Epilogue
Cooper
I t’s been a week since the press conference, and this is the first time I’ve left my apartment since. After telling Coach James everything that happened, he graciously offered to take over coaching the team until I could get everything finalized here in Portland.
Today is my meeting with Henry, and I still have no idea what I’m going to do. My Beauty said she’d support any decision I make, and I know she will, but there’s a part of me that wants to take her as far away from all of this as possible, choosing to opt out of the final year of my contract and retire. But a life without hockey in it isn’t the life for me. I need the ice beneath my skates and the adrenaline rush of scoring the game-winning goal to truly be happy. Hockey is in my blood. Do I let one terrible experience ruin years of amazing ones?
The elevator dings loudly, signaling I’ve reached Henry’s office. The doors open to an open area, the walls lined with different photos and team gear from over the years. I spot a photo of Beau and me, holding the Stanley Cup over our heads after we won the franchise their first one. Further down the hall, there is a photo of Beau saving the game-winning penalty shot against our brother, Cole.
“Good afternoon, Cooper,” April, Henry’s receptionist, says from her place behind her desk. “Henry is waiting for you. Go on in whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, April.” I smile at her before shoving my hands into my jeans pockets and striding toward the door. I knock twice and wait for Henry to give me permission to enter.
I push open the door to find Henry already on his feet, headed toward me. “Thanks for coming today, Cooper. Do you want anything? Coffee, tea, or soda?”
“No, I'm good. Thanks, Henry.”
I take a seat in one of the plush chairs flanking his desk and look out the window. It’s another beautiful day for this time of year. I can see Mount Hood clearly on the horizon, the city skyline framing it perfectly.
Henry is the one who wanted to have this meeting, so I’m going to let him speak first. I still want to have some time to make a decision, or at least figure out what I’m going to say to him about what happened. I talked to my therapist before coming here today, and she said to let him lead the conversation but to make sure I let him know how the events of the last few months have made me feel.
“I just want to apologize again for everything. I let my love for my daughter cloud my judgment.” I can hear the sincerity in his tone as he takes a seat across from me.
“I understand. But I also want you to understand that there has been trust broken. I relied on you to always have my best interest at heart. To protect me from threats to my career. Your daughter was a threat of epic proportions.”
“Although she suggested we send you back to Redwood Falls, we didn’t make that decision lightly.” He pulls out a desk drawer, pulling out a large stack of paper. “I already sent this over to your agent to look at, but I wanted to give this to you personally.”
“What is it?”
“Your new contract.” He slides the stack toward me before leaning back in his chair. “We sent you back to your hometown to coach to see how you would do, and you exceeded all our expectations.”
I grab the stack of paper from his desk and flip through it. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around this new turn of events. I came into this meeting thinking I was going to dissolve my contract with the team, playing for one final year before retiring. I’m not ready to retire, but I can’t bring myself to play anywhere but here in Portland.
“Cooper, you have become a household name here. People come to our games to see you play just as much as they come to enjoy rooting for their hometown team. We wanted to continue to capitalize on that after you retire. This contract offers you another two years with the team and a guarantee that upon retirement you’ll take over the position of head coach.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I reach up to rub the back of my neck. “Is Coach okay with this?”
“He’s the one who suggested it.”
That’s news to me. I didn’t know Coach was looking to retire soon. He started his coaching career when I joined the NHL at eighteen. After twelve years, it makes sense that he’d want to hang up his whistle and enjoy life. But me? I’ve played hockey almost my entire life, and I think I did a pretty decent job with the hockey club, but those were twelve-year-old boys.
“How would the transition happen?”
“Everything is laid out in the contract. Coach came up with a detailed plan of how he can integrate you into the coaching plan while you're still playing. He wants you to get a feel for how the program runs from a coaching standpoint. Then he’ll be here to answer questions and help implement changes you want made before he turns the team over completely.”
Sounds like a sweet deal and totally negates my worries about not being ready. If I do this, I’ll be trained by one of the greatest coaches currently in the league. I’ll be able to get a feel from the team if this is even something they’d be open to, but I have a feeling they may have already been discussing it with them in my absence. This could work out well for me and solidify a spot in Portland for me indefinitely.
“Read it over. Talk to Ramona and ask her how this aligns with your plans for the future. I’m willing to make any reasonable changes to the contract you want. I owe you for keeping Annamarie’s involvement in Ramona’s accident private.”
“I’m just glad she’s getting the help she needs,” I respond, and I truly mean that. I’ve started my healing journey by going to therapy three times a week via teleconference, and Beauty found a grief group meeting that we plan to go to at the community center. I was hesitant to agree to anything in a group setting, but she assured me that although it might be a shock to the other group members for me to be there, after a while, I’ll be just another person.
“Me, too. The doctor says she has a long way to go, but with meds and a lot of therapy, we’re hopeful.”
“Don’t rush it. Healing is a process. There are days when you take three steps backward instead of going forward and other days where you feel you could conquer the world.”
“You sound like you're speaking from experience.”
“I am.” I push to my feet, tucking the thick contract under my arm as I hold my hand toward him. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions or would like any changes made.”
It's only been a week since I started processing my grief and searching for the reasons I was actively harming myself as a punishment for some undefined crime of my past, but it feels more like an eternity. At the end of each of my first three sessions, I felt raw and emotionally drained, but my Beauty was there to help me pick up the pieces. I know that as I continue through therapy, things will get easier to handle, but it’s always going to be an uphill battle.
“Anything you want, Cooper. I really do owe you one.” Henry grasps my hand, giving it a firm shake as an idea forms in my mind.
Cole is still having issues with securing his contract with the Wolverines, with all negotiations ceasing a few days ago. Remy has no idea what he plans to do, but maybe I can facilitate my brother being a little closer to home for a little while.
“If you really mean it about that favor, I think I already have something in mind.”
Thank you for reading A Scoring Chance from Myself! I hope you loved Ramona and Cooper’s story. If you did, or even if your didn’t, I would be so grateful if you could please leave a review.