Page 58 of A Vegas Crush Collection #2

shoulda known

Tyler

March

We’ve just checked in to our hotel in Boston after playing games in New York, New Jersey, and Philadelphia. I’m psyched for a hometown game. I even sent word to my old gym teacher, Mr. Gunnersen, and set him up with club seats so he could watch the game in style.

Now, the hard call. I dial my mom’s number.

“Hi Tyler,” she answers right away.

“Hey, Ma. How’s it goin’?”

“It’s been all right,” she says casually. “Got the money you sent. Still waitin’ on the welfare shysters to get their shit together, so it helps.”

That’s the closest I’ll ever get to a thank you from her, so I’ll take it. “Good. Glad it helped. Hey, I’m in Boston for a game, and I thought I could get you and the kids some tickets. You could come cheer me on.”

“Ah, no, I don’t have a car and I’m not loadin’ the kids up on the bus.”

“I can send a car, Ma. Don’t worry about getting there and back.”

“Yeah, but it ain’t just the gettin’ there, is it? They’ll get there and want T-shirts and hot dogs and popcorn and it’ll be a whole big mess that I can’t afford.”

“Ma,” I say, exasperated. “I got it. I’ll take care of all of it. Just come watch me play. The kids will like it and then we can all go out to dinner after. It’ll be something special for them and they’ll be able to say that’s my big brother out there. Just come.”

She’s quiet for a second, then she sighs. “Okay. Fine, fine. We’ll come.”

“Awesome.” I let out a sigh of relief. “I’ll send a car at six and they’ll drop you at Will Call.

You’ll go to the window and tell them your name and then they’ll give you a packet of tickets, concession vouchers, T-shirts, and all that.

Then after the game, just stay in your seats and I’ll have someone bring you to me so we can go eat. Okay?”

“Fine, okay,” she says.

“See you later then.”

She hangs up without saying goodbye. Typical. At least the kids will be excited about seeing me play and get to have a fun night away from home.

I call Vik next and ask him to put Scarlett on the line, then explain what I need from her.

She’s been traveling with the team for long road trips like this one since she returned from maternity leave.

They even bring a nanny and baby Alex on these trips.

Somehow the three of them make it all work. Craziness indeed.

“I didn’t know you had family here, Tyler,” she says all excited. “That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, we’ll see. I think my little brother and sister will like it, but my ma is weird about shit like this.”

“Well, either way, I’ll get everything ready for you down there.”

“Thanks, Red, you’re a lifesaver.”

Viktor gets on the line after she says goodbye and gives me shit. “What is this about little brother and sister? I have no knowledge of these children.”

“I don’t talk about ’em,” I explain. “Half-brother and -sister. They’re real young. Four and six.”

“This is new information, friend. I thought you were an orphan.”

“Or demon spawn. Yeah, I got it. You’re not the first.”

“I can meet them?”

“We’ll see, big guy. They can be a lot. I’ll see ya later in the locker room.”

I hang up, tense, and decide to head to the gym for a bit to blow off some steam. One of the trainers is in there and he helps me work through a light workout, so I don’t end up hurting myself before the game. I want to call Zoya. I keep thinking about her.

Fuck it. I’m gonna call.

I finish the workout and head to grab my bag from the room, dialing Zoya’s number as I swig some water.

“Hello, Tyler,” she answers quickly as if she’s actually happy to hear from me. As opposed to Ma who probably answers on the first ring in case she can get more outta me.

“Hey. Just wanted to check in on my favorite smokeshow before I go play.”

“Boston?”

“Yeah...” I say, and it comes out a little shaky. “I invited my ma and the kids to come. I hope it doesn’t turn into a shitshow.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” she says in that sweet voice that surprisingly soothes me. “Play well. Call me later if you want to talk.”

“I will. Call you, I mean. I assume you won’t be watching?”

“I don’t watch hockey if I can help it, but I will hope for a win.”

“Okay. Thanks. Talk to you later.”

We hang up and I shake out my arms, trying to rid myself of these weird jitters I have going on. This is just a game, like any other game, I try to convince myself.

It’s no big thing.

Just another game.

