Chapter 4
TYLER
The guys leave the ice in an orderly way, which is surprising since we’re all beat. Coach worked us hard. We’ve won our last three games, but he wasn’t happy with our penalty kill the other night and felt we let too many soft goals through.
Didn’t help that Smith ended up in the penalty box for a fight that didn’t need to happen, and I followed three minutes later. In my defense, at the time it seemed logical. The ref should have called tripping but he didn’t, so I took out a little anger.
“Ives.” Coach states my name with the underlying tone that I better get my ass over, as he wants a word.
Asher Tate is new this season. He’s fair, well respected, but takes no prisoners when it comes to compassion.
It’s worse because he’s my older second cousin.
The age difference is enough that we’re not that close.
I’m lucky that nobody thinks he gives me special treatment; if anything, he’s harder on me.
His brother, Shaw, is even on a rival team.
Probably for the best, as he is wild. Besides, there is another team in the league where the coach has his son-in-law on the team.
That’s got to mean fucking awkward family dinners.
Basically, having family in the same league isn’t unusual.
Walking in my skates to the side where he stands by a bench, his look is unreadable as always. “You’ve been playing the best hockey of your career, but if you pull any more shit that lands you a penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct again, then I won’t be pleased.”
“Yes, Coach.” Because I don’t dare say his first name.
“We’re lucky you were able to come back and play the other week after your injury, so let’s not ruin it. Understand?”
“Yes, Coach.” What else can I say?
He hums a sound and lifts his nose slightly. “I don’t care about players’ personal lives but consider actually taking a day off mentally on Thanksgiving. I can’t have you on edge. If the other guys can do it, then so can you. Understand?”
I want to throw it back at him that he should take his own advice. Alas, all I do is sigh as I soak in his words. “I do.”
“Good.” His stoic face is unreadable.
Maybe I shouldn’t poke the bear, but suddenly I feel ballsy today. “Uh, shouldn’t you also take a mental day? I’m confident someone in the family is already plotting Chrismukkah, and that is an energy drainer. Although, the food is a solid ten.”
He doesn’t flinch and stares at me. “No. You always have energy for Sufganiyah with the right amount of jam inside.” He remains serious. “Now, we have one more away game and then off a day before we head out again. Rest up.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Leaving him, I vaguely hear him return to his conversation with one of the assistant coaches. In the locker room, the guys seem to be in good spirits, only with a few discussing some plays.
Sitting down, I begin to untie my skates when Charlie sitting next to me bumps my arm.
He’s been on the team for a few years now. He has a no-trade clause in his contract, so he basically can call the Spinners his home, as there is more stability.
“Everything good?” he checks in.
“Yeah. Coach being Coach. Need to keep my head in the game but rest, yadda, yadda.” I pull off a skate.
He chuckles under his breath. “Makes sense. You are a little high-strung this time of year.” Probably because my parents are busy as hell with their marketing firm in Chicago and then always suddenly decide that Christmas is the most important day of the year.
“I’m just waiting for my mom to drop the bomb that it’s her usual festivity time.”
“Fair enough. Hey, doesn’t Seb’s sister still live in your building?”
His question gets my full attention. “Yeah, why?”
He rolls a shoulder back. “Nothing. Just wondering.”
“No, you weren’t. So, what is it?”
He scratches his cheek while he takes a break from removing his pads. “Heard she was single. I mean, she has a kid, but the dad isn’t around if I remember Seb mentioning once.”
I still don’t know the full story, and it’s none of my business either. “Point being?”
“Maybe she can brighten your mood.”
I rub a towel across my face. “Nah. I’m good.” Though it might already be happening.
“Okay. Well, the missus wanted me to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Thanks, but I think I will just take a down day and call my parents. They wanted me to drive out to the city, but they will have to settle with a simple call.”
He stands and looks at me, unimpressed. “Geez. That sounds miserable. Well, if you change your mind.”
I give him a nod. “I know where to go.”
Charlie walks toward the showers, and for some reason, it feels as though I stay behind to wallow.
But I get my shit together, and thirty minutes later, I’m dressed and stop in town for a coffee.
As much as I hate this time of year, it would be a lie if I said it didn’t hit different on Main Street.
The atmosphere seems to cause people to be extra friendly, and the twinkly lights are not all that bad.
I consider running into one of the boutiques.
I do most of my shopping online, but my mom is crazy about the candles in this store up on the corner. Special scented or something like that.
As if she has a sixth sense, my phone vibrates, and fishing it out of my pocket with one hand, I see her name across the screen. Hitting accept, I bring the phone to my ear and say hello.
