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Chapter Thirty-Three

Cam

I’m so nervous I almost don’t have room for the heartache still piercing me from this morning’s conversation. I didn’t play in today’s game so I spent far too long circling how I fell in love with someone who didn’t want me—until I headed to the airport.

Dana, Zoe, and Robbie were able to book a flight that arrived when I could come get them after my early Friday game. So now I’m waiting here staring at the huge elaborately painted guitars on Austin-Bergstrom Airport’s baggage claim carousels. I worry about recognizing these strangers who are family, as well as being distracted by someone recognizing me when they descend the escalator.

After I’d responded to Dana’s text, things progressed quickly. Her plan was to bring Zoe and Robbie to Austin for a super quick trip the day after Thanksgiving, and wanted to take them to our Saturday game, after which they’d fly home late that night.

So here I lurk. I actually wouldn’t mind being recognized and showing off for these people whose motives I still question. But then I think of the kids being put out there on social media, and the ramifications of my fame are still new enough that I don’t know what effect that would have. Instead, I lean against the wall to mitigate my height, my hood up, and my face down toward my phone.

There they come. Dana appears serene, no eye flicks searching for me, no twitching hands about meeting me or bringing the kids all this way on her own. Damn. I’m reluctantly impressed.

I stride forward as they reach the bottom of the escalator and call their names.

Dana smiles and does a half wave as Robbie flies off the last step of the escalator toward me.

I crouch to greet him as he skids to a stop in front of me.

“Holy—” he glances back at his mother. “It’s really you.”

I grin. “In the flesh. And it’s really you. You’re a great hockey player.”

“How do you know? If mom told you that, it doesn’t count. She’s kinda bi-bi-”

“Biased?”

“Yeah, that.” He sighs.

“Nope. I saw you play.” I’d already decided to come clean about this. I hoped my explanation for not introducing myself will hold up for both these kids.

Zoe and their mom have caught up to Robbie now and frown at me.

“The day after you guys came to my game in Chicago. I had a rental car to visit my teammates, but I wanted to see you skate like you watched me. So I drove out. Zoe was there, doing homework I think.” I earn points for that, as she darts a “see, I told you” glance at her mother.

“Why didn’t you come talk to me? Man, my friends would have flipped ,” Robbie says.

“Well, first, I didn’t know you knew who I was. And second, your coaches would have flipped out with a strange adult coming in to try to talk to you. Safety first.”

Dana nods and I hope I’m in the clear, until she says, “Or you could have reached out on Instagram.”

Zoe snorts a laugh, muttering behind a fist, “She shoots, she scores.”

I mock frown at her before standing to hold out my hand to Dana. “It’s nice to meet you. Welcome to Austin.”

I’d chosen my words carefully as I’m not entirely sure yet if it’s nice to have them here. But she bats my hand away and steps in. “Nope. I’m a hugger, and we’re family.”

Then her arms are around me. I freeze for a second before loosely returning the hug.

I catch Zoe’s expression over her mom’s shoulder. She’s still smirking at me. I glance around for phone cameras then stick my tongue out at her. She snorts.

“Do you have luggage?” I ask.

Dana shakes her head. “Just the roller bag and backpacks, since we’re only here one night.”

“Great. My car’s this way.” We’d agreed that they could use my car or rideshares for their short stay. I would catch a ride to the game with Jack.

At the hotel, Robbie says he wants to see my house so we all pile back into the car after I give Jack a heads up we’re coming. The kids brought bathing suits in case the hotel had a pool, but overnight the fickle Austin weather has turned too cold even for Indiana natives.

We have dinner reservations in a couple of hours and I arranged a tour of the stadium, at least the parts that are open for the holiday weekend. In the meantime, Robbie is in the kitchen quizzing Jack on his reasons for becoming a defenseman, Zoe has her face pointed at her phone but I’m pretty sure she’s listening to all of us, and Dana and I talk youth hockey.

She studiously does not bring up my father, and while I’m curious about her—and perhaps more importantly, Robbie’s—experience with him, I don’t want anyone to believe I care what he does or where he is, so I don’t ask.

Dana excuses herself to use the bathroom and get a drink, and I look over to find Zoe staring at me with narrowed eyes.

I ask her, “Can I get you anything?”

She shakes her head, tilting it. “What’s up with you and Frank?”

“Nothing.” My voice is flat at the reference to my father.

“Why?”

“You should ask him that.”

