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MIKHAIL

T he night only gets better when several of my teammates and their families join us for our Christmas-slash-engagement party. The adults are gathered around the fireplace out on the deck and their kids are inside doing crafts and playing games. The Vegas Crush game schedule this year has us playing on the front and back end of Christmas, so not many of my teammates were headed out of the area for the actual holiday. I put out the word for Tyler and Viktor to invite any of the team who could make it.

“Congratulations, man,” Aiden says, clapping me on the back with a grin. He stands next to his date—the same girl he brought to Cal and Billie's engagement party a few weeks ago. They met while grocery shopping, of all things. I sense that she's way different from Aiden's usual one-nighters. I’m happy for him. It’s about time my wild-child buddy settled a bit.

“Thanks, Aiden.” I smile at them both. “Glad you could be here.” I glance around, taking in the warmth and friendship all around me. Former Captain Evan is here with his wife Holly and their three kids, along with Georg, Pam, and their two. Viktor, Scarlett, and their two small boys are here too, as well as the newly engaged Boris and Talia. Tyler, Zoya, and even her parents visiting from Russia have come to celebrate with us. My dad and Zoya’s dad are overseeing a rousing game of hall hockey for my nephew Roman and Georg and Evan’s older kids using the play equipment my dad bought at Dick’s Sporting Goods yesterday.

It's a gathering of my Vegas Crush brothers and their families, all here to congratulate Reagan and me on our engagement and our new home. Zoya, who’s studying to be an art teacher, has organized games and crafts for the kids supervised by the grandmas, who look like they’re having as much fun as the kiddos making treats to set out for Santa’s reindeer tonight along with personal gingerbread houses they can eat now. They’re even doing a pinata later and it’s hilarious because it’s a Santa pinata gonna get beat to death. Someone had a dark sense of humor at the pinata factory. But it’s also awesome. I’m so lucky to have the support of all these wonderful people celebrating with us.

“Alright, everyone!” My sister, Daniella calls out, gesturing for us to gather around. “It's time for the white elephant gift exchange. Take a number from the basket if you brought a gift.”

We all take a number and settle around on the outdoor loungers. I have Reagan cuddled between my legs with her back on my chest. She’s admiring her ring, sparkling against the many lights outside and the flames in the fireplace. “That looks really fucking beautiful on your hand,” I whisper in her ear.

She turns her head to kiss me. “I know.”

The game proceeds as the stealing and swap negotiations start up. I’m utterly content with Reagan in my lap with my ring on her finger and couldn’t care less what gift I end up with in this ridiculous game. I have the best gift in my arms already.

But one particular item does catch my attention—a toilet plunger. Surprisingly, it ends up being a hot item and gets stolen twice, eventually landing in Aiden's possession. He holds it up like a golden chalice, victorious in sealing the win.

Ha! If given the chance, I would've tried to steal it too. “Toilet plungers are necessary equipment to have around a new house,” I say under my breath.

Viktor, standing nearby, overhears me and smirks. “Mikhail, don't worry. I brought two toilet plungers tonight—one for the game, and one as a housewarming gift for you,” he says in his deadpan Russian accent. “You will need it for taking care of shit in your new house, you will see.”

The group roars with laughter, and I can't help but join in. “Thanks, Vik. I do appreciate such a thoughtful present.” My friends are truly awesome.

After the final white elephant gift has found an owner, we move inside for the festive spread laid out on the long dining table. I can only marvel at how seamlessly everything has come together tonight. I have to dream up something special for my parents and sisters for organizing all of this. Maybe I can send them on a holiday somewhere warm with a beach.

“Brother dear, did you see the Dear Santa column in the paper today?” Daniella asks with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

I shake my head but am instantly curious. Could my letter to Dear Santa have actually made it into the paper?

“Read it aloud, please,” Reagan says, her hand finding mine under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze.

The room goes silent as everyone prepares to listen. I squeeze Reagan’s hand right back, pushing down the anxiety rushing in.

“Alright.” Daniella clears her throat dramatically before beginning to read.

Dear Santa. I'm planning to propose to my amazing girlfriend, who just happens to be a wedding planner. The problem is that she's seen it all, and I want to make our moment special and unique, something she'll remember forever. Do you have some good advice for me?

Mr. H.

Daniella rattles the paper for dramatic effect. “But listen to their response,” she says, her voice carrying over all the “awws” around the table.

Here at Dear Santa, we've never had a request even remotely as romantic as Mr. H's inquiry before. The fact that he was dedicated enough to write into this column and ask for advice on a romantic marriage proposal fitting enough for his wedding-planner love shows that Mr. H. already has enough game to get the job done right. Let us know when your wedding planner says yes, and we'd love to do a feature on your wedding story.

D.S.

Cheers break out around the table, and I feel an unexpected rush of pride flow through my veins. Glancing over at Reagan, her pretty eyes sparkle at me with so much love my heart might just bust outta my chest looking a lot like my new tattoo.

“My brother wrote into the Dear Santa column in desperation a few weeks back asking for advice on how to propose to Reagan.” Daniella beams at me. “Isn't he amazing?”

“Absolutely amazing,” Reagan agrees, her voice thick with emotion. “I can't believe you went to such lengths for me, Mr. Hockey.”

“Anything for my Warrior Princess.” I squeeze her hand again under the table and mean every word. But she knows that already.

“Raise a glass to Mikhail and Reagan, everyone!” Aiden gives the toast, lifting his glass high. As one, our family, friends, and teammates join him, their well-wishes and good cheer feel very warm and sincere.

I take a moment to commit the scene before me to memory—the twinkling lights and decorations strung up around the room, the comforting scents of Christmas in the air, and the way Reagan's hand fits so perfectly in mine. This is what home feels like—surrounded by people who care about us, celebrating our love and happiness.

As the cheers die down and conversation resumes, I can't help but think of my father. Our relationship has been a rocky one, marred by expectations and the weight of his great legacy. But tonight, with Reagan by my side, I feel like I've finally found my footing. I’m not just the son of “The Great Zelenka” anymore but my own man, forging my own path with the woman I love.

“Hey babe,” Reagan whispers, her sweet voice grounding me back to the present. “You okay?”

“Better than okay,” I assure her, pulling her in for a kiss. “Everything is exactly how I want it to be.”

And I know that this is just the very beginning of our beautiful journey together.

And they lived happily ever after.

Thank you for reading

Mr. Hockey’s Marry Christmas .

To find out how it all started for Mikhail and Reagan you must read Mr. Hockey, a Superhero Love Story if you haven’t already.