Mia may not be here tonight. She may not even be watching from our living room, even though I hope she is. But she’s infiltrated my thoughts anyway, and that very fact takes my breath away.
I take a seat on the bench by myself for a moment and try to get my air back. I don’t want to lose my steam before the game’s even started.
“Everything okay?” Coach Tucker drops onto the bench next to me.
I give an immediate nod. “Sure, I’m fine.”
“Dec.” Coach drops his voice to that “listen to me” tone. “I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if you’re okay. There’s a difference.”
I guess there is. I’m not used to talking about myself in any way other than hockey, though.
I glance over at my coach. I’ve known Coach Joshua Tucker since I was in high school. He’s a Montana guy, born and raised, and I got to know him when I was in town, visiting my cousins. He’s a good man who cares about his players as people, not just as a commodity.
Right now, his brown eyes are warm and focused on me. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of sorts before a game,” he says in a curious tone.
“No worries about the game. I’m more than ready.”
“So what gives?”
I roll my shoulders. “It sounds fucking crazy, but I’m thinking about my wife.”
He breaks into a loud laugh. Running a hand through his graying hair, he says, “I have to tell you it’s a relief to hear you worrying about something other than hockey.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Coach Tucker turns serious. “Declan, you’re going to retire as one of the greatest to ever lace them up. All the great ones have one thing in common—a singular focus to be the best. As a coach, that’s exactly what we want in a player. But as someone who’s watched you grow up into the fine man that you are…I want more for you, too. I want you to be happy off the ice as well as on it.”
I’m glad for the helmet covering my face because I honestly don’t know what to say to him.
My dad and I never talk about much other than hockey. I’m not used to someone who’s been a bit of a father figure to me talking about my personal life. I appreciate his perspective, though, and I nod at him.
“I’m trying, Coach. I just want to keep my focus while I’m in the rink.”
“You’re a smart guy, Wild. Somehow, I think you’ll find a way to figure out the balance. That’s what life is, right? A balance of work and play?”
I think of Mia and how much I enjoy spending time with her. We’d promised to curb our sexual relationship once we married. But that doesn’t mean we can’t hang out as friends. Later. For now, it’s time to get to work.
I stand up and skate back onto the ice.
As soon as the puck is dropped, I’m all over the ice.
I score on a breakaway in the first period and assist on one of Arch’s two goals. By the time the second-period buzzer sounds, we’re up, four to nothing, on Pittsburgh.
And the final score reflects where we’re going as a team—
“All the way!” Tex bangs his stick to mine as we leave the ice. “We’re going to the playoffs on a roll, Wild!”
I’ve won the whole thing before. But it was years ago, and in what I privately know is my last year as a player, I want the title badly this year. We’re in first place in our division. This road trip should wrap up a playoff berth. From there, it’s up to us to deliver when it counts.
“You had a goddamn hat trick,” Coach Tucker says to me as I reach the locker room. “One of your best games this year.”
I grin. “We crushed them, Coach.”
He brings us all together for an after-game pep talk.
“We’re doing well, men. Doing well. That was a good game.” He raises his hand in a fist. “You put it all out there from the first play to the last. I’m proud of you. Let’s get ready for our next game, okay? Get a shower, do your interviews, and be on the bus on time. Good work tonight!”
The hordes of reporters hounding me after the game are so distracted by my play that they don’t ask many questions about my new marriage.
