“Maddox,” he says, jerking his chin toward the hall. “Minute.”
I follow him into the equipment alcove where the dryers roar like small jet engines and the whole world is socks. He plants a palm on the whiteboard and sketches a rectangle that’s either a rink or a coffin. “Schedule just shifted,” he says. “League wants to plug us into a two-game road squeeze next week. Back-to-back, East coast. Good for exposure. Good for momentum. We roll.”
Old me nods before the sentence ends. New me feels the tug and plants a skate.
“What’s the return?” I ask, neutral. “Points are points. What’s the cost?”
He eyes me like he’s calculating whether I’ve gone soft or smart. “Travel day gets tight. You’ll miss your off day. Media wants you for a feature while you’re there.” A beat. “Team needs you.”
I lean my shoulder against the cinderblock because I play better when I remember I’m not a wall. “Team has me,” I say. “Within lines I’m drawing.” I keep my tone flat—no challenge, no apology. “Pediatrician appointment is Thursday at four. I’m home for that. We cap media at ten minutes scrum post-skate, no exclusives, no ride-alongs. I’m in for both games, practice the day before, fly back on the first bird.”
His jaw works like he’s chewing gristle. “You negotiating with your coach?”
“I’m setting boundaries with a man I respect,” I say, and let silence carry the rest. I’ve learned it carries fine if you don’t load it with panic.
The dryers thrum. Down the hall someone laughs too loud; a stick clatters. Coach’s gaze flicks to my face, to the ring of exhaustion around my eyes we both pretend not to see, to the steadiness that wasn’t there a month ago. He taps the board with the butt of the pen. “You skate like you skated today, you buy yourself say in your calendar,” he says. “You dog it, I make it for you.”
“Fair,” I say. “I won’t dog it.”
He nods once, which in Coach is a hug. “Media?”
“Julia has language,” I say. “You, me, PR can bless a script and stick to it. We talk hockey. We don’t feed the other thing.”
His mouth twitches, almost a smile. “You mean the circus you married?”
“I mean the circus that married me,” I return, and let myself grin back. “We’re not comping them tickets anymore.”
He exhales through his nose, the closest he gets to a laugh when he’s not in a bar. “Fine. First bird home, cap the scrum, Thursday at four you’re off the grid. But if you’re on the sheet, you’re on the sheet. No half-measures.”
“Full measures,” I say. “Then I go home.”
He slaps the board once, decision sealed. “Tell the room you’re buying the rookie dinner on the road,” he adds, already halfway to the door. “If you’re going to be a leader, be a generous one.”
“Copy,” I say, and he’s gone.
I stand there a second with the dryers roaring and the pen mark rectangle staring at me like a map I get to redraw. It isn’t rebellion. It’s a route. I text JuliaCAP SCRUM 10 MIN. NO EXCLUSIVES. THU 4P HARD OUT, then RileyCoach signed off on boundaries. I’ll be there for the appointment.
Her typing bubble appears before I pocket the phone.Knew you would. Proud of you.A photo follows—our kid asleep with one hand flung over their head like a tiny goalie who just made a save.
I let the picture hit and do its work. Lines on the calendar. Lines on the ice. I skate both.
The email lands before I’m out of the parking lot—a PDF that smells like lawyers even through glass.SUBJECT: Draft—Staff/Player Relationship Protections (Rev 3). I forward it to Julia withCall me.She does before the whoosh finishes.
“Reading,” she says, keys clacking in the background like rain. “Initial take: it’s pretty, it’s vague, it’s useless unless you’re a plaque on a wall. Where are you?”
“Truck,” I say, heater on, sweat still drying cold along my spine. “Hit me.”
She exhales. “They’ve got ‘protections’ but no enforcement. Reporting process is a suggestion, not a pipeline. Retaliationlanguage is soft enough to sleep on. We need deadlines, consequences, and a human being who isn’t on the owner’s payroll collecting complaints.”
“Let’s write it,” I say, and we do, talking in bullets like a pair of people who’ve learned the hard way that clarity is mercy.
Section 1—Scope.Julia: “Define relationships broadly so no one gets cute with labels.” Me: “Include dating, engagement, cohabitation, pregnancy, parenting. If it’s real life, it’s covered.”
Section 2—Reporting.Julia: “Two lanes: confidential hotline to a third-party firm and a direct line to league compliance. Both timestamped, both tracked.” Me: “Allow anonymous reports, but give an option for named with anti-retaliation guarantees.”
Section 3—Anti-Retaliation.Julia: “Teeth. Automatic review if a staffer’s duties or schedule shift within thirty days of a report. Burden on the team to prove legitimate business need.” Me: “List examples: schedule changes, credential pulls, demotions, social media gag orders masquerading as policy.”
Section 4—Investigations.Julia: “Thirty days max from report to findings unless extended by mutual agreement. Interim measures that don’t punish the reporter.” Me: “Written outcomes. Action items. Not just ‘thanks for your bravery.’”
