I pull into the lot and park in the back behind the building because there are already people gathering outside. I kind of want to avoid the crowds until later. My phone buzzes in my pocket with a text alert.
Declan: Have a blast. Wish I was there. Kick Jake and Logan’s asses, please.
I smile and send him back a thumbs up emoji. And then I send him an eggplant emoji just for fun.
I hear a car door slam and look over and see Jay getting out of his fancy sports car. I want to tell him that thing will be as useful as a handbrake in a canoe when winter hits Maine but I don’t. They’ll be time to warn him later, when he’s learned to like me. “Hey.”
He looks up from his own phone as I shove mine in my pocket. “Hey. You avoiding your adoring fans?”
“I figured I would go out and sign crap and everything after the game. Right now I wanna get focused,” I explain and Jay chuffs out a breath in judgement.
“It’s a bunch of old guys, not a real game,” he reminds me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I know,” I decide to confront his head-on. “Are you still holding on to that fight in the first round?”
“When you punched me because you couldn’t get the puck away from me?” Jay asks and I shake my head.
“When we got into it after you wouldn’t stop spearing me.” That’s what happened but dirty players like Jay never see things fairly.
“You were dancing in my crease like you were possessed by Sean Avery,” he snaps. “And the refs were like three blind mice out there so I had to defend my space.”
“I wasn’t doing that at all,” I reply calmly. “I was waiting for a pass to tip. You had all the space you needed.”
“You’re not supposed to touch the goalies. Unwritten rule.”
Jay is right. Goalies get a pass on aggressive play as much as possible. But he’s also the only goalie in the league who consistently gets penalties almost every game, especially if his team is losing, which they were that game. It was the game we knocked them out of the playoffs.
“Yeah. I apologize but my kidneys had had enough,” I say. “But now we’re on the same team, so we need to let the past go, right? We have mutual goals now.”
Jay pulls open the back door to the arena. “If it makes you feel any better, that’s not the only reason I’m not thrilled we’re on the same team, Barlowe.”
“What else is it then?”
“You guys are right on time!” Pennie’s voice is so high with excitement it reverberates down the hall. Her heels click wildly on the linoleum as she rushes toward us. She’s got her long hair pulled up in a fancy twist and is talking into her phone. “I’ll reconfirm with Abbott after the event. He just got here but we have a lot to handle first. Yes. I promise I’ll get back to you by tonight. Thanks.”
“Hi, Jay. Abbott, you got a minute?” I nod at her and she turns to Jay. “Locker room is on the left.”
It’s like she’s dismissing him and even though I know she doesn’t mean it that way, Jay scowls and I’m sure he blames me for it. He stomps off down the hall. I smile at Pennie but before I can ask her what’s up, she’s already telling me. “TNHN, The National Hockey Network, wants to do a profile of your day with the Cup. They’ll film the whole damn thing and do interviews with your friends and family and old coaches.”
“Okay. But aren’t there already other people doing that?”
She shakes her head. “Not this extensively. And also, not sponsored by Wander Sports Wear.”
“They’re involved?”
She nods again this time so fast and furious it blurs my vision. “It would also kick off your six-figure endorsement deal with them.”
My jaw drops so far open I swear it hits my shoes. Pennie starts jumping up and down and I have no idea how she doesn’t break an ankle in those stilettos she’s sporting. She hugs me. “Your agent has the contract now. He let me tell you. I’m the one who kind of suggested you when they called the Riptide and said they wanted a partnership with someone on the team.”
“Oh my God, thanks Pennie. I don’t even know what to say.” I squeeze her and reach for my phone. I want to call Deck and tell him, and then Aspen and… ugh I want to yell it from the roof tops. This is a big deal and not just because of the money. Although that is epic. It’s a great brand of sustainable clothing I actually believe in and one good endorsement deal can lead to many more.
“We have to keep it on the DL until the ink is dry, as I know you know,” Pennie warns, and I do know which is why, although I wrapped my hand around my phone in my pocket, I didn’t pull it out. “Now go get ready and give these guys a show.”
I nod, thank her again, and head to the locker room. Luckily Jay isn’t the only one in there. Briggs is already here and so are ten other guys from teams as far away as San Francisco and Las Vegas and Vancouver. But they’re all born and bred New Englanders like me.
We dress with music blaring from a Bluetooth speaker. Everyone is in a great mood because there’s no pressure at all. In fact, a few of the guys are strategizing on how to let the other team score a few without making it look obvious. I think of the guys I know on the team. Logan was a competent player but likely not a threat to any of these guys. Jake’s size gives him a good edge but he didn’t play growing up other than a few pick-up games when he could borrow Mr. Hawkins’ skates. He was a foster kid most of the time with no money for equipment. Ronan… well if he plays today, he’s actual competition. He was on all my teams through juniors. I don’t know why he didn’t go to college on a hockey scholarship. He could have.
Pennie calls us out and we head through the back of the arena toward the ice. Our coach is the Chief of Police and the coach for the emergency responders is our Riptide coach. The announcer is a local radio host from the rock station. We all get introduced one by one and the crowd is full and loud. They came for a good time. I can’t help but chuckle at some of the banners. “Briggs is Beautiful” and “McBride McSlays” and a few for me including “Barlowe Will You Marry Me?” from a girl who looks to still be in college, if that.
