Chapter 9
SISTER OF THE YEAR
Jeremy did cancel his plans as soon as I informed him that I had free hockey tickets for the three of us. He even offered to drive, that’s how excited he was.
Barry sent over tickets as well as a pass for parking and instructions for the special lot next to the stadium.
“How the fuck did you get these?” Jeremy asked as we pulled into the private lot after the security gate.
I hadn’t told him about Barry yet, not because I was keeping it from him, but well, a little bit because I was keeping it from him.
I knew he was going to flip about it when I told him so had been delaying the inevitable.
“Is it because you work at the practice facility? God, please trade me buildings, I am begging you, Han.”
“You’d have to work at 4:00 a.m. or 8:00 p.m.,” I reminded him, a fact he knew well. He groaned.
“You know I need my sleep.”
“Yes, our little diva,” Kate said from the back seat, not looking up from the book she was reading on her phone.
He parked the car, but before he could get out, I put my hand on his forearm.
“Don’t freak out,” I started, and he frowned. He was wearing both a team hat and a team hoodie.
“What did you do?”
Kate snorted and I rolled my eyes. “Nothing, dude, come on.”
“You’re the one being ominous!”
I sighed and chewed on the inside of my cheek. “The father of my unborn child is on the team.”
Jeremy stared blankly at me, then turned to Kate as if she would rat me out for bullshitting him. She looked as solemn as me and added a nod.
“No shit.”
“No shit,” I agreed.
“No, I mean don’t lie about that.”
“I’m not lying. Barry Wright is the father,” I said.
Jeremy pulled an incredulous face and laughed out loud for added effect at how ludicrous he thought this concept was. I kept my face unmoving, waiting for him to be done.
“Hannah, I take back what I’ve always said about you, you are funny after all.” He turned to get out of the car, still chuckling.
“She’s serious,” Kate said from the back seat.
Jeremy paused again, then went silent as he studied both of our faces, waiting for us to break and tell him we were fucking with him. We didn’t.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “You’re serious?”
I nodded again, then inclined my head as if to encompass, well, everything: the baby bump under my sweater, the deluxe parking spot, the free tickets.
“Hannah.”
“Wild, right?” Kate agreed, leaning between our seats from the back. “Baby is going to be really tall.”
“Barry Wright? You didn’t just sleep with a hockey player, you slept with a fucking star, Han.”
“Well, I didn’t know that at the time! Be normal when we go in there, please.” I got out of Jeremy’s car, manually locking the door before shutting it behind me.
“How can I be normal about this ever?” He followed me toward the door I saw others go through. Kate slid her arm into the crook of mine, and not to be left out, Jeremy did too, the pair of them flanking me. “Is he cool? Can I meet him? Oh my God, I can meet him.”
“He’s not cool,” I lied. He’s way, way damn cooler than me. “He’s weird and pushy, but also nice. Tall.”
“Tall,” he agreed, stars in his eyes. “I still can’t believe we got him in that trade, it’s like a miracle.”
The guard at the door scanned our tickets on my phone, and we paused to let them tell us where to go.
“I thought being traded meant you were bad,” I said. “Why would a team trade him if he was such a star?”
“You have so much to learn,” Jeremy said, his turn to sound solemn.
A team employee greeted us warmly before handing me a large bag with the team logo on the side but guided us down a long hall before I could peek inside.
They introduced themself as Lee and brought us to a room with tables of catered food, people milling about and filling their plates buffet style with food that smelled delicious.
Even nervous as I was, I could almost always eat a free meal.
Sitting at a table while my siblings finished their food, I pulled out the contents of the bag and found a tee shirt, two team hoodies, and a cream jersey with 33 WRIGHT on the back.
Jeremy gasped like I was holding a winning lottery ticket.
“Can I please have that?” he whispered, almost reverently.
I shrugged and handed him the jersey, which he did a little jig about before pulling it on over his hoodie. Kate and I donned the other items, ate full plates of deserts that were perfectly passable and more so delicious because they were free, then Jeremy led the charge to find our seats.
“There’re more people here than I thought,” I remarked when we settled in, fourteen rows up on the left side of the rink (insaaaane seats, as Jeremy said).
“What do you mean? You think no one comes to professional hockey games?”
“I just assumed that maybe our team wasn’t very good.”
“Why?” Jeremy asked, offended at the misguided belief. I held up my hands in surrender.
“I thought I would’ve heard about it more if we were good.”
