I waste no time grabbing a screwdriver from Jimmy’s tool bag and begin loosening the screws around the first panel of the display.
“Jimmy, hand over as many screwdrivers as you’ve got to the guys and start disassembling these panels. Cole, start a bucket brigade and pass these panels along to the cool storage. Whatever we can’t remove and store needs to be covered with plastic sheeting.”
The guys jump into these new roles like the well-functioning team they are when playing hockey. The plumber finally shows up, reminding me of one of the guys in a television sitcom with pants loose and his butt crack showing. I can’t hide my irritation. “Why the hell is the water still on? Can’t you shut it off?”
The guy has absolutely no sense of urgency, taking his sweet time answering. “It ain’t that simple, man. If we shut off the water to this section, it messes with the cooling system for the ice. We’re trying to repair the leak at the source and plug these holes.” He points to the ceiling.
It takes about thirty minutes to get everything secure and stop the flooding. Then maintenance calls on the cleanup crew tomop up the excess water and clean the tunnel. I make my way to the locker room to change into dry clothes along with the rest of team.
“Guys, listen up. I just want to thank you all for jumping in to help today. That’s what a good—I mean—great team does. This is the best group of players I’ve had the privilege of being associated with.”
Cole steps up and claps me on the back. “We got you, Frost. A great team only happens when there’s a great Captain and a great leader.”
It hits me then, hard. What I’m going to miss the most about hockey—the teamwork, the camaraderie, the brotherhood.
My phone starts blowing up with texts and videos before I can even talk to Elise. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the PR crew took some video of the team in action and posted it to social media. My cell chimes again and I take a look at the latest text.
Trevor: Stop by my office if you’re still in the building.
I tap on the door to Trevor’s office, then enter.
“Dude, you’re a rockstar. My phone’s been ringing off the hook. Never thought I’d be glad about a leaky pipe, but that incident bought us more positive press and goodwill than the largest PR budget could buy.”
I never took Trevor for being an asshole, but it’s pretty shitty that he thinks damage to Elise’s art could be a good thing. “Seriously, Trevor? That leak could have ruined months of Elise’s hard work. Not to mention, something that’s become important for the team. Part of the reason for bringing Elise here was to show our support for arts and the community.”
He looks a little contrite, but I’m not sure it’s sincere. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. And what you did todayshowed fantastic leadership. The local television station wants to do a publicity piece on the partnership between the Blades and the arts. Talk to Elise and let’s get you two in front of the cameras. Together.”
I nod. I suppose any publicity is good publicity for Elise, and that’s all that matters to me right now.
Trevor continues. “I’m prepared to increase my previous offer to you. Your leadership today tells me you belong in the front office. Hockey operations management is in your future.”
On my way home from the arena, I touch base with Elise. “How’s your portfolio coming along?”
“I’m actually finished. And thanks to you, I don’t have to worry about making repairs to the arena display. Once the pipe is fixed, I can simply put everything back into place. I really appreciate what you did, Jax.”
My face cracks into a huge smile at her praise. Luckily, no one can see me grinning like an idiot since I’m driving down the road.
“I was in the right place at the right time. By the way, Trevor wants us to do an interview together to show the partnership between the Blades and your art. Seems our careers are not mutually exclusive after all,” I chuckle.
“Partnership, huh? See, ice can bring very different people together.”
“It sure can. And I for one, am damn glad it did.”
Later that night, I’m sitting out on my balcony, looking out at the lights of the city, nursing a whiskey, the amber liquid soothing my tongue and throat. The events of today, including the discussion with Trevor, are at the forefront of my mind, causing me to ponder my future once again. The stakes are so much higher now with Elise’s international opportunity looming ahead and a higher-level offer with the Blades on the table.Eventually, I head inside to bed. I’m not going to come to any decisions tonight.
A week later, the Golden Blades are playing for their hockey lives. The division title and the right to vie for the East Coast conference finals are on the line. The team is away in Norfolk, and Elise and I are in the VIP Club for a watch party with other employees and special fans who didn’t make the trip North. The series is tied three to three, with tonight’s game determining which team advances.
We’re watching the game remotely on the hockey network, tuned in to the broadcast featuring our home announcers. Although we get play-by-play coverage and the signature “Golden Blades score!” when we make a goal, it’s not the same as when we’re watching before a capacity crowd with the lights blazing and the air horn blaring.
In an exciting overtime period, the interim Captain puts the puck in the net, taking the game and the series. We’re headed for the conference finals! In my enthusiasm, I pick Elise up off the ground and swing her around before lowering my lips to hers for a kiss. For the moment, everything else disappears into the background, and it’s only the two of us celebrating the win.
The party in the club continues for about another hour, with the owners buying a round for the house. When the conference series schedule is displayed on the video screen, Elise wrinkles her brow.
“Darn. I’ll definitely be in Ottawa during that time. I hate to miss those games.”
For the first time, there’s a potential conflict in our schedules. I’m not necessarily worried about it since I’m not actually playing.
Two days later, the team is back in town. I attend practice to help prepare them for the next round. When I enter the locker room, Coach calls me over.
