“I will. Will you be watching the game?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Liam and I are gonna put on a show, darling. So get ready.”
“I’ll be glued to the television set,” she promises. “Be safe. Kick some ass.”
* * *
Playinga hockey game as a tribute to your late father brings up all sorts of emotions.
Anger, yes, because of the way he died.
But I didn’t expect to feel the grief, too.
The air in the arena is cool as usual, and I relish the cold-as-ice feel tonight because that’s what I’m feeling in my veins. Cold and lethal.
I want to wash that fucker’s murderous face out of my head for good.
Liam and I line up on opposite sides of the ice like always. But this time, when he leans forward, he turns his head to the left briefly. I catch his eye, and he tips his chin in the direction of Denver’s goal.
I nod back at him.
And then, it’s on.
As soon as the ref drops the puck, Liam fights for it. He has control of it within seconds, and he slaps it over to me.
I’m in the zone as I skate past one defender and then keep the puck away from another. I back up, eye Liam skating down the middle, and as soon as he has a finger-width of space, I zip the puck over to him.
I don’t even wait to see what he’s going to do.
It’s like I know.
I shift further left, dodging the defenseman in my path, and as Liam makes it look like he’s going to shoot, instead, he passes it back to me.
I don’t even take possession of the puck before firing my stick through it. The goalie’s out of position, and the puck shoots by him and over the goal line.
I raise my stick to the heavens.
Goal One.
For Dad.
We do it three more times.
Twice, Liam scores, and I get one more myself. On two of our goals, the puck actually looks like it’s flying wide of the net, but then at the last second, it snakes inside the crossbar. It almost looked like someone’s hand gently nudged or guided it there.
I’ve never believed my father was watching our games before, but apparently, I haven’t paid close enough attention.
When the game ends, Murph and Dean wrap their arms around my brother and me.
“What the hell got into you two tonight? I’ve never seen you perform like that on thesamenight,” Murph says.
“Retribution,” Liam says simply.
“Redemption,” I add.
He and I look at each other and then up at the ceiling.
