Epilogue
. . .
Jason
“Well, boys,” MacGregor says loudly. “We’ve lost another good one.”
There are jeers from the twenty-two other players assembled in front of him.
“McKittrick’s gone and gotten himself all settled down and boring. He’s hanging up the jersey and pads, but he’s still got his skates.”
“Hey, watch it,” I call out. “I might make you do suicides tomorrow.”
MacGregor laughs. “Seriously, Cap. I am so happy you found this new venture. Even if it means you’ll torture us every day on the ice, this new job couldn’t have went to a better guy. We’re glad you’re still with the team. You’ll always be one of us. A brother.”
“Hear, hear,” Gonzo calls out.
My eyes sting, and I blink a few times, trying to force back the wave of emotions threatening to overtake me.
Beside me, Amelia reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. She’s by my side. I know she’ll always be by my side.
Going out on a career-ending injury is not how I wanted my fourteen years in the NHL to end. I wanted to lift the Cup, to bring the championship back to Boston for the first time in way too many years.
I didn’t get a choice in the matter, though. And now, looking back, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My leg is still healing, but I’m back to walking on two legs and strengthening the muscles every day.
My NHL contract technically doesn’t end until June thirtieth, so even though I’ve played my last game and have no intention of returning to the ice, I can still use the team’s PT staff.
Come July first, though, I’ll have to find someone else—someone outside of the arena.
Luckily, Amelia has friends and colleagues everywhere, and she set me up with a friend of hers from DPT school. Charles is a laid-back dude, who could probably snap me like a twig if he wanted—and that’s saying something, considering my size.
It was important to both me and Amelia that she didn’t handle my PT. Our relationship wouldn’t survive it. I can bitch about Charles torturing me all I want, but at the end of the session, we go our separate ways. Now that Amelia lives with me, there’s not as much separation.
She moved in a few days after the team’s post-season run came to an abrupt end. We were swept by Washington in the second round, dashing all our hopes and dreams.
But not all of mine.
Because I’m finally dreaming again. I’ve thought about a future post-hockey, and yes, it’s scary, but it’s also so freeing.
I’m still not ready to think about marriage. I rushed into it the first time. I won’t make that mistake again. Amelia and I talk about it, and she’s not pushing for a ring, either. We’re taking it day-by-day, one step at a time.
The team is gathered for my official retirement party.
It’s a full family affair. All the support staff joined us, and those with partners and children brought them.
Tyler, Brandon, and Ainsley are here, too.
Most retirement parties aren’t nearly as inclusive, but it was important to me that everyone who wanted to come was invited.
If there’s one thing I’m most proud of, it’s the inclusive and accepting locker room we built and sustained.
We’re all a family, and with the long hours and constant travel, it’s easy to get snippy with each other.
At the end of the day, though, it all comes down to one thing, and that’s sharing the sport we love with the city we love.
Boston is my home. The last eight years here were amazing, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world. Yes, there were some difficult times. But it doesn’t discount how awesome the city is. And it doesn’t take away from all the personal growth I made over the years.
I am who I am because of hockey. Because of the Boston Grizzlies. And because of Amelia.
Her love gets me through the bad days. She supports me in so many ways. Sometimes, I think she doesn’t even recognize how much she does. And I do my best to support her right back. To show her each and every day just how much I love her.
My thoughts on marriage aside, there’s no denying that I see a future for us. Whether or not it’s a legal relationship, there’s no changing how I feel about her. I’m committed to her. To us. To our future. Together. We’re partners in every sense of the world.
As the party drags on, Amelia and I mingle with our friends. Teammates. Coworkers. Come Monday morning, everything changes. I’ll be in a position of authority over the guys I think of as my brothers. It’s a step beyond being captain.
I’m ready for it, though. And I already know who the next guy to wear the C is.
MacGregor is talking to his sister Hailey and Logan, who looks as smitten with her as ever. Catching his eye, I wave him over, and he threads his way through the party to where I’m standing near the drinks table.
“What’s up, Cap?” he says, tossing his water bottle from one hand to the other, and then back again.
My smile is tinged with sadness. “I’m not your captain anymore.”
He shakes his head. “You’ll always be our captain. Except when you’re our coach.” MacGregor gives a cheeky grin, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Unless you’d like us to call you Coach Captain.”
