Page 128 of Fall to Me
“You, too.”
I wish River was here to see this, but her doctor restricted her from traveling. The Ceremony hasn’t even commenced yet, and I’m ready to head out of Florida and fly home to her, especially since I didn’t want to leave her in the first place.
Cal jumps over the boards and picks me up in a bear hug. “We did it, brother.”
“Fuck yeah, we did!” I yell, slapping him on the back before he jumps back over the boards and takes another celebratory lap with the rest of the team.
I follow behind him, joining Coach and the rest of the team in the center of the rink. A deafening roar echoes throughout the arena but slowly dies down as the Public Address announcer says over the intercom, “Please direct your attention to the ice for the Conn Smythe Trophy presentation, which goes to the most valuable player of this year's Stanley Cup Playoffs.”
The commissioner comes out onto the ice, and the crowd grows silent as he gives his congratulatory speech.
“I’m proud to announce, this year’s MVP recipient goes to . . .”
Both of my fingers cross, my heart spikes, and all the blood rushes to my head as he leaves us in suspense.
Callan Miles.
Callan Miles.
Please say Callan Fucking Miles.
“Callan Miles,” he says.
I drop to my knees right there on the ice as cheers echo all around us.
He did it! He actually fucking did it.
I can’t even begin to express the amount of pride filling me right now as Cal approaches the commissioner, shakes his hand, and accepts the trophy.
He skates toward us, and we all gather around him, clapping him on the back as he holds the trophy high above his head, smiling from ear to ear. I reflect on the struggles he’s had over the past four years and how far he’s come in just this year alone. Biased or not, no one is more deserving of that award than my brother-in-law.
The ceremony wraps up, then I follow the team into the locker room where we’re given a champagne bath. It’s amadhouse. Aiden and Sean snap towels at each other as loud music plays in the locker room. It looks as though they’ve mended fences . . . for now.
After Coach gives his speech in the locker room, I hug each of my old teammates, then trail behind him, exiting the locker room. Coach and Katherine stand right outside the locker room doors, twisted in an embrace, and all I can think about is how bad I want to be home with my wife.
I’m proud of those guys, but it’s not enough to keep me in Florida celebrating the night away without River. The entire flight, my knee bounces up and down, and I can’t seem to sit still in my seat, even though I know that when I return, she’ll already be asleep. At least I’ll wake up to her in the morning.
The house is pitch black as I pull into our driveway, but as my key hits the lock of our new home just down the road from Cal and Aspen, the outside light turns on, and River swings open the door with a smile on her face.
“I’m so proud of you, Coach!” she says, throwing her arms around me.
I want to pick her up so badly and swing her around like I used to, but that’s entirely impossible right now with two growing babies inside her swollen belly.
“It’s late. What are you doing awake?”
“Heartburn. It’s the fucking worst,” she groans, then she kisses my lips and . . . Holy fuck!
“What the hell is that?” I ask.
“What?”
“Why the hell do you taste like pickles and peanut butter?” I scrunch my nose.
She rolls her eyes and takes my hand, leading me inside the house. “Maybe that’s because one of your spawns was craving pickles and the other one was craving peanut butter, so I made a sandwich with both.”
I give her a look of disgust. “Who evenareyou, woman?”
It takes her a few seconds before she turns around, looking me in the eyes, and says, “Well, Carter . . .”
