“Language, Livvy.” I sigh. “Have you told your mother what’s going on? She’s good with these kinds of things—talking to people. Social interaction. It’s not exactly my forte.”
“I know. Everyone annoys you.” She rolls her eyes. “Mom said to talk to you because you’re the one with the checkbook and resources. But I’m telling you, we can’t buy our way into a new training schedule, Dad.”
I snort, knowing it’s exactly what Kali would say.
I love Olivia more than anything else in my life, but she’s the result of a drunken one-night stand. The details are hazy, but the weeks leading up to the moment I invited Kali back to my place are as clear as day: the conversation with my head coach and the athletic trainer after the pain in my knee plagued me when I returned to the lineup post-surgery. The meeting with the team’s president and general manager who assessed my performance and said I was taking up a roster spot from someone healthier than me. Officially announcing my retirement from the NHL and the black hole I spiraled into, refusing to leave my apartment.
I saw myself as a failure. I didn’t know who I was without hockey, and I shut down. I cut out friends, family. The only time I ventured out was to go to a bar down the road from my place. I was wasted and met a woman who didn’t give a shit about my last name or the jersey I would never wear again.
One thing led to another. I panicked when Kali tracked me down on social media and told me she was pregnant. We talkedabout options, but at the end of the day, I knew the decision was hers.
Nine months later, Liv was born.
Kali and I tried dating. In the beginning, things were good between us. With no hockey, I was always home, and we were happy. Then, the disagreements started. We were exhausted all the time. We fought about everything: her wanting to go out for dinner. Me wanting to stay in. After six months, we decided we were much better as friends who co-parented their rambunctious as hell daughter than a couple who’d found their happily ever after.
We’re present in each other’s lives. We show up for Liv, and Kali still doesn’t care about my last name or the money I have. She’s never asked for anything. Never threatened to take me to court, and now she’s happily married to a dude named Bryant who collects Christmas ornaments and thinks I coach lacrosse.
He’s not a big sports guy.
“I’ll talk to some people at the arena who have daughters. And Liam. He takes skating lessons in the summer. Someone has to know something. I’ll make some calls.”
“Wait.” Liv giggles and wipes her eyes. “Liam figure skates?”
“Yup. Helps with improving edge control and agility.”
“I wonder if Coach Susannah has worked with him.”
“No way. She’s too nice to put up with him.” I scoop my phone off the table and stand, grateful for the break in work. “Let me see what I can do, kid. Hope is not lost.”
“Thanks, Dad. You’re the best.”
Olivia smiles up at me. There’s a pang in my chest when I look at her, and I’m hit with the terrible realization that she’s not four years old anymore. She’s a young adult going after her dreams, and I remember what I was like at her age: relentless. Spending every waking hour on the ice perfecting my skills so I would be the best college recruit the country had ever seen.
I know what my parents sacrificed to make that happen. The hours they put in shuttling me to and from practice, which somehow led me here, but I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s why I’m going to scour this city from high to low until I find the best coach for my daughter. I don’t care what I have to offer them. If it makes Olivia happy, I’ll do it.
“Start on your homework. I know you have an algebra test tomorrow,” I say, heading for my bedroom.
“It got canceled,” she yells after me.
“Study anyway,” I call back, shutting my door and sitting on my bed.
I know what I have to do, but I’m not excited about it. I’ve always kept my interactions with players to a minimum. I don’t spend a lot of time with them off the ice. I don’t text them like they’re my best friends, but in the time that’s passed since Riley’s accident, I’ve let myself be more accessible to them.
I’ve eased up on shutting them down so quickly when they ask me to hang out away from practice and games because they’re my family. And family is really fucking important, especially after going through a tragedy that nearly ripped us apart.
Riley is doing well. There are good days and there are bad days, but overall, we’re treading toward more good days. He spent some time last season coaching next to me, and the kid has a talent for paying attention to detail.
I’m still holding out hope he’ll be able to play again one day. It would be a goddamn dream to see him put on a jersey back on.
I drum my fingers against my phone and groan, typing out a text to the team.
Me
Have a favor to ask. Does anyone know any figure skating coaches? Sullivan, who is the person you’re with in the offseason?
Richardson
No fucking WAY. Did Coach create a group chat? This is the best day of my LIFE.
