Page 96
Story: Playmaker
The ice crew rolled out rugs, and family members poured onto the sheet to celebrate with us. I looked around for Lila, but she wasn’t out here yet. Probably waiting out the biggest crush so she could move more slowly on her crutches. I could wait; I wanted her to be safe more than anything.
My brother shouldered his way through the crowd wearing aPittsburgh Bearcats, WHPL Cup Championsbaseball cap like the one I had on. He threw his arms around me and damn near knocked me onto the ice. “Holy crap, Beans! You won the Cup!”
I almost started crying again, hugging him back fiercely. “We did! I can’t believe it!”
“Pfft. I can.” He gave my back a slap and let me go. “I’ve watched almost every game—you’ve all been killing it!”
“Yeah, but they gave us a run for our money.”
“Well. Yeah.” He rolled his eyes as if I were still his dumb little sister. “It wouldn’t be worthwhile if it was easy.”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “If I wanted easy, I’d play against your team.”
“Oh. Oh.” He touched his chest. “That’s cold, Beans.Cold.”
I snickered and hugged him again. “You deserved it and you know it.”
He just chuckled and smacked my back. He’d made the same comment to me when we were teenagers, and I’d been waiting a damn decade to toss it back at him. “Seriously, though,” he said. “Congrats. This is amazing.”
“Thanks.” I pulled back. “Maybe next year will be your year.”
With a quiet, self-deprecating laugh, he said, “Yeah. We’ll see.”
His team had been eliminated during the men’s league’s second round. It hadn’t been a blowout, but it hadn’t been their greatest performance, either. To be fair, they’d been plagued with injuries as most teams were this time of year, and they’d been down three of their top six. His coaches didn’t seem to think depth was all that important, so they hadn’t done much to shore up their bottom six; losing an entire line’s worth of their best forwards had been adisaster.
Next year? Maybe if they replaced all their coaches.
My mom and sister came down too, and we shared hugs.
And then…
Oh, God.
I knew it was coming, but I still wasn’t ready when my father’s face emerged from the crowd.
And I didn’t know what to make of the way he was beaming. Or the fact that he wore a cap that matched the one my brother and I wore.
He was… celebrating my team’s win?
Oh my God.
Thiswasreal. He really was here and celebrating.
I glanced at my mom, who nodded.
Then I skated to the edge of the carpet where he was standing. “Dad?”
He beamed. “Well done, kiddo.” He smacked my padded shoulder. “Turns out you’ve really got it.”
I had to blink past the sting in my eyes. All my damn life, I’d waited to hear him say that. To hear him tell me I was good at hockey, and that the hockey I played actually mattered. Now that I had Olympic medals, World Junior Women’s medals,anda Cup, he finally saw what I’d beenbegginghim to see all along.
The little girl watching him at training camp couldn’t have even dreamed of this moment.
But the woman standing here now…
Pulling in a deep breath, I skated back, getting out from under his hand and out of his reach. “No, Dad. We’re not doing this.”
He blinked, hand still hovering in the air where my shoulder had been. “Not doing—what are you talking about?”
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