And Joey.Oh my God, Joey.My boy is grinning so hard his face might crack.I don’t think I’ve seen him this happy and actually showing it in a long while.He’s so good at hiding what he’s feeling these days.The joys of being a mom to a teenager.
My fingers slide against the cold plastic rim of the rink, watching as Sidney adjusts Joey’s stance with a tap of his stick.Joey pivots slightly, earning a nod from his mentor.Sidney may be a professional goalie, but he knows about every position in the game and is sharing that knowledge with my son.
I keep replaying parts of his speech as I stood there, watching.The way his voice didn’t waver, even when the truth of his past clearly weighed on him.To look at him, you would never know that he struggled with anxiety.The kind that follows him into sold-out arenas and quiet hotel rooms alike.I think about the pressure stitched into every part of his life: the net behind him, the country watching, the expectation that he’ll always be unbreakable.And yet he stood there today and chose vulnerability anyway.
Not for headlines.Not for sympathy.For kids.For parents.For people like me, who need to see that strength doesn’t mean silence.Hockey is a beautiful sport, but it can also come with a cost.
I watch him now, how gentle he is with Joey, how patient, how present—like the noise of the world goes quiet when he’s focused on helping someone else stand a little taller.Knowing that what he carries, what he fights through just to show up like this, makes something warm and fierce bloom in my chest.
I feel closer to him than I did an hour ago.Sidney isn’t just brave on the ice.He’s brave in the places that actually count.And God help me, I think that might be what’s pulling me in the hardest of all
You’re giving away your shot position,I hear Sidney tell Joey with a concentrated look.Which is okay, but you want some mystery when you’re closing in on the net.Your stick is going behind your body and signalling a long-range shot.
Joey looks stunned, like this never occurred to him.I can see him lock in and memorize everything Sidney details to him to develop this new skill.
And that’s it.That’s the moment the warm, gooey part of my heart I’d been keeping under lock and key for the last fourteen years…twitches.Just slightly.It rattles in my chest just enough to catch my attention and have me pausing.Son of a bitch.
I sigh, unable to stop watching.Sidney is patient.Attentive.Encouraging, even when they mess up.All the qualities you want in a coach.Or a…well.No.Nope.Not going there.
I’m sure Sidney’s interest in me is fleeting.I can understand that.Forming a bond in a high-pressure situation has been known to happen, but they always fizzle out.There’s no real way a man likehimwould be interested in a single mom who’s struggling to get by.
As if hefeelsmy line of thinking, Sidney glances up.Our eyes meet across the rink.
It’s not some dramatic, cinematic moment where the lights dim and angels sing—but it’s close enough that I jerk upright in embarrassment.His mouth curves in a small smile, warm and startled at the same time.
I manage a weak wave, needing to do something with my hands.I could’ve melted through the floor.This is getting ridiculous.I need to get a handle on my emotions.I’ve been in this man’s presence for all of ten consecutive minutes, and I’m already acting like a giggling schoolgirl.
You have got to be kidding me,someone says beside me.
I turn.And immediately regret it.
Rhonda.Of course.
I hadn’t noticed it before—blame it on the caffeine not having hit my system yet an hour ago—but Rhonda is dressed like she’s heading to a morning business interview, not supervising a group of sugar-fuelled all-aged hockey players.Her arms are crossed, lips pursed, eyes following my line of sight like a hawk zeroing in on prey.
He’s good with the kids,I said casually, praying she’ll take the hint and move along.
Mhmm,she hums.He’s spending an awful lot of time with Joey.
I frown.What do you mean?They just got on the ice.
She tilts her head, giving me the kind of sympathetic look people give when they’re about to say something deeply unhelpful.Borderline crushing.
Oh, Eddie,she sighs.What did I say about keeping it professional?
Excuse me?Who are you, the friend police?
Friends?Is that what you think the rest of us are seeing?She makes a rude noise.You know,she says, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper,men like him aren’t…for people like you.
My stomach dips.What in the actual hell is this woman saying?
I lick my lips, reminding myself that I’m in public, surrounded by young, impressionable kids.It wouldn’t do any good for me to resort to violence.But maybe a good jab in the boob with my elbow—accidentally—would get her to mind her own business.People like me?
You think we don’t know?Me and the other hockey parents?You can try to hide it all you want, but we know who you’re related to.She flaps her hand toward Sidney.He dates models.Actresses.Influencers.You should see the women he’s been photographed with,she cackles.There’s absolutely no way he’d tarnish his career for you.
I blink, trying very hard not to laugh from the sheer audacity—even though her words hit with more sting than I want to admit.I had been thinking something along similar lines moments ago.Yet for her to say that my family is the reason he wouldn’t date me…is…okay, it’s fair.I can’t let her know that she’s right though.That would give her too much power.
You don’t know anything, Rhonda.He’s just helping the kids run drills.
