Chapter 13 Toni
Toni
“The Serbians aren’t going to be as easy to beat as the Finns,” Coach told the assembled players.
For the record, nothing about beating the Finns had been easy, but we all knew better than to open our mouths.
“The Serbians are ruthless. They have discipline, and a genuine hunger to succeed. It’s going to be important that you all work together as one, a well-oiled machine.”
She looked around, meeting our eyes one by one. “Hopefully those of you who overindulged after the Finland game are fully recovered, because I need you all at one hundred percent.”
I winced. Of course Coach had heard about our shenanigans.
The group I was in had been tame though.
Some of the other players had hooked up with some guys from the men’s team and drank their way across the city.
They’d all looked way rougher than Yvonne when we got to practice the following afternoon.
“Now get out there and scrimmage.”
Today Yvonne and I were on the same side, and we fell into a nice rhythm, playing off each other. She’d block the other side, and I’d slip past them, either passing the puck or scoring, depending on what was happening.
After years of training, I kept my focus solely on the workout, even though I was dying to think about my time with Yvonne yesterday.
We’d taken a long walk, enjoying the sunshine and soaking up the Vitamin D in a way we couldn’t do in the rainy winters of Seattle and Vancouver.
Afterwards we went to the gym to sit in the sauna and do some detoxing.
We sat on opposite sides of the small cedar room, wrapped in tiny towels that left very little to the imagination, sipping water and relaxing.
Every once in a while I’d open an eye and allow myself to admire the long curve of Yvonne’s muscular leg, or the gentle curve of her shoulder.
For some reason, the sight of her delicate collar bone had fascinated me.
And maybe I was crazy, but I could swear she was checking me out when my eyes were closed.
I had it bad for her, I couldn’t deny it.
She was an adorable drunk the other night, unfiltered and unintentionally funny.
Our teammates hadn’t missed the way she’d hung on me, touching me, resting her head on my shoulder.
I was sure they were curious what was going on with us, but they were too polite to ask.
The next day we were up early, heading to the gym to do some gentle stretching before our late morning game. Yvonne and I were heading to the stadium, the rest of the team a little ahead of us, when I heard someone calling my name.
“Toni bologna!”
I turned to see my parents rushing up to me. Like me, my parents were both fair skinned with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, thanks to their Nordic heritage.
“Mom! Dad!”
The took turns pulling me into a hug, my huge bear of a father hugging me so tight that he lifted me off my feet. Yvonne watched the scene curiously, as if she’d never seen familial affection before. Maybe she hadn’t.
“Mom, Dad, this is my teammate Yvonne Volkova.”
“You play for Vancouver, right?” Dad asked. He coached for the men’s league but due to my involvement in the sport he followed the women’s league just as closely.
“Yes sir,” she said politely.
“Well you’re a hell of a player. Glad you’re on our team.”
She gave him a real smile then, and it lit up her face. “Thank you.”
“Look, we’ve got to get to the locker room or Coach will chew our asses,” I said. “Can I catch up with you guys after the game?”
“Of course,” Mom said. “Why don’t you come to our place for dinner? I’ll cook.”
She turned to Yvonne. “We have an Airbnb in the city. You’ll come too, Yvonne.”
I couldn’t say why, but I had the strangest feeling that my mother knew that something was going on between me and Yvonne. She was intuitive that way.
Yvonne seemed surprised by the invitation.
“She’d love to,” I answered for her. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Uh yes, thank you Mrs. Lindstrom.”
My parents headed to find their seats and Yvonne and I continued on our way to the players’ entrance.
“That was nice of your mother to invite me to dinner, but I don’t want to intrude on your family time.”
“Don’t bail on me, Volkova, my mother will kill me. That wasn’t a pro forma invite, she likes you.”
“She doesn’t know me,” Yvonne said in confusion.
“Mom doesn’t need to know you,” I explained. “She’s famous for making split decisions. She decided if she liked you before she even opened her mouth. The funny thing is, she’s never really wrong.”
“You seem close with your parents,” she noted.
“Super close, but not in a creepy way. I’m close to my brother too. He was supposed to be here too, but the doofus didn’t renew his passport in time. It’s a miracle he can run a large accounting company in New York City on his own, but he can’t manage simple tasks.”
For some reason, that made her look sad. Her expression was blank as ever, but I saw the sadness cross her eyes.
As we entered the stadium, I reached out and squeezed her hand.
“Whatever you’re thinking, push it out of your brain.
You’ve got one job right now and that’s to be the best damned hockey defender the U.S.
of A. ever sent to the International Games.
You keep those Serbians away from me, so I can score some goals. Got it?”
“Got it,” she said, giving me a snappy salute.
It made me feel a certain way.
“I like that. Maybe later you can call me ma’am,” I said in an exaggerated sexy voice.
Yvonne burst out laughing. “You’re a little crazy, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea.”