Page 1 of Time to Shine

Chapter One

Landon Stackhouse had been expecting the call, but his heart still caught in his throat when his phone rang.

“They need you in Calgary,” his team’s general manager, Chris Ferguson, said. Five words that Landon had been waiting to hear for over two years.

“Yes, sir. I can drive myself there.” It was a six-hour drive at least from Saskatoon to Calgary, and since it was November there was a decent chance of snow happening somewhere during it, but if Landon left now...

“Nah, you’re booked on the next flight out of Saskatoon. Leaves in two hours. You’ve got a room waiting at a hotel near the arena. Someone from the Outlaws should be in touch soon with more info.”

“Right,” Landon said, barely stopping himself from asking how he’d get his car to Calgary. He wouldn’t need it. It was fine, it was fine. He’d probably only be there for a couple of days anyway. Maybe a week. He saw the game last night, and saw the Outlaws’ backup goalie, Gilbert Morin, get run over by a Dallas player. The injury didn’t look good; Morin had needed to be helped off the ice.

“You know this is good news, right?” Landon could hear the smile in Ferguson’s voice. “Getting called up to the NHL?”

“Yes.”

Ferguson laughed. “I’ll miss these sparkling conversations, Stackhouse. Good luck in Calgary. You’ve been outstanding for us, so go show the big guys what you’ve got.”

Landon doubted he’d be showing them much more than his door-opening skills while sitting on the bench, but he said, “I will.”

“And try to enjoy yourself for god’s sake.”

“Thank you, sir.”

After the call ended he sat on his bed with his hands on his knees, pressing his fingers into the soft material of his sweatpants. “Okay,” he said quietly into his empty bedroom. “Okay.”

He tried to put the situation into perspective. Yes, he was going to the big leagues. Yes, he would be teammates with actual superstars, including his hero, Antton Niskanen. Yes, this was what all his hard work was for. This was different from the training camps where he was always inevitably cut early. Calgary wanted him.

But also, he was about to go from being Saskatoon’s starting goaltender to sitting on the bench in Calgary. Realistically, he was barely going to meet any of his big-league teammates before hopping on a plane straight back down to the farm team. This would be a cool experience, but it wouldn’t change his life. He could be sure of that.

“I should probably tell Mom and Dad, huh?” Landon said out loud to someone who wasn’t there.

He sent a text to his mom, who was more reliable about checking her phone: Got called up. Heading to Calgary now. After a moment, he added, Flying, not driving, to reduce her anxiety.

He packed quickly and efficiently, the same way he would for a roadie, not as if he was moving to a new home. Because he wasn’t.

Should he wear his suit? This was the big leagues. He should wear his suit.

He removed his basic navy suit from the garment bag he’d carefully packed it in. Minutes later he was inspecting himself in his full-length mirror, which he stood far away from by necessity to fit his entire six-four frame into the glass. He ran a hand over his clean-shaven face, and unnecessarily smoothed his short brown hair.

The last time he’d been in Calgary was over two months ago for the Outlaws prospects training camp. He’d known then that he’d had no hope of making the team; Calgary’s goaltending duo was the envy of the league. Antton Niskanen was a future Hall of Famer, no question, and Gilbert Morin had once been a star goalie for Buffalo and was now a solid backup for Niskanen. Landon had worked hard in the AHL and had established himself as the best-of-the-rest. He could probably expect to see a lot more of Calgary as inevitable injuries and illnesses happened. Calgary wanted to rely on him in a tough situation, and Landon needed to show them that they could.

The man in the mirror looked reliable, he thought. Responsible. Probably too skinny but that was unlikely to ever change. At least he was tall. Coaches and general managers liked tall.

Landon didn’t particularly enjoy looking at himself. He didn’t like being seen, and only truly felt comfortable when he was wearing fifty pounds of goalie gear. Outside of his shell, he was all limbs and sharp angles and vulnerable skin and bones. He had to talk to people, and think about things that weren’t hockey. It was the worst.

Mom replied to his text just before he left his apartment to start his new adventure: Congratulations! That’s amazing and we’re so excited for you. Love you. Be careful!

Landon grimaced at the “be careful,” though he couldn’t blame his parents for worrying. Just like he didn’t blame them for not watching his games. The limited support they were able to give him was already more than he deserved, and the usual wave of guilt swept over him as he wrote back, I will. Love you too.

Landon was sitting in an NHL locker room directly across from Antton Niskanen. Antton fucking Niskanen.

He’d met him before, at training camps. But there had been lots of goalies at those, and Niskanen hadn’t been present for most of the practices and scrimmages. Superstars rarely were. So far, Landon’s conversations with his idol could be described as short and embarrassing. Last time Landon had attempted to talk to him, he’d clumsily stopped himself from gushing about what an honor it was to meet him by complimenting Niskanen’s shoes and asking where he’d bought them. Niskanen had said, “Milan,” and then had turned to talk to the Outlaws captain, Lee Ramsay. Landon had walked away, mentally kicking himself with his own Marshall’s dress shoes.

Things could only get better, right?

When he’d first walked into the arena, Landon had met with Andy Bates, the goalie coach, and learned that he’d arrived during a hectic week. After the game tonight, there would be a short practice and video meeting in the morning, then the team would be flying to St. Louis to start a four-game road trip.

A real NHL road trip. With airplanes and everything.

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