“I’d really love it if you could make it,” he says earnestly. “I know the guys would love to see you, and wouldn’t you like a trip back to the city?”
I’m surprised by the invite. I’d think not talking to someone for three years would be enough to put me firmly in the “not invited” category. But Decker’s never been one to keep score like that. “It has been awhile.”
“Awesome, I’ll let Tasha know you’re in!” Guess he took that as my RSVP. “Do you want a plus one? You’re more than welcome to. I just—I didn’t know if you have anyone since you and Elle…”
I haven’t seen Decker since my divorce was finalized. To his credit, he tried calling shortly after it was publicized, but I was still firmly in isolation mode and wasn’t talking to anyone.
“No, I’m not. I’m good to ride solo.”
I can picture his shit-eating grin as he muses, “Gonna see Skywalker on the prowl then…I’m looking forward to that.”
I snort and shut him down. “There won’t be any prowling. Not at a wedding event. Too high a risk of finding a clinger.”
“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Enough about me, what have you been up to?”
No, please, let’s keep the conversation on him. But I know Decker, and he’ll want to know how I’m doing. He actually cares.
“I’m uh, I’m back in Michigan.”
“Yeah, I remember that. Happy being closer to your dad and brother again?”
“It’s nice,” I say. “Don’t see them often, but it’s good not having to hop on a plane when I do.”
He groans. “I fucking wish. That’s the life.”
No. Playing hockey is the life, and he’s still getting to live it.
“What are you doing now? Got a job like a normal person?” His question is light-hearted, but it sends a stabbing pain through my skull.
“I’m coaching now.” I rub the back of my neck. “Assistant coach for the women’s hockey team at Haulton University.”
He’s probably never heard of it, but his reaction is instant. “That’s great, man! I always knew you’d make a good coach.”
I huff.
“No, for real. I’m serious.”
“Why?” I never thought I would coach, even when I was playing. To be honest, I never really thought ahead to my future of what I would do when I was done playing hockey. It’s like my brain wouldn’t allow itself to even go there. Playing the sport was myeverything. It’s all I ever wanted.
“Well for starters,” Decker says, “you know more about the sport than anyone else I know.”
I chuckle at that because clearly Decker hasn’t met my dad.
“And you were always the one to step up in the locker room in those crunch moments. You may never have worn the C on your jersey, but you carried that weight.”
Memories start to flood forward in a tidal wave. Moments in the locker room after warm ups and before the start of a tough game, when my teammates would get in their heads and start to psych themselves out. I knew we couldn’t enter a game with that kind of energy hanging over us. Then there were times in the playoffs, when we’d be down 3–0 in the round and heading into the fourth game when it was do or die. And I knew the guys needed that extra push, that extra motivation, that extra reminder that we deserved to be there. That we could do it. That we could win.
“Yeah…” I whisper. “I guess you’re right.”
Where did that person go? How have I drifted so far from who I used to be? Decker isn’t going to recognize the Luke he’ll see if I actually go to this engagement party.
That’s fucking embarrassing.
“I’ll have to come out to try to catch a game,” Decker says. “I’d love to see you in action. Will you send me the schedule when you get a chance?”
“Yeah, sure. Although I doubt you’ll be able to squeeze one in with your own schedule to worry about.” I may be out of the league now, but I’ll never forget how grueling the season is.
“I’ll make it work. Maybe some of the guys will wanna come, too. We can chat about it later.”
