“You’re ready,” he says.
My shoulders sag in relief. This man always knows what I need to hear.
Of course, I’ll never let him know that. “Obviously.”
“Fuck, this is so cool,” Jarred says. He’s like an excitable puppy. About every twenty-five seconds, he interrupts, reminding one of us of a highlight from our career.
It’s sweet. I’m touched, really, that he knows so much about mine.
He has this funny habit while in the crease of making noises every time he blocks a shot.
Boing. Ding. Bing.
Like he’s a pinball machine. It’s oddly entertaining. Like those ridiculous ASMR videos my little sisters love so much.
But he’s good. And young. He’s got the time and the talent to become great. And working with the three of us? We’ll make sure it happens. It’s fun. Molding players. I can see why Gavin enjoys coaching so much.
I, however, am thrilled to be back in the crease.
“Make sure you get some sleep tonight.” With that, Brooks releases us.
The second we’re in the hallway, Jarred is bouncing by my side. “Are you excited? You must be so excited. Your first game in the NHL. This is huge, Addie. Huge!”
Joy washes over me. His excitement is contagious. “Yeah, I am excited. Thanks, Jer.”
He rubs his hands together. “Doing anything to celebrate? You guys have a pizza tradition, right?”
Brows furrowed, I eye JJ. How does this kid know about that?
“He talked about it during one of his first interviews,” Jarred says.
“You did?”
“You don’t remember?” he teases, acting affronted.
I’m smiling. I can’t stop smiling. Today is a good day. Hell, any day is a good day lately. I spend my days playing hockey with JJ, and at night…we’re…doing okay. We have dinner as a family. Not just JJ and Avery and me, but the whole crew. Even my brother. He’s around all the time now that his season is over. The Revs didn’t make it to the world series, though Finn isn’t as heartbroken about it as I thought he’d be.
We were in California on Halloween, which killed JJ. But the two of us FaceTimed with Avery, who carried Vivi’s phone the whole time she was out trick-or-treating with the rest of our crew.
JJ and I sat side by side on the bed in his hotel room, so close our thighs touched, with my iPad propped up. We went for the bigger screen to get a better view of Avery’s costume. The two of us ate so many Twizzlers while we watched her that I had a stomachache that night.
The pain turned out to be a good thing.
Otherwise I don’t know that I could have left JJ alone after we said good night to his little girl.
He was struggling. Wearing a fake smile while talking to Avery while his body language screamed devastation. I can’t imagine the stress he’s under as Avery’s only present parent. It kills me that she doesn’t have a mother who would do anything for her like mine does for me. But she’s got JJ, and if he could clone himself so he could work and be with Avery at all times, he wouldn’t hesitate.
If Sidney had been healthy, he could have made both work. He could have taken a red-eye after tucking Avery in and been back in time to dress for the game. But without Sidney, JJ’s presence on the ice has been mandatory, and traveling overnight like that would be too much of a risk.
It’s a relief knowing he shouldn’t have to face a situation like that again for the rest of the season.
Because he’s got me.
I’m practically bursting with excitement. Like there’s a firecracker show in my chest, erupting in reds and greens and—who the hell am I kidding? The only color it’s shooting is Bolts blue. I was meant for this team. Meant to wear this color. And tomorrow, I get to do that on the ice.
“I don’t remember every interview you ever gave,” I say flippantly. Though there was a time I hung on his every word, so I probably saw it and was positively giddy when he told the press about our little tradition. “But pizza is for after games, not before.” My phone buzzes in my pocket as I explain to Jarred.
“Let’s do something else to celebrate, then,” JJ says.
