Page 48

M ax unloaded the last box of full-sized candy bars into the massive black plastic cauldron in his entryway. He and Remi had gone all-out with decorations this Halloween. Spooky music, fog machine, spider webs and, orange lights. Remi was dressed up as a dog, she had floppy ears, and a brown body suit of sorts that she had glued spots onto—she looked equally sexy and cute. Max decided to return to his roots and wear his cat ears, this time allowing Remi to tack a fluffy black cat tail onto his dark Levi jeans. It was, he decided, his new tradition. He was slowly replacing his superstitions with them, one by one.

“Do you think we’ll get many trick-or-treaters?” Max shouted from the hall.

Remi met him there, her phone in her hand buzzing three times before she clicked the home screen dark and pressed up on tiptoe to kiss him. “Are you kitten me?” she said. “We have full-sized candy bars. We’ll be a hit.”

“Purrrrrfect,” he said back, doing his best cat paw hand motion.

Max clicked the switch that turned on the fog machine, the cackling pumpkins, the ghost that played eerie music, and the orange lights Remi had wrapped around the mini palm trees.

“And now we wait,” he said with a huff. Remi leaned up to kiss him again before pushing him away quickly towards the living room.

“Go turn on the movie, and I’ll get the junk food,” she said, looking back down at her phone.

“Okay, but if we get a trick-or-treater, I want to be there to hand out the first candy bar,” he said, looking over at her only to catch her on her phone, again.

“Mmmhmm,” she said, still looking down at her phone, seemingly distracted as she loaded up the wooden snack board with all of their favorite things.

“You know,” Max said, “you look super good dressed like a cactus .”

She sent another text. “Mmmhmm, it turned out cute,” she agreed absently.

“We should watch a Christmas movie instead,” he said, just to see what she would say.

“ Scream right? We decided on Scream ?” she looked up momentarily only to be pulled back to her phone ringing. “Be right back, I have to take this call.”

Max didn’t know what could have made her so distracted tonight of all nights. It’s not like anyone was cleaning houses at this hour, so it couldn’t be work-related.

He shouted out to no one, “Do you mind if I put hockey on for now?”

Remi didn’t respond.

He clicked on the TV; the Sports Center pre-game was on. The announcers stated there was news of big trade deals happening. Max flopped down on the couch, his tail creating a weird bump under his butt, so he lifted his hips and pulled it out from under him when he heard the doorbell chime. He jumped up so fast his vision blurred, but not wanting to miss the first kids of the night, he grabbed his cane and headed for the door.

“Rem, we got trick-or-treaters,” he called out excitedly.

He looked for her in his bedroom quickly, then knocked on the bathroom door. She was nowhere to be found.

“Rem, you’re going to miss the first trick-or-treaters of the night,” he shouted, and the doorbell rang again.

He couldn’t put it off any longer, he pulled the door open, and to his surprise, standing in front of him was Remi, and at her feet sat the tiniest golden retriever puppy he had ever seen.

“Happy Halloween,” she said, letting go of the black leash. The puppy bolted straight for Max, covering his face in puppy kisses.

“Remi, what is this?” he asked stupidly. He couldn’t even comprehend what was happening.

“Well, it’s a puppy, Max,” she said sarcastically.

He picked up the pup and felt his shirt go warm and wet along his chest. He pulled the puppy back to notice the dog was pissing.

“And,” Remi said laughing, “he seems to be so excited to meet you that he did a little happy pee on you.”

“Is it… Is it mine?” he asked, sincerely shocked and completely unbothered by the puppy piss on his shirt.

She leaned forward, pressed her finger to his nose, and said, “Ding-ding-ding.”

He pulled her into a hug, the small puppy wriggling between their bodies, excitedly licking them both wherever its little mouth could reach.

“It’s a boy. He’s going to train with the same person who trained Shepard. He’s going to be your guide dog one day,” Remi said.

Max’s hand came to rest on her lower back, pulling her against his body, his forehead pressed to hers. “I love you, Remi,” he whispered, and just as he went to kiss her the doorbell rang again.

“Trick-or-treaters,” he said, the tiny dog letting out the cutest little bark he had ever heard. His heart raced, but he was okay. This was okay.

Remi rushed forward. “I’ll get it, you hold on to the pup,” she said, and before she opened the door, she pulled out her phone and before Max could process what came next time seemed to speed up in a blur of emotions.

The door swung open, and again, what he found in front of him wasn’t trick-or-treaters at all. What he saw in front of him was better than anything he could have imagined.

Sitting on his doorstep, surrounded by fake fog and the sounds of Halloween, was the Stanley Cup.

Max felt all the blood drain from his face as his jaw hit practically the floor. He looked at the puppy, and then at Remi who was very obviously recording him, then back at the shiny silver trophy.

He started to walk towards it, then paused. “Rem, is it real?” he asked.

“It’s real. And if you look closely, it’s got your name on it.”

He handed her the puppy, and right as he moved forward to touch it, to hoist it, his teammates jumped out from the sides of the house.

“Surprise!” they shouted.

Carter smiled at Max and gave him a nod of approval. “Well, what are you waiting for, Millsy, hoist that mutha-fuckin’ Cup!”

Everyone cheered and Max, without hesitation, took the Stanley Cup into his hands and lifted it over his head. The puppy barked excitedly as Remi began to cry. The boys cheered all around him, as a group of kids asked if they could still get some candy; Brody handed them all king size Snickers bars before shooing them away.

Max blinked.

He blinked again.

It was real. It was his.

This was going to be okay.

His teammates poured into the house, and one by one Remi handed them cat ears to wear. Somehow this had gone from handing out Halloween candy to a Stanley Cup celebration.

“How did you do it?” Max asked his captain once he had finally broke free from pictures with the Cup, and the puppy, and the puppy in the cup.

“It was all her idea,” Carter said, hinting at Remi. “She hit me up at your press conference,” and Max remembered seeing the two of them huddled in the corner of the waiting room that night.

“She asked you to do this?” Max asked.

“No. She did her research. She came to us and told us about the appeal process to have your name added. We all signed a petition and started the appeal the next day. It had to go through all the board members, and we almost got denied, but in the end we won. You won. You’re a Stanley Cup winner, Millsy.”

Max brought Carter in for a hug, then shouted, “Alexa, play a punk mix.” The music blasted through the house, and it was officially a party.

Trick-or-treaters came and went, and each of his teammates took turns handing out candy, with Brody getting caught giving out more than one candy bar to anyone dressed in a Star Wars costume.

Remi called Max over, the Stanley Cup sitting on the countertop, next to it was a bag of pretzels and hummus. He knew right away what she was getting at.

“Should we?” he asked.

“You know it,” she said.

“Thank you for this,” he said, leaning in to kiss her with his eyes closed tight and his heart full and alive.

Carter came over with the puppy in one hand, a beer in the other, his cat ears lopsided. “So, what are you naming this guy?” he asked.

Max took the dog and sat him in the Stanley Cup. The little guy slid down inside, and just as Max went to grab him, his little floppy ears reappeared as his tiny paws held on to the lip of the cup.

“Stanley. I’m going to call him Stanley Pup,” Max said.

They all cheered again. The music blasted, and people laughed and celebrated. Max ate a donut out of the cup, then the hummus and pretzels with Remi, and then the guys suggested some puppy kibble for Stanley. The TV played in the background, but no one heard it. And no one recognized the picture of the player in the corner of the TV screen as the subtitles read: Liam Harvey of the LA Knights is officially headed to the San Jose Threshers as both teams have come to an agreement with his trade.

THE END