Fortunately, conversation had moved back to hockey at that point, and Jason had casually put his arm around the back of my chair, caressing my shoulder. To anyone else, it would look like normal affection, but he and I both knew it was support, even if we didn’t dwell on Hunter.
While Jason’s at training camp, I spend my days lounging, practicing, and looking for places to teach and perform. I heard back from the audition coach I emailed before moving here, but he doesn’t have room in his schedule for me. He did recommend someone else, though, so I’ve emailed her.
If the goal is for me to establish myself, I need to get started. I’d intended to hit the ground running, but getting sick and then planning a last-minute wedding sort of derailed that plan.
Toward the end of the first week of training camp, I get a text from Marissa.
Marissa
You busy tomorrow afternoon?
The only thing on my schedule is practicing
Is that something you need to do at a set time? Or can you just do it whenever as long as it gets done?
The second. Why? What’s happening tomorrow afternoon?
Yay! Okay. You, me, Maggie, and Tina are having a spa day. It’s going to be super fun. We’ll have massages and mimosas and you’ll get to meet Tina. She’s been dying to meet you, and this way you’ll know someone else when preseason games start in a couple weeks
“Why do I need to know someone else before preseason games?” I ask myself quietly.Unless …
Marissa and Maggie have both mentioned wives and girlfriends as a kind of group before. WAGs, I think they said, which sounds ridiculous, if you ask me. But I guess no one asked me. Either way, it seems like I’m part of this group now—since I’m a wife.That’s so weird…
I’m a wife. Of a hockey player. And somehow inducted into an elite group of women who all attend games, or so it seems.
Which I think means that I’m expected to attend games, too.
But what if I have a gig? Or a symphony concert? Do I get an excuse if I’m working too?
Do I need an excuse? It’s not like it’s school …
Either way, Marissa’s reaching out, and I’ve been lamenting my lack of real friendships for a while, even before I moved here. It’d be dumb for me to turn her down, even if I don’t necessarily want to go to every single hockey game Jason plays.
Sounds good. What time?
We have a reservation at 2. I’ll pick you up at 1:30
See you then!
That response is entirely more chirpy than my actual personality, but I want to seem excited. And I am, even if I’m not a hundred percent sure what exactly I’m getting into.
I’ve had a massage a couple times in college—Paul got me one as a gift for Valentine’s Day once, and I sprang for one as a graduation gift to myself. But money’s been too tight to splurge on something like that ever since.
Either way, I know massages are nice. It’s the rest I’m a little unsure about. I’ve never been the type to be part of a girl group that does spa days and drinks mimosas, so I’m not sure how that’ll work exactly, but I’m willing to give it a try.
When Jason gets home later, I’m sitting on the couch watching a show. He grins at me, though weariness seems to drag down his shoulders. “Hey! How was your day?”
“Good. I got good practice in, and I scheduled my audition. It’s in three weeks.”
“Oooh, that’s great. Good luck!”
“Thanks!” I grin at him, really enjoying this kind of back and forth. He’s so supportive, cheering me on, telling me how amazing it is that I’m getting things lined up already.
“I also found out about sub auditions for the Seattle Symphony. They’re a few months out, so I have time to prepare. And I’m working on finding an audition coach.” I fill him in on emailing the person I was referred to.
Nodding, he heads to his bedroom with his duffel bag, then reappears a second later, empty-handed. “That sounds smart. Even as a professional athlete, we have coaches. Sure, I know”—he taps his temple—“all the things I’m supposed to do. But it helps to have someone who can see the big picture, who knows how we’re all supposed to fit and work together to make that a reality. I know music isn’texactlythe same, but having someone who can listen and analyze what you’re doing to help you be your best? That makes total sense to me.”
“And you’re still okay with how much it’ll cost?”
