1
June
I stared out at the hockey rink splayed out before me, and the players who were fighting for the puck in the near corner. Someone got control of it and passed it to an open man at center ice, who pulled back his stick and made a slap shot that echoed through the empty arena.
The puck missed wide, hitting the wall with another loud crash. Players shouted as they raced to fight for possession again.
I can’t believe I landed this job.
“I know how you feel right now,” Andy told me. He was the physical trainer I was replacing. “Just wait until this place is packed for arealgame, and not a scrimmage!”
“I’ve been to a few games, but never as an employee.”
There was another shout down on the ice, followed by the shrill pierce of a whistle. Two players were locked together, grabbing each other’s pads and jostling to throw a punch while teammates circled around them.
“Freaking Rhett,” Andy muttered. “Guess he didn’t mature in the off-season. Come on, let me show you the facilities.”
I watched the fight down on the ice for a few more seconds before turning and following Andy back into the bowels of the arena.
“You said you’re retiring?” I asked.
“Sure am! Twenty-seven years doing this. Not for the Atlanta Reapers, of course. Team’s only a few years old. I worked for the Braves for about a decade, and the Falcons before that. The Hawks are the only Atlanta team I’ve never worked for. Too bad, huh?”
“Too bad,” I agreed.
He led me into a room that smelled faintly of sweat, body odor, and cleaning supplies. Black and red lockers covered the walls, with rows of benches in the middle space.
“This is the locker room. Coach’s office is through that door… but throughthisdoor is my room.” He stepped into a medical office that had three massage tables, a desk in the corner, and cabinets full of equipment. “Well. I suppose it’syourroom, now.”
I grinned while taking it all in. This wasmine, now?
I realized he was staring at me. “Nervous?”
“No,” I replied automatically. But when he raised a bushy white eyebrow, I said, “Okay, that’s a lie. I’m so nervous I’m afraid I’m going to throw up.”
“Bathroom’s that way if you do,” he said, pointing. “And on the other side of that wall is the training room. Free weights, treadmills, exercise bikes. It should all be familiar.”
The wall was all glass, giving me a view inside from my office. It was empty right now. Everything was far more peaceful than it felt like it should be.
“You’re about the same age I was when I started for the Falcons,” he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’ll do fine, June. This is a great job. Take care of the players, and the team will take care of you.”
It still didn’t feel real. Like this was all an elaborate hoax, and the walls would fall down revealing a studio audience that would point and laugh and tease me for believing I could ever be the head trainer for a professional hockey team.
But then there was a commotion down the hall, and it quickly became real. The players came stomping into the locker room, stripping pads and skates while shouting at each other like teenagers.
“Showtime,” Andy muttered. “Don’t let them intimidate you. And don’t let them push you around. You’re new, so they’ll test your limits. And…”
“And I’m a woman,” I finished for him.
Andy gave me a wry grin. “The boys aren’t sexist or misogynist. Nothing like that. But there’s an awful lot of testosterone in that room, and sometimes it boils over. Don’t take it personally.”
“Got it,” I said while watching the players through the window.
Jay Collander, the coach for the Atlanta Reapers, made a beeline for the trainer’s office. “Rhett tweaked something in his shoulder. Can you take a look? Don’t let him pretend it’s nothing.”
“Send him in,” Andy replied before turning to me. “Why don’t you take this one?”
I froze. “I thought I was just getting a tour of the facilities today…”
