Toward the end of the hallway, Katherine punched in a code and opened the door into a large, open dressing room. Rows of cubbies made from dark wood lined each wall with bench seating in the middle of the room. Over to one end of the room stood a giant media backdrop with the Seaporters logo and other sponsors’ logos for press interviews. On the opposite end of the room there were doors that led to bathrooms, showers, and private lockers for each of the players. The Coaches’ office was right off the main entrance of the room.
“Your cubby is already in there with your name, number, and uniforms. Navy blue for aways and white for home. There’s also a red and blue in there for Military Appreciation Night next Friday. We still need to give you guys the new ones forPride Night and Seattle Children’s Hospital Night, but those games will be closer towards the end of the season. Your private locker has the same code you use for the rest of the building. We just switched to a security system that’ll allow you to unlock everything with your phone, so we’ll have to get you set up for that later. Oh, you can also download an app to get into your apartment building or buzz visitors in with their own codes.”
“Good to know,” Fletcher told her.
“I’m sure it’s a lot all at once, but everyone on the team is super friendly and very eager to meet you, I’ve been told.” She looked over to Fletcher, who must’ve looked a little overwhelmed because she gave him a kind smile. “No pressure, though. The owner’s been eyeing you as a replacement for a while now.”
“Yeah, I heard you traded Sommers to St. Louis. That guy’s got a mean backhand.” That definitely wasn’t the only thing mean about him, though.
Katherine shrugged. “Between the two of us,” she lowered her voice and checked to make sure they were still the only ones in the room. “I’m glad to see him go. He’s uhh,” she paused for a minute to think. “He’s not the kindest guy to certain players.”
Fletcher immediately understood. From what he’d seen about Sommers, he was particularly unforgiving to people of color out on the ice. Since starting his rookie season in the NHL a few weeks ago, he’d already spent a considerable amount of time in the penalty box for unsportsmanlike conduct. And many of the players he targeted were black or Hispanic. Not a good mix considering Seattle had one of the most ethnically diverse teams in the league to date.
“I see,” Fletcher responded with a frown. “I kinda noticed a pattern with the players he targeted. Good to know he’s someone else’s problem now.”
Katherine led Fletcher back out into the hallway. She looked down at her watch. “It’s noon. The other guys should be arriving soon. I’ll drop you off to meet Wanda Bedingfield and Coach Radcliffe. Pancek will probably be in there too.”
Wanda Bedingfield and her business partner Rowe Klinefelter had been the owners of the Seattle Seaporters for nearly thirty years now. Wanda was a sweet older woman in her mid to late fifties who was the kid sister of famous Russian player Nikolai Fedorov. She immigrated to the States to live with her brother in Vancouver, where she met her late husband, Greg Bedingfield. The Bedingfield family had owned the Seaporters for generations. After her husband passed away, she stood to inherit the team. The team Wanda was handed was nearly broke and worth next to nothing, so she brought Rowe Klinefelter on to help. Klinefelter was the son of two hospital CEOs who owned several major hospitals along the West Coast.
Fletcher extended his hand out to shake her hand. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” he told her cheerfully. Wanda had long gray hair that was braided to the side. She dressed casually and wore something similar to what Katherine wore. A pair of skinny jeans and a Seaporters long sleeve tee. He liked how they dressed casual here. It made him feel a lot more welcome.
“We’ve met before,” she told him with a weak Russian accent. After living here for thirty years it made sense that her accent wasn’t very strong. “Though you were a little baby the last time we met. My son played with your papa a few seasons in Florida.”
That was news to Fletcher. “I had no idea.” He smiled politely. “I’m glad to meet again, then.”
Over to their right stood Coach Nancy Radcliffe and one of the Assistant Coaches.
“Your father is going to murder me,” was the first thing Coachsaid to him. Fletcher had met Nancy Radcliffe dozens of times. She and his mom were roommates in college and a bridesmaid at his parents’ wedding. He called her Auntie Nancy growing up and his family vacationed with hers in St. Barts a few times. She had a daughter, Devi, who was around Fletcher’s age that played professional women’s hockey in Minnesota and an older daughter, Anushka, who was the captain of her team in New York.
Nancy pulled him in for a hug, and Fletcher wrapped his arms around to embrace her. “I guess I’m too old to keep calling you Auntie Nancy now,” he joked. Nancy pulled back and shook her head. “I’ll always be your Auntie. But I don’t think the team would take you seriously if you called me that here.” She turned and gestured towards the man on her left. “This is offensive coordinator Buck Farley. You’ll be working closely with him.”
Fletcher shook his hand and greeted him.
Finally, Fletcher was introduced to Yuiry Pancek. Known to him as his dad’s biggest rival. Well, he had been called a bunch of different things by his dad, but Fletcher would never repeat them out loud. “Nice to meet you son. We’re so proud to have you on the team.” He gave Fletcher a strong handshake.
“I’m so grateful for the opportunity to play alongside you and the others. I’m a huge fan,” he said, though Fletcher was mostly just being nice about the fan part. Pancek cocked an eyebrow up at him and smirked. He definitely didn’t believe Fletcher.
“That’s surprising to hear. I’ve heard the things your father has said about me these past years.”
Fletcher gave him a knowing look. “And I’m sure he’ll probably have a lot more to say since your team poached his son.”
Pancek chuckled and patted him on the back. “Glad to have you, kid. Let’s go meet the rest of the team.”
4
The Team
Pancek, the coaches, and Fletcher all headed next door to the practice facility. He went around the room and was introduced to each of his new teammates. They all exchanged niceties.
Finally, Fletcher spotted him. Taylor Piers was sliding a white athletic shirt over his head when Fletcher approached him. The shirt clung to his body and Fletcher could still see the outline of his muscles and abs through the thin material. He reached his hand out to shake Taylor’s, who grasped it and gave him a solid handshake. His calloused hands were rough against Fletcher’s skin. “Taylor Piers. Nice to see you again.” He flashed Taylor a charming grin.
Taylor offered him a kind, but guarded smirk back. “Couldn’t beat me so you had to join me, huh?”
Fletcher shrugged. “I saw an opportunity and had to seize it. I’m quite the opportunist.” His comment Taylor’s smile grow ever so slightly, though he still looked at Fletcher through hisdark brown eyes with a solemn expression. His angular facial features gave him a kind of a stoic face. Very handsome, but very intimidating. It was originally what stood out the most to Fletcher. He had never seen him smile. Piers was an intense guy who meant business.
Fletcher considered his own face to be softer. Approachable looking. Oftentimes people had no problems coming up to chat with him, even strangers. His piercing blue eyes popped against his curly, sandy brown hair. He liked to keep his hair neatly framed around his face, the longest part just slightly curling below the bottom of his head.
Taylor had curly hair too, though his was a dark, nearly black, brown color. His curls were a lot looser and less defined than Fletcher’s, but Taylor kept his hair slightly longer. Kind of a Game of Thrones Jon Snow look.
