Page 6

Chapter 6

AMBER

I’m enjoying sitting in on team practices. I’ve been to plenty of games, but practices are different. The way they’re constantly shuffling the team around, changing the dynamics of who spends time where. And there’s a lot of down time for the players, too. Most drills come with built-in breaks for the guys waiting at the back of the line for their turn, and the scrimmages put only half of the players on the ice at a time.

Dr. Stone has been very helpful in identifying the drills and what their purpose is. I know a fair amount about hockey, but I like having the proper terminology to refer to instead of saying “that wrist move” or “the thing where they move the puck along the boards.” It’s gone a long way in making my notes sound more professional, as well as, deepening my understanding of the game.

I’m supposed to be paying attention to the team as a whole, noticing the way they interact with each other and the way they behave with different coaches and feedback. But my eyes keep being pulled to Zack. He’s one of the taller guys on the team, and he skates with complete mastery over the ice. He never stumbles, never trips. Every move is intentional and powerful.

I also can’t help but notice how the other guys almost seem to orbit around him, like he has his own gravity. The team is constantly looking to him to make decisions and lead them.

“Remind me again who the team captains are?” I ask Dr. Stone, my eyes fixed on the ice.

He flips to his roster and reads the names aloud. “Jason Scott is the captain, and Clint Harris and Zack Colt are the alternates.”

Interesting. It makes sense; a lot of the players clearly default to Zack to set an example. And I remember Jason from yesterday. The guy is well-rounded and definitely has his act together. But the other players don’t gravitate to Jason the same way they do to Zack. I make a note of my thoughts, wondering if the coaches would consider giving Zack more of a defined leadership role.

Practice starts to wind down, and the players exit the rink. Dr. Stone packs up his belongings. “Ready for some more assessments?”

“I sure am.” I finish my note and put my tablet away. When I look up from my bag, Zack is standing in front of us, and I stumble. “Um, hi.”

“See anything you like?” From anyone else, it would sound like a pickup line. But from Zack, with the hard set of his jaw and his narrowed eyes, it feels more like a challenge, like a test I’m not ready for— and can’t afford to fail.

“We’ve made some observations that we believe could be useful in getting to the root cause of the team’s issues.” Which would be impressive… if it were even remotely true.

After just one practice and only a few interviews, we are still just getting our feet under us. We’ve identified a few problems with certain individuals, sure, but it would take us more than two days to make any real progress.

Zack squints at me, like he can tell I’m stretching the truth. But rather than calling me on it, he asks, “Are you doing more interviews today?”

“Yes, with whoever we didn’t get to yesterday.” Dr. Stone inserts himself into the conversation.

Zack’s eyes flicker to my colleague for a moment before returning to me. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

For an instant, I melt. The way his voice softens when he looks down at me, his blue eyes locked on mine… it’s too much. Then I blink a few times and straighten up, making sure my professional mask is back on. “Thank you. If you could encourage everyone to be open in their individual sessions with us, that would be helpful.”

“You got it.” The corner of his mouth twitches into what I would almost call a smile. He knows I’m not really talking about the rest of the team. Then he’s gone, heading to the locker room with everybody else, and I feel like I can breathe again. I let out a sigh, quietly so that Dr. Stone doesn’t hear, and retreat to the office.

Today we’re actually getting through the rest of the defensemen. Jack, Cal, Derek, and Alec might be young, but they seem open and eager to hear what we have to say. The most recent season was the first professional season for most of them, and they’re all hoping to improve from their less than successful beginnings.

Alec’s interview ends, and I’m finally feeling hopeful about our prospects with the team. “I really think we might be able to make a difference here,” I confide in Dr. Stone. “Those last few guys were really open, receptive! I think they really want to learn from us.”

Dr. Stone chuckles. “All four of them were Canadian. That might have something to do with it.”

“Really?” I check their files, and sure enough, the last four defensemen all hailed from the Great White North. “How about that!” I laugh too.

Dr. Stone’s phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s my wife.”

“Go ahead!” I gesture for him to take the call and busy myself on my tablet so he won’t think I’m listening in.

Dr. Stone spins his chair away from me so that he’s facing the wall. “Hi, honey. Everything all right?” He pauses for a moment, gripping the armrest tightly. “Okay. Calm down, it’s going to be okay.” Dr. Stone glances over his shoulder at me, his brow furrowed.

I cock my head curiously, and Dr. Stone looks away as he continues. “Take a deep breath, Lisa. In, and out. You said you’re already at the hospital?”

The hospital? Geez. I hope everything’s okay. My hands go still on my keyboard, giving up the pretense that I’m not trying to figure out what’s going on.

“Okay. I can be there in a few hours. Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll be right there. I love you too.” Dr. Stone hangs up and blows out a deep breath. “So that was Lisa.”

I’m practically vibrating with anxiety at this point. “What happened? Is she okay?”

“She’s just a little scared.” Dr. Stone removes his glasses and rubs a hand over his face. “Our daughter fell and broke her leg on the playground. It looks like she’s going to need surgery. It appears to be broke in two places and one is near her growth plate.”

“Oh, dear God.” I cover my mouth with my hands. “You need to get back there right away!”

“I know.” Dr. Stone sighs. “Do you think you can handle this assignment on your own?”

