“Yeah. I have the clip of it on my phone if you want to see it again.” I laugh as he scowls. “Anyway, that’s my point. This game was a total fluke for me too. And like you said, I will shake it off and move on.”
“Okay.” He’s not convinced and he’s not even trying to hide it. He scratches the back of his head and leans forward. “Well, if it’s not a fluke, then you need to figure out what it is. And honestly, Eli, as your captain, I have to tell you, you don’t get a lot of time before they’ll write you off.”
“The team?”
“The team, the fans, the league,” he says and sighs. “Everyone.”
The league isn’t forgiving. And it’s even harder on goalies. I know this, but hearing Levi say it makes the reality feel even heavier. I stare at the unopened Reese’s Pieces bag. Levi nudges me. “What can I do? Do you want to talk about it? To me or someone else? Do you want me to practice with you one on one?”
I shake my head. “I don’t need help. I’ll be fine. I’ll be great. I promise.”
“Eli…”
I finally look up. I know my face is still pink with shame and now it’s turning red because of anger. Not at him, at my life. “I know you want to make this into a big deal for some reason, but you need to stop. It was a bad day. The end. And I can’t shake it the fuck off if you won’t let it go.”
“Okay.” He backs off instantly and without offense. I tear open the Reese’s Pieces, pop a handful into my mouth, then offer him the bag. He takes some, which is surprising because he’s such a health nut during the season. “Okay, well, your brother will back off, but your captain can’t.”
I grit my teeth for a second but I nod. “So, Captain, what do you suggest I do?”
“Focus,” he replies, swallowing the Reese’s Pieces. “It’s not a bullshit word. You have to live, breathe, eat hockey and only hockey. No distractions. No women. No booze. No nothing. If it’s your entire life you’ll fix it because living in the failure will be unbearable. Because you’re not a failure, Elijah.”
Then he stands up and strides down the plane aisle to his seat next to Jude near the front.
I don’t know if he’s right, but it’s worth a try. That means cutting out Dixie. Completely. I’ve been thinking about her nonstop since I left her, fantasizing about ways to get her to break the rules and start seeing me anyway. If Levi is right, then I need to stop doing that. Not only do I need to stop thinking about her, I need to avoid her when I get back to San Fran instead of finding ways to run into her, which is what I was planning on doing. The thought is uncomfortable and even painful, but I will do anything to make this work. I’ve risked my life for this career. I’ve alienated my parents. I’ve given up my education. I have to try anything to make it work.
14
Dixie
I walk into the office just before eight, which is early, but Ann requested I get here before the normal nine o’clock start time. I assume it’s because she knows there’s going to be a ton of media requesting locker room interviews for the game tomorrow night and she wants to make sure I get an early start. The Thunder again last night in Michigan. Elijah started again and he was pulled again. I have to get official confirmation from the coach when he comes in today, but I know Eli isn’t starting the game tomorrow night.
I watched both games Eli played, my eyes riveted to the screen like I was watching a train wreck. And my heart ached for him. But both games I saw the point where it happened—where he froze up. Being obsessed with him has paid off. I watched a lot of his game videos from his college website and I know how he moves—intimately. The way he controls his limbs. Despite being six foot four and as wide as a brick wall, Elijah Casco moves like a panther on and off the ice—slow, methodic, sure. He started both games like that, you could see it, even under the pads. But in both games, after a serious scuffle in front of his net, everything changed. His motion became spastic, his reflexes delayed. It’s subtle, but if you know him you see it. I can only hope someone else noticed it too, like the goalie coach or even Levi, and brings it up to him. I don’t think he’s aware of the change, but if he knows about it I know he’ll figure out why, like I have. It’s the accident. The jostling in front of his net, the players falling and the skates flying, is pushing him back to that incident.
The team flew back late last night, but they don’t have practice today. I’m dying to see Eli again. I know we can’t interact, at least not the way my heart and body want, but I feel like just laying eyes on him will bring some relief to that ache I have for him. And of course, the other side of me, the rational one, knows it’s for the best he’s not here. Seeing him and not touching him, having to pretend he’s just another rookie on the team, is going to be brutal. Also, there’s this weird vibe in the office this week, and I don’t need to add to it.
Yesterday everyone was running around in closed-door meetings, which I couldn’t find on our shared Google calendar, so I know they were unplanned. What I don’t know is what they were about. I hope it wasn’t Elijah.
I drop my coat on the back of my chair and put my latte and my breakfast burrito down on the desk. I swung by my parents’ this morning instead of Jude’s, figuring he needed alone time with Zoey. Mom was making her amazing breakfast burritos and made one for me. I haven’t had one since this summer when I visited them in Toronto, and they’re my favorite thing in the universe. I’m about to sit down and savor my last bite when I notice Trish’s jacket is also on her chair. I pop the last of the burrito into my mouth and look over to Nadine’s desk. Her jacket is there too. But where are they?
Mr. Carling walks in as I’m swallowing the last of my mom’s culinary masterpiece. He sees me and smiles. “Morning, Dixie. Everyone else is in the conference room already,” he says with a smile, even though that fact leaves me nervous. Why am I not there too? They told me eight thirty. He walks briskly to his closed office door. “Just let me dump my coat and we can walk there together.”
“Sure thing,” I say calmly, but I’m anything but. Something is up, and I don’t know what it is. I hate not knowing things. It causes my mind to run a million miles an hour in the worst possible direction.
I stand, shove my purse in my desk, and grab my phone and slip it into my pocket before taking a notepad and pen. He comes out of his office in just his dress shirt, having removed his suit jacket too. I scoot around my desk and slip through the door with a grateful smile as he holds it open. He falls in line beside me as we walk down the hall toward the elevator bank. The conference room is a floor below us at the other end of the building, the side attached to the arena, and it has a glass wall that actually overlooks the ice.
“I’m sorry about Noah,” I tell him. Noah, the goalie Eli was called up to replace, is Mr. Carling’s son.
“Thanks. He’ll be great after the surgery and recovery. It’s frustrating for him, but this is better than playing injured and risking the rest of his career,” Mr. Carling explains. He himself was a player and had a lengthy successful career, so he knows injuries and time off are part of the game. I’m walking faster than normal, and Mr. Carling pats my shoulder. “Relax. We’re not late. I asked Ann to bring everyone to the conference room early because I needed to talk to you alone.”
“Okay. That doesn’t help me relax,” I admit lightly but inside my nerves have escalated to almost a panic-attack-inducing level. What the hell is going on?
“Ann is leaving,” Mr. Carling tells me. “I’m going to announce it now, which is why I had the whole team come in early.”
“Oh wow!” I say, drawing on my high school drama class skills.
“Yes. I’m happy for her career, but it’ll be a real loss here, as I know you know,” he continues as we reach the elevators and he punches the Up button. “Luckily she hired some great people to keep the ship going while we interview for her replacement.”
I nod and smile because I’m one of the people she hired. He smiles back, and it gives me confidence. But then, as we step into the elevator and the doors slide closed, he clears his throat and says, “Dixie, someone went to HR yesterday and told them you’re seeing a player.”