“Oh, fuck off,” I groan. “I wanted to say something nice to you, but if you’re going to be a dick…”
“Aww, you like me,” he teases. “Tell me.”
Blowing out a breath, I meet his eyes. “I think you should be the next captain of the Boston Grizzlies.”
MacGregor blinks a few times. “What the fuck?”
His shout draws attention from the other partygoers, and I shake my head to hide my smile.
“I’m recommending you to Coach Turner for the open captain position.”
“Me? You’re nuts.”
“Maybe so. I still think it should be you.”
He gapes at me, his mouth hanging open.
“You’ve led this team for the last few months. When I went out, you took over seamlessly, leading the boys when I couldn’t.”
MacGregor frowns. “But I couldn’t win you a Cup.”
“And that’s okay. We did our best. It wasn’t our fault that Washington was simply better.”
Although since they went on to the Stanley Cup Finals, I guess it doesn’t hurt as much as if they’d lost in the Conference Finals.
“We can’t win every year,” I continue. “It just means we’ll work harder next season. And I think you should be the one to lead the team.”
He cocks his head, clearly thinking it over.
“We don’t need an answer yet. Enjoy your offseason, consider all your options.” I clap his shoulder. “But you should say yes. It’s a lot of work, but it’s so fucking rewarding.”
MacGregor swallows. “I know I’m not the most social guy...”
“Yeah, so maybe you’ll have to go out a little bit more,” I concede.
Considering he never goes out, anything more would be an improvement.
“But being captain is more than being out at the bar with the guys. It’s about the team as a whole gelling, and being able to lead when we’re down three nothing with two minutes left.
Or when we’re on a losing streak and nobody can get their heads out of their asses.
It’s the bad as much as it’s the good. I don’t want to scare you off.
It’s a lot of fucking work. But going out there with the C on your chest… There’s nothing like it.”
“I’ll think about it,” MacGregor promises. He clears his throat, nodding behind me. “Incoming.”
I turn to find Amelia approaching, Ainsley on her hip. Tyler is across the room, talking to Andrews and Joaquin.
“Hey, you,” I say as she draws near. I reach for the baby’s chubby fist, and she wraps her tiny fingers around my pinky. My heart melts. “Having fun?”
“Oh, she’s having a blast,” Amelia reports. Ainsley is ten and a half months old, and already the belle of the ball. She was passed around the party all day, and even Sinclair and Jenkins showed interest in the baby.
Between her and Leo, Larsson’s son, it seems like everyone has baby fever. Easton’s wife Mel is pregnant again, and Henry’s wife Audrey is talking to Vanessa and Jacky about strollers.
Not me. Amelia and I are happily child-free, and I had the vasectomy to prove it.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s the one for me, and that we’re in this for the long haul. We’re in a good place. Sure, there’s a lot of change on the horizon for us. Moving in together was a big step. Switching from player to coach is sure to be emotional.
But with her by my side, I can do anything. She makes me more confident in myself and my decision. She believes in me, so how can I not?
Amelia hands me the baby, and I cuddle Ainsley in my arms. She squirms closer, burying her face in my neck, and I rove my hand over her small back. The baby loves me, and not just because I babysit her every other Thursday afternoon while Tyler is at work.
In a few weeks, we’re going to the lake house to meet my family. My brother and sisters will be there with my nieces and nephews. It’ll be a very loud week. Rewarding, too, though.
I told them bits and pieces about Amelia.
We did a few video chats. But it’s not the same as meeting them in person.
We invited Tyler to join us, but since Brandon has a stretch of home games, he wants to be home with his husband.
I don’t blame him. Maybe next year, he’ll join us if our trip lines up with an away series.
We see them regularly, and not just through our windows.
Most Sunday mornings, Tyler has us over for brunch, and although we’ve invited him over multiple times, he insists on hosting Friday night dinners at his place, too.
We go to nearly all of Brandon’s games, now that hockey season is over, and it’ll be a jam-packed summer of baseball.
It’s funny. It’s not the life I imagined for myself. It’s certainly not the life I had a year ago. But it’s one I wouldn’t change for the world.
Amelia leans close, hugging me and her niece at the same time.
“I love you,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine.
“I love you, more.”
Want more of Amelia and Jason? Here’s a deleted scene five years later.
The story continues with Power Play, where Gonzo finds a baby on his doorstep… and the baby’s fiery aunt, who doesn’t want to give up custody.