“There’s my son who is horrible at communication and leaving his dear old but young mom wondering if he is still alive and not eaten by a pack of wolves.” She is teasing me because she can never be mad.
I smile wryly. “Sorry. I’ve been busy with the season.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You played a good game the other night, but that’s all the hockey talk you’ll get. Your dad is wondering if he can ship you more Matchbox mezcal or beer for gifts to your friends.”
“Geez. I know my uncle owns the company, but that doesn’t mean I need to stockpile in my home.
He’s doing well enough. Doesn’t need me to advertise the brand.
” He’s doing more than alright. For years, my uncle Max and his friends have had a little investment in the Matchbox brand of mezcal and beer.
They signed a pretty hefty distribution deal way back, and of course, I volunteered to do a few social media posts for them, but my services are done.
I can picture her warm smile on the other end. “Listen, I know Thanksgiving is a no-go with your schedule. Your aunts and uncles, cousins, and everyone remotely related will miss you at dinner. Maybe we can do a family call? Anyhow, we don’t get you for Thanksgiving, but maybe Christmas?”
“I don’t know. I kind of just want to take it easy. Our schedule has been a killer, with a lot of back-to-back games.”
“I’m your mom, so I don’t really have to ask, but I thought I would anyhow.
Since you won’t take the drive to Chicago, then maybe we’ll come to you.
Your sister couldn’t swing enough time off to make her trip from Amsterdam worth it.
” My older sister Luna is the apple of their eye and can wrap my dad around her finger in record time, but she is currently living abroad for a six-month job assignment.
“Would you like it if we show up? Or will you play nice and invite us?” Now I’m grinning because Layla Ives takes no prisoners, all while she smiles, satisfied.
“Maybe.”
“Well, that’s better than a no. Now what about Thanksgiving? Please do something. Surely a teammate is hosting a dinner.”
If I had a free hand, then I would rub my face in exasperation, but alas. “Yeah, one of the guys is doing something, so that’s an option. I’m just going to see what I feel like.”
“Okay. I’ll check up on you to make sure you don’t stay home all day.”
“Got the memo. Need to run. Have Fun. Talk soon,” I list then hang up. I’m sure I will get a text in five seconds that I forget to say I love you.
Taking a sip of my coffee, I continue my walk only to stop in my tracks when I nearly collide with Lainey and Enzo leaving the butcher’s.
“Whoa.” Lainey stands on her toes and hollows her stomach to prevent herself from running into my cup of coffee.
I step back. “Saved.”
“Tyler!” Enzo is his usual happy self.
“Hey, kiddo.”
“You rocked in the last game. You got sent to the box.”
My brows furrow. “Wasn’t it on way past your bedtime?”
“Yeah, but Mom let me watch you. Normally she doesn’t, but she said it was fine.”
I zip my sight to Lainey whose face I could swear is turning a shade of red. She pulls Enzo until his back is against her front. “Well, someone is talkative today.”
“You two seem busy,” I comment.
“Yeah, we were ordering our turkey.”
Enzo is all smiles. “My mom makes the best Thanksgiving dinner. My uncle can’t come, but my grandparents are.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully. A few colleagues are stopping by, too,” Lainey explains.
Enzo has another burst of energy and jumps up. “You should come to Thanksgiving.” He turns to his mom. “Right? He is invited. He’s our neighbor.”
Lainey’s mouth opens, but no words come out.
I pretend to drink a sip of coffee. I’m wrestling with the best way to get out of this. “You know, I think I’m just going to take it easy. A busy schedule and all.”
“See, Enzo? Tyler is busy.”
“But you’ve gotta have pie.” Enzo seems deeply concerned.
Now I’m the one who has a frayed sound leaving their mouth because he is giving me no escape, it seems.
“Please. I mean, my mom can’t even cut a turkey.”
“Thanks.” She is humorously offended.
I have to laugh at the kid’s candidness. Enzo’s attention travels between Lainey and me.
She notices her son’s determination and gives me a subtle smile. “You’re… welcome if you want to join.”
To my surprise, that sentence was dripping with sincerity.
For a moment, I recall what Asher and my mom said. Maybe I need to have a mental day off.
It’s just that I kind of fear that being around Lainey and Enzo are a different kind of mental obstacle, some spark of life that I didn’t know existed.
Yet I’m unable to willingly escape.
All I can say is, “Maybe I’ll stop by, Enzo.”
That’s the safest option. No commitments.