Chapter 11 Time Flies
TIME FLIES
SAINT
Smith, Ranger, Leo and I, along with a winger from our third line, Ridge, all meet with Duke after practice, crowding into his coach’s office.
“I’ll make this brief. You five have worked the hardest this week in practice.
Ridge, you’ve stepped up, and I feel confident making you part of their first line at the game tomorrow night against the Henderson Hawks.
” Relief spreads across the room. We all know we’ve made strides this week since Ridge joined with us after our other center got injured.
“That’s not to say we don’t have more work to do.
The way you play together is coming along, but I think this new line could gel more. ”
“Gel? How so?” I cross my arms and ask.
“Like we used to, Saint. Get together, develop a rapport, trust each other’s instincts. That will all play out better on the ice.”
I snicker. “Well hell, dudes, coach has just given us a reason to party. Come to my place after practice for pizza and beer.” Everyone laughs.
“Saint, you know damn well what I mean. Now, get out of here, all of you. See you tomorrow.” Duke holds the door open for us.
I’m the last to shuffle out, and he stops me from exiting with a hand to my chest. “Hey. Go easy on the partying with them. They’re young and have a lot to learn.
You know, this could be a good opportunity for you. ”
“For what?”
“Work with these guys, and mentor them. How many more years are you going to be able to play? What’s next? I’ve long thought you could coach. In our league, many of us are looking for assistant coaches like you, with experience to back them up.”
I squint at him, certain he means well, and I respect the guy, but I don’t have to work.
If I got injured tomorrow and couldn’t play, I’d be fine to live on the millions I have.
Life would get boring real quick, though, sitting around doing nothing, so maybe he has a point.
“Thanks. I’ll give it some thought. Say hi to Phoebe and your kids from me. ” It’s only a passing comment.
“You bet. We got our little ones ice skates coming up for Christmas, can you believe it? Time flies.”
That stops me in my tracks. He’s one lucky S.O.B.
to have a family like that. As much as I hate to admit it, Mom was right that I could have made a good father, like my own was.
But life hit me with a slap shot to the heart I didn’t see coming, breaking it in two.
It’s been years and I haven’t gotten over it yet.
The interaction with Duke strikes me harder than it should. I never know when these things will knock me on my ass. I simply nod and hurry back to the locker room.
All the guys are there, ready to leave, too. Might as well start mentoring, and I don’t feel like being alone now. “I was serious about the offer. My house in an hour. Pizza and beer on me.”
“Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.” Leo slaps palms with me. He’s a local, like me, L.A. born and raised, same high school and college even, although years apart.
We talk a few minutes more and I fill them in on what I know about the players on the Hawks. I send them a ping to my house. We all leave together, going our separate ways to our cars. I’ll see them soon enough.
As is habit, I put my hand in my pocket and feel for the rabbit’s foot. I don’t even know why I carry it around with me after all this time. It once represented something special, a vow I made.
My energy falls to low levels, mentally and physically, in the car.
I can’t get home soon enough, when halfway there, another call comes in.
It’s from the same person who attempted to reach me at the Denver game.
I’d rushed away from Anastasia then, acting like I answered it, but I didn’t and had let it go to voice mail. I still haven’t listened to it.
“Fuck.” This time, I’m already down, I might as well face it, and he’s not giving up. I click to answer, steeling myself. “Hello?”
“Jesus, dude. I’ve only tried to reach you about a dozen times this past month.” Brady’s voice crash lands into my current life like it was only yesterday I bid him farewell at the funeral of his sister and our baby. My insides tornado into knots.
“Yeah. Sorry about that. Busy, you know. Hockey and stuff,” I clip in staccato words. I don’t want this call to drag out any further than it needs to. He’s rarely attempted to reach out to me over the years, and when he does, he’s a blubbering drunken mess, apologizing profusely. For good reason.
He should never have driven off in his condition with my Lilah the night I married her.
I pull over quickly into a store parking lot and slam the car into park as images flash through my head.
The simple ring exchange at the courthouse to make everything official.
My hand on her tummy as we take selfies as newlyweds on the courthouse steps.