This game is hella tight. Boston is out for blood and their right winger is on fucking fire.

He’s just shot after shot on goal, blasting the puck at us.

We can’t do much but try to fend him off.

He’s a machine. And we knew it, because he’s been playing like this all damn season, but for whatever reason, we weren’t prepared for this tonight.

Maybe we’re tired after three other games on the road, but we have got to get our asses in gear.

Boris and Mikhail and Evan need to push past their brick of a center defenseman and get some puck in net, like stat.

The buzzer goes off for the end of the second period and I’m drenched in sweat.

I gulp down a shit-ton of Gatorade, pulling my gloves off and throwing them on the ground.

Evan is yelping at everyone, shut that guy down.

Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. That’s all we’ve been doin’ all damn game.

If the guy was a motherfucking baseball player, he’d be swinging for the fences like it’s the Home Run Derby. Fuck. Where did this kid come from?

Plus, they’re physical as hell, which normally doesn’t bother me, but I’m honestly tryin’ not to get in a fight with my little brother and sister in the stands.

My temper is hot, though, and one more check by their monstrous center forward and I will put that asshole’s head in a vise and pop it off.

I breathe in, and blow out, several times, trying to center my brain. We’re tied one-one heading into the third period. I’m sure as hell not goin’ down without a fight.

We head back out, refocused, and about three minutes in, I see an opening to the Ice Dragon.

I hang on to the puck long enough to fake like I’m going to pass it to Evan, but I wing it past him over to Boris, who chucks it right into the goal.

Fuck yeah, an assist! Boris and I high-five, our ugly mugs up on the jumbotron for all to see.

Our second score of the period comes on a power play resulting from a big fight between that center and Mikhail. We’re up a player and we use the advantage, Evan taking us to three-two just two minutes before the buzzer ends the game.

The Boston crowd is not happy, though there are a few chants for “Lockhardt” since it’s known that I’m a Beantown native.

We do a few press snippets and then head to the locker room.

I chuck my contacts, which are burning because of the sweating I’m doing, and head for a shower.

Once I’m dressed and have found my glasses buried deep in my gym bag, I look at my phone, ready to call to meet up with Ma and the kids for dinner.

I looked for them in the stands throughout the game, but it was impossible to pick them out in the crowd.

I wander out in the hallway, expecting to see familiar faces waiting, but they’re nowhere to be found. What I do find is a stressed-out looking Scarlett, who grabs my arm and pulls me off, away from the crowd.

“What’s up, Red? Did you find my family?”

She cringes.

“What?”

“Um…I don’t really know how to tell you this—”

“Just spit it out. Are they okay?”

She lets out a shaky breath. “I went out to meet your mom at the gate, thought I’d get a little picture or something for social media, you know?

Will Call told me she’d just been in and picked up the packet, so I walked outside, hoping to find her, and there was a big commotion on the street corner right in front of The Garden.

Turns out, your mother tried to scalp the tickets, the vouchers and merch.

The police came and they ended up searching her.

..and they—they found—d-drug paraphernalia… ”

My stomach is on the floor. What the actual fuck?

“I guess it turned into an altercation, so they cuffed her and threw her in one cruiser, then loaded the kids into a second car.” Scarlett is near to tears, now.

“Fuuuuck.” It’s all I can think to say.

“I’m so sorry, Tyler. I tried to get the cops to leave them all with me, but with the drugs…they said they had to arrest her. I didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want to mess up your game.”

“It’s not your fault, Red. This is why I don’t talk to folks about my family. This is who my mother is.” How could she fucking do this? “Do you... do you know what’s going to happen to the kids?”

Scarlett is crying openly, now, obviously deeply affected by the whole scene she witnessed. Been there, Red. Bought the T-shirt and everything.

I pull her into a hug and remind her again and again that this isn’t her fault. She has nothing to be sorry for. I thank her for keeping the whole fucked-up mess as discreet as possible before the start of the game.

Through sad tears, she tells me she just wants to go hold her baby.

I don’t blame her.

Me? I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to punch a hole in something more than I do at this moment.

I should have known.

I should have fucking known this would happen.