She glances away. Then turns back. “I’m asking you.”

“I don’t know what your family…dynamic…is like. Things may have changed, so I don’t want to influence your relationships”—I circle a hand to include the three of them. “Suffice it to say, he and I didn’t see eye to eye on the importance of hockey to me, or whether it could be a career.”

Her brows raise. “And now you’re laughing all the way to the bank, huh?”

Ah, the joys of a teen’s unfiltered connection between brain and mouth. But I can’t help it. I smirk and wink. “Something like that.”

She laughs. No stifled snort, no half-smile or smirk. Outright laughter.

I’m enthralled. When she laughs, she’s transformed into a beautiful young woman, rather than a bordering-on-sullen teen. Holy shit, the guys at UT are going to be all over her. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter what any of their situations are with my father. I’m worried about my sister. “Hey. Before I forget, let me give you my number so you have it when you’re here. If you need anything— anything —you call me. It’ll be a safe space, no reporting back to Dana. You hear me?”

Her eyes widen. “Dude. You don’t even know me.”

“You heard your mama. We’re family. And there’s only one way to get to know you—to spend more time with you. Now gimme.” I gesture for her phone.

She hands it over without a single snarky comment, a smile playing at the edges of her mouth.

We’re back to staring at our phones in silence by the time Dana returns.

* * * *

Unsure of their tastes in food, I take my newfound family to Roaring Fork, reveling in the fact that I have relatives visiting like a fucking normal hockey player. The north location of the restaurant has a fantastic patio, but I’ve been warned repeatedly that the weather this time of year is uncertain, so I booked indoors. Given that it’s now raining as well as cold, I’m glad I did.

Saylet sends us all an email and text reminding us that roads are slippery because the sun and heat bring the oil to the surface, and the wind through the underpasses means that rain might freeze on the bridges.

A couple of the guys joke on a group thread that she should realize almost every last one of us has spent more time driving in snow and ice in any given year than she’s seen her whole life. Buzz shuts them down immediately, though, with a text reminding us to respect management and thank people when they’re trying to help. He may not be our captain, but he’s definitely a team leader, even at a relatively young age.

As we order, I spy a crab cake on the menu that Christina would love, and my breathing hitches. For the most part, traversing the stepping stones of getting to know these family members without twisting a metaphoric ankle has kept my mind off her for a few hours. I slept like crap last night unsure of how she was doing, so it was lucky that Murphy was on this afternoon’s roster. I hope it’s better tonight or my performance in tomorrow’s game could be affected.

My lips twist at my thoughts, and I cover them with my napkin. There’s no use wishing she was here to celebrate this relationship she helped me navigate. Even if we’d still been together, she’d never have come out to meet my family as my girlfriend. She was always cemented in it being casual. Now I know why, but I don’t have to like it.

As the younger two argue over what dessert to share, Dana turns to me, twirling her wine glass. “We don’t have to talk about him if you prefer, but I’d like to tell you one thing.”

Clearly, “him” is my father. I grab my almost-empty beer and sit back silently.

Dana glances at me, her wine glass, the kids, then back at me. Her voice is lower when she speaks. “We’ve been having issues since Robbie started hockey. He’d mentioned you when we married, but as a college kid. When Robbie wanted to play, though, your role in the AHL came out. He was—” she clears her throat.

“Dismissive?” I offer.

She nods and continues. “Anyway, when I looked you up, I was impressed. For someone to have a dream and then make it reality, to play—no, perform—at that level, is incredible. It’s someone I want as a role model for my children.”

I nearly choke on my own spit. With my beer empty, I reach for water, needing a minute. Robbie and Zoe are both silent now, staring at us.

“Thank you,” I mumble into my water.

“I’ve moved out,” Dana starts.

Zoe clears her throat.

“Excuse me, we’ve moved out,” Dana smiles at her daughter. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need you to understand that I wasn’t fully aware of the divide between you. I should have been, and I’m sorry for not asking for more details sooner. But most of all, I—we—don’t think like he does.”

Both kids are staring at me intently.

I still have a lump in my throat from her words, and her last statements didn’t help it. But nor do I want her to leave her husband over something that is ancient history. Can I ask that in front of the children? Zoe, maybe, but I’m not sure about Robbie. I dart a glance from Dana to him and back.

She smiles. “It’s all right. You can say anything, although I prefer you edit your word choice for profanity.”

Zoe smirks.