Also, I believed if Barry got traded here that must have meant both he and the team weren’t very good, but it appears I was wrong on both fronts.
“We are already holding down the wild card spot and like three of our best guys are injured, so, yeah, I would say we’re pretty fucking good.”
“Chill, Jer, she’s having a baby with one of them, I think she’s a bigger fan than you are.”
Jeremy didn’t dignify Kate’s joke with more than a raised middle finger as he settled back in his chair with his bag of popcorn and soda—both free, both given by Lee.
The teams came out for warm-ups, and I looked among the men in matching outfits until I saw the tall as hell one with 33 on his jersey, which Jeremy informed me is actually called a sweater.
“There.” I pointed to him as he skated in a circle, eyes scanning the crowd.
“He looks handsome,” Kate muttered, and I had to agree. I didn’t usually think the little outfits athletes have to wear were hot, but Barry was already, undeniably, very hot, and the outfit only added to what he had going on.
He spotted us in the crowd, his gaze moving away then back to us as a smile took over his face. He waved, smile sparkling, and Jeremy gasped.
“He’s waving at Hannah, not you,” Kate reminded him.
“He could’ve been waving at me, I’m the one wearing his number,” Jeremy pointed out.
Meanwhile, Barry was still looking and smiling, and I nodded and waved back. Jeremy and Kate also waved, all three Harvey siblings’ attention on him.
Another player tapped him on the shoulder, drawing his attention from us, and I exhaled a slight breath. Did anyone around us notice he was waving at us? Did they know I was pregnant with his baby?
No, no way. Right?
“Are you like dating him? I thought you were going to single mom this situation,” Jeremy said, and I didn’t razz him for calling the baby a “situation.” She was a situation, that much was true.
“I was. I didn’t know he was going to come to Utah.”
“Did you know he was Barry Wright?” His eyes didn’t leave the ice, though it just looked like the players were stretching and chattering with each other on their sides. Their stretches included these unnatural hip thrusts toward the ice and basically the splits, so I could admit I was enamored too.
“No, I thought he was like a really buff finance guy,” I said honestly. “But then I did see him on TV on Dad’s birthday.”
“And you didn’t think to reach out to him then?” Kate asked, this part of the story new to her, too.
Jeremy tsked. “That’s messed up.”
“I didn’t want him to have to worry about it. And I kind of thought he might try to take her away from me.”
“Her?” Jeremy asked, loud as hell, and spilled some of his popcorn on the floor. “Is the baby a girl?”
Shit.
I glanced at Kate, the only other person who knew the secret besides Barry and me, and she shrugged like I couldn’t take it back now.
I was going to tell the rest of the family together, but well, at a hockey game was as good a time as any to start spreading the news.
“Surprise!” I said. Both of them had tears in their eyes threatening to spill over. A whole family of crybabies, I swear. “Stop crying, why are you crying?”
“I’m happy,” Jeremy said. “A little girl, oh my God, Han.”
“She’s going to be so beautiful.” Kate sniffled.
“And tall! Maybe she can play in the Women’s Hockey League.”
“Alright, alright, pull it together, you saps.” But I was tearing up too. They put their arms around me and squeezed me in a tight sibling hug I am sure Jeremy would deny later if asked about it.
Barry waved one last time before the team left the ice a few minutes later. More people filed into the stadium before the lights went low and loud music started thrumming through speakers while the announcer yelled about the team coming out.
First, four refs came on the ice and skated around doing their own little moves, but Jeremy told me I didn’t have to cheer for them. Kate and I offered respectful applause anyway.
Then came the guys again, this time with more fanfare, loud music, flashing lights, a whole production.
They all wore the same uniform expect for the goalie who had like double the uniform, and the building was cheering so loud I realized I knew nothing about hockey in this state if I thought there would only be a few hundred people here.
In calling out the names of the starting lineup, I gasped to hear the announcer hollering with an extra flare, “NUMBER 33, BARRY WRIGHT!”
The crowd went fucking nuts, not like “reject from Columbus” nuts, like “warm welcome to Utah’s new golden boy” nuts. I cheered too, because both Kate and Jeremy were screaming, and it felt right to do the same.
By the time the game started, my watch was warning me I was in a very loud place, and my heart rate was totally elevated.
On either side of us were season ticket holders who chatted with each other.
The puck was dropped, and Jeremy knew exactly what was happening while I was none the wiser. I needed a Hockey 101 course.