“I can probably hold down the fort until you get back,” I say hesitantly, trying to reassure him while still being honest. “I mean, it would be my first time working on an assignment solo, my first time taking the lead. But as long as you’re not gone for too long, it should be fine.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not sure how long I’ll have to be gone.” Dr. Stone starts packing up his desk while he talks. “You remember that our son has special needs, so Lisa is pretty swamped already. And with Emily’s leg in a cast, she’ll need extra support. She is only five, after all. We’ll both need to be home until Emily’s leg is better.”

“Okay.” I nod slowly, taking this in. “Well, don’t worry about me. I’ll make it work. You need to go be with your family.”

“Thanks for understanding, Amber. I have all the confidence in the world that you’ll be able to do a fine job on your own.” Dr. Stone finishes packing his bag and slings it over his shoulder. “I’ll see if Coach Green is available to drive you home in the evenings. I don’t want you walking home alone.”

“I appreciate the thought.” The Blades facility is a little outside the main part of the little town of Jefferson, away from the residential areas. It’s only about a half-mile back to our apartment, but the road is pretty isolated. I’m sure I’d be fine, but Dr. Stone is a little old-fashioned about this sort of thing.

With that, Dr. Stone exits the office in a rush. I barely have time to take a deep breath before Mark Shepherd, my next interview, pokes his head in. “Was that Dr. Stone leaving?” he asks. “Do I still have to do this if he’s gone?”

I groan internally. “Dr. Stone had a family emergency, but I’m a Doctor of Sports Psychology as well, and I assure you I am well trained in athletic mental performance coaching, too. Please come in and have a seat.” I give Mark my most winning smile as he slouches into the room.

The remaining seven interviews of the day get progressively easier. I did watch Dr. Stone run the previous meetings, so I know what questions to ask, and my confidence grows with each player I speak to. There’s still a lot of resistance to overcome with some of the guys, but that’s a problem for tomorrow.

My meetings are all done, so I pack up my things for the day. Then I hear a knock at the door and turn to see Zack leaning in the doorway, his arms folded.

“Can I help you?” I turn away from him to finish packing up my bag. Why is he here? Is it just to drive me crazy?

“Coach sent me to walk you home,” Zack says, his voice flat.

I grab my bag and step up to the doorframe, looking up to meet his eyes. “I thought Coach Green was taking me home.”

“Coach Green has paperwork.” Zack tilts his head and regards me nonchalantly, then teases, “You’d be safer with a player, anyway.”

I hike my bag higher on my shoulder and push past him, heading out the door. Zack follows. “It’s not that far…I am certainly capable of walking by myself,” I protest, but I know he’s coming with me whether I like it or not.

He catches up to me by the time we reach the outside doors, and he holds it open for me. I roll my eyes, but step through anyway. It’s only mid-afternoon, and the sun is high and hot. I immediately start to sweat under all the layers I have to wear to stay warm at the rink.

Zack and I walk together in silence for about a block before the heat becomes unbearable. “Here, can you hold this for a second?” I don’t wait for him to answer before thrusting my bag into his hands. His hand brushes mine—calloused and warm—and I suddenly forget how hot the sun is.

He stands there looking surprised, but doesn’t protest, which is saying something for Zack Colt. I remove my blazer and roll up the sleeves of the turtleneck sweater underneath, “Ahh. Much better.”

I hold out my hand for my bag, and Zack’s fingers brush mine when he passes it back to me. Warmth fills my body that has nothing to do with the summer sun. Our eyes lock, but Zack quickly drops his gaze. “C’mon,” he says gruffly, walking away from me.

I jog a few steps to catch up, and we don’t speak again for the rest of the walk. I keep sneaking glances at him out of the corner of my eye, very aware of how close he is. But if he doesn’t want to talk, I won’t force him to.

It startles me to remember that it's been ten years since our ugly, painful breakup, yet the feelings are still right there in front of me, the love and the hate.

I felt so dismissed by him breaking up with me, and ultimately, angry and humiliated enough to write that horrible, scathing article about him being shallow and self serving putting his hockey above anything else.

Yeah, I didn't use his name…but I made it perfectly clear it was about Zack.

We were both so young and careless — after loving each other so much, we just threw it all away in one fiery day. Two broken hearts.

What's worse, neither of us did any damage control. We just glared at each other when and if we ever dared look at each other the rest of our senior year. Then we went our separate ways to college.

I was so hurt and angry at Zack for choosing a hockey tournament over being Homecoming King with me at all the festivities. We had done everything together for almost a year. We were "that" couple.

In looking back, I realize it was not the smartest move to ask him in the heat of the moment, "Are you breaking up with me?" said as an ultimatum. He just stood there frozen, and said, " I guess I am." And it was over. My brother was furious with him and I was truly brokenhearted.

How could that one exchange change everything between us for ten years. I hated him for ruining in moment all of that we had together. I was embarrassed, hurt, and so very immature.

I certainly have grown and changed since those days. I find myself wondering how he's changed, if at all.

One thing is sure, as much as I detest Harrison Zachery Colt the reckless kid, I cannot deny the intense attraction I have for Zack Colt, the grumpy man I am walking home with this evening.

We reach my temporary apartment, and Zack leaves me at the door, quickly muttering, “Bye.”

“See you tomorrow,” I blurt out just as quickly. Instead of going into my apartment right away, I hang back and watch him as he continues down the sidewalk. But then he looks back, and I have to pretend to busy myself with the lock on the door.

I think he caught me, though, because I see just the hint of a smile as he turns away.

I can’t afford to be distracted by Zack right now. With Dr. Stone gone indefinitely, everything is about to change at work—and fast. Starting tonight, I’m going to have to use every bit of mental performance coaching I’ve ever taught someone else… on myself.