“I’m fine. I’ve moved on, and as you said, I’m living my dream. I hope the issues between him and me didn’t cause your rift.”

Zoe’s eyebrows raise. I need to get better acquainted with this girl, so I can understand her reactions and facial expressions. I’d give a lot to know what’s going through her head right now.

Dana responds, “That’s kind of you. I honestly can’t say if the knowledge of what he did in the past alone would have caused this, but when he started doing the same with Robbie, and even with Zoe given her choice of major—”

I glance at her.

“Art,” she says with a wide grin.

Ah . Dear old dad must have loved that one. I snort a laugh.

Dana continues. “It showed a pattern of inflexibility, of lack of support of children’s dreams. All of it reflects poorly on him as a father. I mean, look at your success. Even now, he still can’t admit he’s wrong. I want you in our lives and I want Zoe and Robbie to follow their dreams—as long as I’m not supporting them beyond university.”

She slides a sly glance at the kids and they roll their eyes. Apparently, this part has been covered before. “We’re still talking. If he can be more supportive, then great. Otherwise, he may end up lonely.”

It’s my turn to raise my brows. I consider her statements and mama bear tone, and something about her protectiveness of me, beyond that of Robbie, when she had never even met me, starts a bloom of warmth in my chest. While I’d always blamed my father for his short-sightedness about hockey, I had also taken his lack of love as a statement about me. For the first time, now someone else points out how wrong his actions were, the burden of feeling unlovable, of condemning myself for his abandonment, eases.

I swallow hard. It’d be just my luck to be caught on camera by a fan crying in a restaurant. “I agree. I don’t want that for any of you, either. And I already know I want you all in my life.”

It’s Dana’s turn to get misty, and being a woman, she allows the tears to form. “Thank you.”

Zoe of course is a hardened case, and just grunts. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Cool! Does that mean you’ll get us tickets to more games? And come to mine, and—” Robbie’s voice is cut off by the rest of us laughing openly at his eagerness.

“Yeah, bud. That’s what that means. And your sister will have family nearby when she comes to college.”

Dana beams at that idea, and I yearn again for Christina to be here. If not for her help, I wouldn’t have opened my heart to these people who don’t seem to want anything more from me than me. Well, and a few tickets in the case of the six-year-old.

* * * *

Saturday morning Coach agrees to let me to bring Robbie to the morning skate. The defensive coach has a son Robbie’s age and keeps him close, answering his unending stream of questions with a level of patience I wouldn’t have expected, given how surly he is with our defensive line.

Dana and Zoe have arranged for a walkthrough of her dorm and hope to hang out in a café by campus to get a feel for student life. If Zoe was more outgoing, I’d have suggested she ask a few girls in the dorm for advice or tips, but perhaps Dana will do that. Hopefully, the teen will at least keep her phone tucked away.

Our skate is quick. After the tour I’d arranged, I bring Robbie back to the house to eat something and chill before the game. For better or worse, a young brother obsessed with hockey keeps my mind off Christina. Mostly. If she was here, she’d be giving me thumbs up at their enthusiasm and grinning when hugs are forthcoming. She’d be almost as happy as I’m about the wonder of having a family again.

She’s the one who chose to cut herself off, though. Okay, okay, cut herself off early. Part of me just wants to get to the Holiday Ball so I can see her, touch her, dance with her one last time. But then what? She’s right. I want kids and she doesn’t, or daren’t. It’s only been two days and I miss her more than I would have ever imagined. I never thought about what would happen after the holiday thing, because I assumed I’d convince her to stay with me. I knew I wanted long term even before I admitted to myself that I was in love with her. But her revelation about children has changed everything.

Except missing her. Whenever I’ve dated someone in the past who wasn’t willing to move for hockey, start a family, or save rather than going on the next vacation or buying the next whatever-brand bag, I dropped her and moved on. I should be packed and out the door emotionally, ready to hang with Jack at Chasers and chase. Not puck bunnies, as I’ve never done that, but women.

Instead, I’m moping and barely managing not to text her details of my family’s visit.

Crap. Being in love makes everything different. I couldn’t envision our breakup after the party because I can’t envision my future without her. I love her. I want to be with her forever, sliding takeout onto fine china and dancing as best we can when we’re eighty. Well, she’d be eighty-six, ha.

Now what? I still want a family. I want to spend time with my children and offer them encouragement like I yearned for from my father. I want someone like Dana who takes the initiative to ensure her children’s happiness, even when there are roadblocks. All of which I envisioned Christina doing until our last conversation.

