He shakes his head at me. “I don’t know how you do this all day. My legs are killing me.”
“I wonder the same about you on that boat,” I say back to him, handing him my water bottle.
He takes a sip. “I might not have a boat to go back to by the time I get home.”
“Fuck,” I say, remembering what day it is, even though I’m relieved he’s not heading back out on one of those death traps. “Your boat was going back out to sea today, wasn’t it?”Had none of this happened, and he’d been able to head back to Alaska from Milan as planned, he would have made it back on time.
He shrugs. “It’s alright. They have to come back to port eventually. Or I can always grab a spot on another one if I need to.”
“Or you could take me up on my offer and you get your own boat going where you can stay on shore to run the business and send other people out to sea.”
“You know I’m no good at the office stuff.”
“Then we’ll hire someone who is who can help you.” I turn myself to place one hand on the boards and look at him. “Say you’ll think about it.”
He nods his head at me, but I worry it’s a lost cause. Those first few years after my mother’s death, when it was only the two of us, he tried to find work off the boats. He did alright, but the pay was much lower, and he found that technology had moved right past him. Computers are always evolving, but the sea stays the same.
“Marshal!” Coach Matthews yells out from his office.Was that a good yell or a bad yell?
I skate over to him, my heart in my mouth.
“Good news. You’re no longer suspended.”
“Thank Christ,” I say and let out a sigh of relief.
“And I expect you both on the ice tomorrow morning for practice.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, then almost fall over with how quickly my head spins to stare directly at him. “Both?”
“Yeah.” He smiles at me. “Your boy’s a Blizzard now. You can pick him up at the airport tonight at ten o’clock.”
TWENTY-SIX
Connor
The look on my father’s face when he hangs up the phone with the Blizzards coach and general manager is pure anger. It’s frightening, but I’m no longer a kid, nor, as of this moment, am I under his control anymore. He’s lost, and he knows it.
“I’m sorry,” I say to him because I am. “I wish it didn’t need to happen this way.” Which is also the truth. I would have liked for us to be able to part amicably. I would have liked him to never have put me in a position where I would have to do this.
His nostrils flare and he points at his office door. “Get out of my office, you ungrateful little shit.”
I clench my teeth and nod my head at him, then rise from my seat and walk through his office door. Michelle is right on my heels. She follows me as I make my way to the locker room so I can collect my things. When we reach the closed entry door, she puts her hand on my shoulder. “Are you still doing okay?”
I swallow, then let out a long breath as I look at the Broad Wings logo painted in bright glossy colors on the door. I’ve stared at this logo my entire life. I wore it as a newborn, and through everystage and milestone since then. A born Broad Wing flying away to become a Blizzard. “I’m good. I just need a minute.”
She pats me on the shoulder. “I’ll give you some privacy,” she says, then walks away, tapping on her phone. My work here might be done today, but hers is only getting started. I know for a fact that my dad has called Coach Chris in for a meeting that she’ll sit in on with his contract in hand like she did for me, negotiating his dismissal from the Broad Wings organization. After that, she needs to finalize the details of the Kennedy Rule with the league.
Taking another deep breath, I pull the locker room door open. The team’s equipment manager has already filled my bag up with my gear but there are a few personal items in my stall I’d like to grab as well. Like my name placard, which I’m sure my father would throw away. Then there’s the stack of pucks I’ve collected with my now ex-teammates’ signatures on them over the years. And a team hoodie to wear while loosening up before dressing in all my gear for a game. I won’t need it anymore, obviously. I’ll get a new one with the rest of my Blizzards uniforms. But just because things ended poorly for me here with my father, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take this with me as a souvenir to remember my days as a Broad Wing.
I’m shoving everything into my bag, and making sure my skates are secure, when my phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket. It’s Gavin. A smile pulls at my lips and my eyes begin to burn. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he says, his voice gentle. “Are you alright?”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. It’s been a long day, and it’s barely two. But it’s so good to hear his voice, even though it was only a few hours ago that he dropped me off at the airport. “I’m good. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. But I’ll see you tonight. Look for my Jeep right outside the airport waiting for you.”
“Okay,” I choke out and sit heavily onto the bench. With the back of my hand I wipe at the underside of my eyes, relieved I’m alone, as I don’t need anybody to see me like this.
