Sofie called me on video, and we fell asleep like that. I woke up to a dead phone, and that pissed me off because I wanted to tell her I had a dream about that stupid song she kept singing, ‘Let It Go’.
Yet, I couldn’t.
Saturday night in Vancouver feels colder than it should.
Third of five on this trip, and my shoulders fine, my head though, it’s not quite settled. Seattle still rides on my ass, the weight of it humming under my skin every time a stick lingers too long, or a guy leans in after the whistle like he’s testing how fragile I am tonight.
They watched the tape. I can feel it.
First shift, someone finishes a hit late. Second shift, a chirp slips through the cage, lazy and pointed. I keep my mouth shut, breathe through my nose, remind myself I don’t need to prove anything to this building.
Midway through the second, there’s a scramble in front of our net. Bodies pile, gloves grabbing jerseys, that familiar tightening in my chest, saying this is where it usually goeswrong. My hands curl before I stop them, but Faulker gets there first, blocking me, knowing they’re trying to trip me up.
Refs wedge themselves in. I back off. Skate away.
At line change, I circle wide, coasting just long enough to lift my head toward the stands. Not looking for anything in particular. Just habit.
As I jump the boards to the bench, I see her right there where the seats were empty before, and she’s not alone. All of them, together, exactly where they don’t have to be. Bears gear. Savannah is bouncing in her lap. Nalani leans forward, locked into the play. Noelle is making heart eyes at Sterling, and Claudia is still, steady, eyes tracking everything. Savannah is bouncing on Sofie’s lap, one arm wrapped tight and protective around her, and with the other, she blows me a kiss.
And that kiss hits.
The noise dulls. The edge softens. The weight I carried out of Seattle shifts, settles, and stops pressing so hard against my ribs.
They came. After the fight, after the noise, after all of it.
I tap my heart and point to her without thinking, small and instinctive. Not for the cameras. Not for the crowd. For her. Hell for all of them.
When we jump in, the ice feels different. Wider, clearer. I win a board battle I probably shouldn’t. Take a hit and stay upright. Make the smart play instead of the loud one.
Another chirp comes. I glance toward her, and she just smiles at me. Fucking sunshine.
By the third period, when they try to bait me again, I don’t bite.
We win 3-1.
The game ends, and we skate in. She’s standing there in the tunnel, and she holds out a room key. “See you back at the hotel?”
I grab her up and hug her, “You didn’t have to do this, but I’m so glad you came.”
“It’s the longest away stretch of the season, and you have the next two days off, so we voted and decided that Canada was the best place for a girls’ getaway weekend before the big wedding.”
“Canada?” I laugh.
“Way better than Vegas.”
“Your Dad covered? Paul?”
She laughs, “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
And she was right, I couldn’t believe it. Sofie had gotten the two of them together so the wedding wouldn’t be uncomfortable for either of them, and to surprise Claudia.
At our first home game against Buffalo, they surprised Claudia by being in the Fairfax Media box together.
Chapter 24
Christmas Eve
Sofie