Robbie tugs on my sleeve. He’s been talking to me while I zoned out. Still reeling from searching for a way to make things work with Christina, I do my best to shove all thoughts of her out of my head and enjoy the time I have with him. While Dana says we’re family and Zoe will be here, who’s to say that they won’t change their minds along the way, just as my father did? Even Robbie, who has a severe case of hero worship, will be easily distracted by other things when I’m out of sight, putting me out of mind.

A new resolve steals over me and I throw my shoulders back. Saint pointed out that I needed to establish trust with the team off the ice. I can do that with my family, too. I’ve already started. I’m not seventeen anymore. They’ll have a harder time getting rid of me if they decide to. More, I need to learn to trust others, as he pointed out. Dana has given every indication that she chooses family over…whatever differences she and my father have.

As for Christina, she’s super close to her family, to the extent of being in business together. And while her trust in sharing her illness was slower than I’d like, she did trust me with it, and had told me about her dream of a dance school for underprivileged kids before that. Now I need to have faith that her confidences are a result of deeper feelings that I can coax out to overcome her fears.

Saint also told me to figure out what I can’t live without. I have a family. Here, in front of me, asking me to check his goalie stance for the dozenth time. There will be children in her dance school that I can mentor. What I need, what I can’t live without, is Christina.

First, though, I need to refocus on hockey and win this afternoon’s game in front of everyone I care about, and—hard as it is to fathom—who care about me.

The team isn’t sure what to expect Saturday afternoon, given the nasty turn in weather Friday night. Texans aren’t known for going out in inclement weather, particularly for a new sport in town. So while this is a holiday weekend, and today’s and tomorrow’s home games have been sold out since pre-season, we’re cautious about hoping for a big turnout.

But when we skate out for warmups, the crowd is already sizeable. Kids line the glass to watch us and try to interact, way more than we’re used to seeing at night games. Some hold signs. Robbie’s wearing my number. Zoe hangs back, too cool to press against the boards. When I wave to Robbie, Buzz catches the gesture. He skates over, beckoning the guys. We all do a loop around our half of the ice, trailing a glove along it for the kids to high five. The Winnipeg Bucks see us and fall into step, both teams circling the rink.

I do everything I can to avoid looking at my seats to confirm if Christina is there already. But when we return to warmups, I can’t resist showing off. As always, I start by ensuring I avoid the dreaded goalie injury, a groin pull. Just in case she’s there, not that I’m thinking of her at all , I make sweet, sweet love to the ice in my hip stretches, rolling through the moves rather than fucking the ice like she says I do sometimes. As I head to the net, I force myself to put her and my newfound family out of my mind. My head needs to be one hundred percent in the game. Using every vestige of self-discipline that got me here, I revert to my normal routine, running the game tape through my head one more time.

As I weave through my teammates, the guys thump me on the back.

“Get ’em, Prancer.”

“Thanks for the tips, man.”

From Jack, “I got your back. I’m on #16 like white on rice.”

We were all nervous about Winnipeg’s first line winger, whose slapshot is vicious, the fastest in the league. In the spirit of trusting my team, I’d admitted my fears about stopping those while we analyzed the Bucks’ game tape.

Their comments buoy me up, my blades barely skimming the ice, warmed by the acceptance and respect. Saint was right, I feel much more a part of a family now than I did at the start of the season. This sense of belonging might be addictive.

However, now’s not the time for philosophical thoughts. I want to show a certain team owner my grit, determination, and competitiveness. Oh, and Greg, too.

For the next sixty minutes, I zero in on that black disk. #16 is in my peripheral vision, but Jack is there too, as promised. I’m on fire, determined to prove myself to Christina, my family, and the world.

An NHL game usually includes around thirty shots on goal. I hit thirty saves late in the second period before one slips by me. That stupid fast slapshot got me finally. #16 smirks, I glower, and the teams face off for another two minutes of play before the period ends.

In the locker room, we get a pep talk from Coach, and it turns out Saint is beating himself up for a missed shot on goal.

I tell him, “That was a legit good shot, just a better save. Sadly mine was the other way around. But I won’t dwell on it if you don’t. Let’s go out there and finish this.”

He nods, and we’re back with a killer attitude. He doesn’t make another shot, but Mattie does, and we finish the game with a win 2-1.