"Your dad would want you to be happy."
"How do you know?"
"Because that's what parents want. Even the ones who push us toward their dreams—they want us to be happy. They just sometimes don't know the difference."
Tommy appeared in the doorway. "Morrison. Scout wants to talk to you. Conference room in five."
Jake's stomach dropped. This was it. The conversation that would determine his future.
"Want me to come with?" Marcus offered.
"No. I've got this."
The walk to the conference room felt longer than it should. Jake's legs were tired from the game, his shoulder sending up its usual post-game complaints. He was twenty-eight years old, not eighteen. His body knew the difference even if his brain didn't want to admit it.
The scout was waiting in the small room off the main corridor. Mid-forties, wearing a Nashville Predators polo, looking at his phone.
"Jake Morrison. Good game tonight."
"Thanks."
"I'm Steve Kowalski, assistant director of player personnel for Nashville. Mind if we talk for a few minutes?"
"Sure."
They sat. Steve pulled out a tablet, scrolled through what looked like stats and video clips.
"I've been following you this season," Steve said. "Two assists tonight, but that's not what impressed me. It's your consistency. Your hockey IQ. The way you read plays three steps ahead of everyone else."
"I appreciate that."
"We're looking for veteran depth. Someone who can play third line minutes, mentor younger guys, be a professional. Your injury history concerns us slightly, but our medical team reviewed your records and they think you're manageable."
Jake nodded, waiting.
"I'm prepared to offer you a two-way contract. AHL with NHL games when we need call-ups. It's not a guaranteed roster spot, but it's a chance." Steve named a salary that was triple what Jake made in Timber Falls. "You interested?"
This was it. The dream. The thing he'd been chasing since he was eight years old.
"Can I think about it?" Jake heard himself say.
Steve looked surprised. "Of course. But I'll need an answer by Monday. We're looking at a few options."
"I understand."
They shook hands. Steve gave Jake his business card. The meeting was over in less than ten minutes.
Jake walked back to the locker room in a daze. The team had mostly cleared out—Marcus was waiting, along with Tommy.
"Well?" Marcus asked.
"Two-way contract. AHL with NHL call-ups."
"Jake, that's amazing!"
"Yeah."
"You don't sound excited."
