tonight, to help us celebrate all the inductees into the NHL Hall of Fame. It’s an honor to be here, and I’d like to thank my mother for letting me take her spot tonight. She had a beautiful speech prepared tonight, but I have something I need to get off my chest.”
There’s no time to think about it. I can ask her later, after we’ve talked.
“Sir, I really should help you find your seat?—”
“I need to get to the stage.”
“But, sir?—”
“I’m part of the inducted class,” I say, glad that it’s true, because it’s the only thing that might actually get me close enough to talk to Elsie right now.
“Oh,” the man says, his eyebrows flying up. “Oh, okay, right this way.”
As we walk, Elsie stops to take a deep breath, then goes on, her voice ringing out, crystal clear, through the room with the help of the small microphone attached to the podium.
“Many of you are probably familiar with my brother,” she says, her eyes skipping to him in the crowd. “He was set to go D-1 after high school graduation, until an accident knocked him off course. I was—if not responsible—involved in that accident. For a long time, I’ve let that fact overwhelm me with the weight of guilt.”
The room is deathly quiet, and I’m grateful for the carpet that lines our path up to the stage, otherwise everyone might hear the sound of my shoes against the floor as we walk.
“And I let it push me away from pursuing the life I wanted for myself.” Elsie pauses, takes a deep breath. “My father is not the kind of man who hold himself back.” A quick titter runs throughthe crowd. “If you’ve ever seen him on the ice, you know that’s true. There’s a reason we love sports so much, and that’s because of how well we can apply their tenants to real life. Work hard, show up, be there for your teammates, and you’ll go far. Have passion. Have tenacity. As nice and clean-cut as that is, it’s not always exactly true. Just like in sports, there are ways in which real life goes off track.”
I slip behind a curtain with the man leading me, and he stops to check a list with someone else. I can see Elsie, just feet from me, and my entire body urges me to go to her.
But I also don’t want her to stop talking.