The little gifts we exchanged. Hers, a bracelet—I later made sure she was buried with it.
Mine, the rabbit’s foot, a running joke between us about which of us was luckier to fall in love with the other.
The scene of the accident hits me next—it’s a wonder Brady walked away unscathed.
It wasn’t his fault. Another driver simply lost control and careened into them.
But he carried the weight of guilt for years, and for most of that time, I blamed him, too.
If only she hadn’t gotten into the car with him that night.
“I know. I keep tabs on your games here and there.” He sounds sober today, clear as a bell.
“What’s going on?”
“My parents want to make sure you know we’re having a memorial for Lilah and the baby. You’re invited. It’s been ten years. Time flies.”
There’s that frigging phrase again, the same one Duke used talking about his kids. Time needs to slow the fuck down. My throat constricts as I scramble for a response.
“I’ll text you the invite. I didn’t want it to come to you out of the blue, and thought I should call you first.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Brady.”
“So you’ll be there?”
A breath blows hard and long out of my lungs. “I’ll have to check my hockey schedule. You know how it is.”
I’m a shit for avoiding him like I have.
We were best friends and teammates once.
He played in college with me before the accident.
To my knowledge, he hasn’t picked up a stick or put blades on since then, preferring battles with alcohol.
For me, the distraction of playing hockey was the only thing that kept me waking up every morning after Lilah was gone.
“Sure. Well. I just thought I should be the one to reach you.”
My shoulders drop. I feel like an ass. I try to make up for it. “Hey, Brady. You sound good.”
“Thanks. I got sober. Four hundred days and counting.”
That warms my heart to hear. Unexpected. “Good for you, man.”
“Yeah. And… I met someone at AA meetings. She’s become my everything. Think I’m going to propose at Christmas.”
Fuck, that hits me hard. After all of this, he finds love? Now I need off this call in the worst way. Deep down, I’m happy for him and would never deny another man his right to love. But I lost mine. This isn’t fair.
“Congratulations. Hey, I gotta go. We’ll talk soon, okay?” I end the call before he can say more. No sooner do I do that, when another call comes in, from Mom.
“Oh, hell no. Not in the mood to handle Barbara right now.” I send it to message. I already transferred funds into her account yesterday. What more does she want? My blood, too? A foul mood leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Once home, I head inside straight to my room and slam the door. Not that I expect Anastasia home this early, and the guys won’t be arriving yet. In my bottom dresser drawer, I fish out the photographs and spread them on my bed. I don’t often resort to this; it hurts too damn much.
I just need to see her again. Lilah. My sweet Lilah. I sit and shuffle through until I find my favorite, the corners all worn and tattered from holding it so often. Almost ten years?
Dad had passed the year before I met Lilah in college, so I was already dealing with his passing.
When she told me she was pregnant, I was in love with her enough, and I only wanted to do what was right.
I had my trust fund and didn’t bother telling Mom.
Perhaps if things were different between Mom and me, I would have.
We told her family. They were against the marriage from the start, begging us to wait a few years.
We’d feel different once we were older, they’d said, and we should put off marriage.
But we would not let anyone stop us, so we went to the Justice of the Peace, where I vowed to take care of her and our baby for life.
Only that night, Brady showed up. He wanted to congratulate us, unlike his parents, happy for us, finally reconciled to the fact we’d kept our relationship a secret from him for so long. I’d fallen for my best friend and teammate’s sister. Big no-no in the world of hockey.
Forgive and forget, he’d said. We had friends over to our apartment and partied, celebrating our wedding day, having a great time.
At one point, we ran out of beer. He convinced Lilah to go with him, to drive less than five miles away to the liquor store.
The accident wasn’t his fault, and that was the last I saw of her.
So excuse me if I don’t show up at his sober wedding, although I wish him well.
I find the exact photo I’m looking for. “There you are. Hello again, sweetheart,” I whisper.
But my smile falters, my heart stalling like it hit a brick wall.
Lilah stares back at me, fair skinned and dark-haired, with pretty brown eyes, smiling and happy.
Only this time, one thought strikes me. Oddly, Anastasia looks a lot like her.
Or else my lonely aching heart is playing tricks on me.