8. Theo
I hadn’t been the new kid in class in a very long time. Despite being a long way from my childhood, the feeling of walking into an established group dynamic was still daunting.
The captain and alternate captain on this team were a well-known dynamic duo in the league. Every team had a rhythm. I had a feeling that Reese Michaels and Ryan Campbell set the tone for the Tempests.
I’d had a brief welcome-to-the-team call with Toronto’s head coach, Jacob Reyes, before I left Vancouver. Everything else I had learned from the team services manager, Christine. She’d helped me arrange everything from a place to stay while I settled into the city to moving my belongings across the country to getting an assistant to stock my fridge so I wouldn’t have to worry about starving when I arrived in my temporary condo.
I walked into the arena for my first practice, wondering what the vibe was going to be like. Already off-kilter from my run-in with Indie the day before, I needed this first introduction to the team to go well.
Christine, the angel, had also prearranged all of my security clearance, so I breezed through the check-in area with several minutes to spare before I needed to find Coach Reyes.
My phone ringing was the last thing I expected.
Worry spiked in my gut as I saw Emery’s name on my phone. Was it Dad? My brothers? Was she in trouble? Ever since my mom passed away, I couldn’t shake the sliver of fear that chilled my blood every time my phone rang.
“Em, you okay?” I picked up, apprehension making my voice a little hoarse.
She must have heard the concern in my tone since she was quick to reassure me rather than remind me that she was still mad at me for the trade lack of communication debacle.
“Whoa, Theo. Everything’s fine. Why would you think something’s wrong?”
Since I couldn’t tell her the truth, I opted for teasing. Emery didn’t need to carry my issues too. I’d left my siblings behind to flee from my own problems.
“Well, considering you’re allergic to phone calls, you can imagine why I’m surprised.” I forced as much humor into my tone as I could. If my joke landed a little flat, Emery was kind enough not to push me for what was really going on.
That was Emery in a nutshell. The sweetest, kindest person I knew. A literal ray of sunshine.
“Ha ha. Very funny. I’ll have you know, I make phone calls on a regular basis. Some of these tenured professors have a moral imperative to keep us frozen in the 1900s.”
Her graduate studies in fine arts came with teaching assignments for a variety of academic personalities. I’d been so wrapped up in my own worries about my knee injuries and what it meant for my NHL career that I didn’t even know what she was teaching this term .
Emery was on her way to becoming a professor, just like our mom had been. Though I’d had my doubts about her choice—she’d been so passionately dedicated to creating art throughout her childhood and teenage years—she’d insisted on pursuing her master’s and PhD. She had been 100 percent adamant at eighteen that this was what she wanted to do.
“I’m going to be Professor Yao one day, T. That way, I can honor Mom’s memory the way you have.”
I’d chosen to wear Mom’s name only on my jersey from the moment I’d been drafted, even before we’d lost her. She’d been my number one supporter and fan. I was only here because of her unwavering commitment to my childhood dreams.
“Ouch, sis. Don’t say the 1900s like it was all Gold Rush fever and fur traders when I was a kid.” I felt ancient now that the internet had made that a thing.
“It was… close, I’d say. Anyway, I’m not committing Gen Z blasphemy by picking up the phone for nothing, T. I wanted to wish you good luck with your new team on your first day of practice.”
Well, shit. She’d hit me right in the chest with that one. Even fifty pounds of goalie gear wouldn’t have shielded my heart from her thoughtfulness.
“Em…” I paused, not having the words to convey how much she meant to me. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today.”
She was quiet on the other end of the line for a moment.
“I’m glad I called, then.” Her tone was bright. “But you know I’m still mad at you, though, right?” She punctuated her statement with a laugh.
The sentimentality that had pressure forming behind my eyes receded to a bearable level when her inability to resist needling me took over once again. Sibling rivalry ran strong among the four of us.
“Yeah, I’m really sorry I let you down, Em.” Even though her tone was teasing, she had every right to still be mad at me.
The distance the earlier years of my career created between me and my siblings had helped me survive those first seasons without Mom. I’d panicked at the thought of coping with my siblings’ grief on top of my own. When I essentially ran away from home and made hockey my entire personality, I only hurt our connection further.
I’d stopped reaching out to them, only making a few half-hearted offers to have them up to see me play. Whether they consciously or unconsciously understood the wall I’d put up between myself and the family, they stopped mentioning coming to any of the Vancouver home games.
Instead, I gathered passive news about their lives via social media and when they’d text me anything they wanted to share. Each time I’d shut them out created a layer of regret I’d worked hard to push to the back of my mind. With Mom gone, a part of me got stuck as the eighteen-year-old rookie who didn’t know how to relate to anyone.
Emery’s sigh was deep enough to carry across the line.
I wasn’t in the running for brother of the year, that was certain.
“I’d say having one of the best goalies in the NHL for a brother isn’t a letdown by anyone’s imagination.” There she went again, trying to give me the benefit of the doubt.
“It’s the ‘brother’ part I’ve let you down on, Em. This trade shook up everything inside me that I’d been pushing away for so long. I want to do better.”
She didn’t say anything in return, which told me all I needed to know. The guilt that had been growing year after year was a lead weight in my stomach.
The bang of a heavy metal door brought my awareness back to my surroundings. I’d ducked into a random hallway just inside the practice facility when Emery’s call came through. But now, I heard distant voices echoing down the hall. As loath as I was to end this long overdue conversation with my sister, I didn’t need my new team all up in my business on the first day.
“Listen, I don’t want to go, but I feel like a couple dozen hockey players are about to invade the area where I’m standing. Let’s talk again soon, okay? I want to hear about your worst students and have you tell me they can’t even compete with the twins. And make sure to tell me when your next exhibition is so that I can see if I can make something work.”
If I was going to be a better brother, it meant showing up. For a start.
“I’d really love that, Theo.” Her voice was quiet. She only did that when she really wanted something but was too scared to ask for it.
My gut clenched again. When was the last time I’d seen any of her work in person?
Too long.
We only had time for a quick goodbye before two familiar faces came around the corner toward where I was standing.
Granted, I was used to seeing them in a helmet on the ice. But it was easy enough to recognize Michaels and Campbell from their easy camaraderie on or off the ice.
Despite playing against them several times a year, I’d barely given more than a cursory greeting to either of them over the years.
Even though I was older than nearly everyone on this team, I was way out of my comfort zone.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Vezina Award winner two years running. I’m still not over that wrist shot you blocked in game six.” Campbell wasted no time in eyeing me like he planned to hold that against me for the foreseeable future.
“Easy, man. Yao’s not used to your shenanigans yet. You could do him the courtesy of letting him settle in before you start needling him.” Michaels gave me an easy smile. He held out his hand and stopped in front of me. “Welcome to the team. Things happened pretty quick, eh?”
I took his hand, returning his firm shake. The three of us stepped to the side to let some of the other players pass on their way to the locker room. I nodded as a couple of groups passed us by.
“Thank you. It’s how things go, I know. It’s just different when it happens to you, you know?”
“I hear ya. Three seasons ago, I was in your place. That’s how I got stuck with this guy.” The captain jerked his thumb at Campbell, who feigned an insulted expression. “Unfortunately, the powers that be seem to think we ‘complement’ each other.”
“I can tell you right now that’s not true,” Campbell chimed in. “I haven’t said a single nice thing to your face in all the years we’ve known each other.” He bumped Michaels with his shoulder, his antics drawing a chuckle from both of us.
Michaels just rolled his eyes in response, clearly used to his alternate captain’s brand of humor.
It was clear these two had each other’s backs, despite all the ribbing. No wonder they led such a powerhouse of an offensive line.
“I’m sure you need to see Coach before long.” Michaels checked his phone. “But we’ve still got an hour before we need to be on the ice. We’ll show you your locker.”
“You’ll love it. I blackmailed Lapointe with last year’s holiday party photos to switch spots so you could be right next to me.” Campbell gave me an exaggerated wink.
I had a feeling that the defenseman to whom he was referring was just being nice to the new guy. But all the same, Campbell struck me as a man who liked to keep people on their toes.
“I even talked him into leaving you last season’s lucky socks.” He snickered as he put his arm around my neck to guide me toward the locker room and whatever biohazard awaited me.
On second thought, maybe this wasn’t so much a “welcome” as an initiation ritual.