Chapter Twenty-Two
Twenty-Two
Kyle stood in front of the players’ bench waiting for the team to settle. The other coach had called his only time-out, which would last sixty seconds. He watched the boys, all sweaty heads and heavy breathing, as they yanked off helmets and pulled out mouth guards to drink from their water bottles. Their expressions were priceless, a little stunned but in a good way.
He waved for them to huddle up. “You know why that coach called this time-out, right? It’s because you guys have all the momentum now, and he’s hoping to cool you down.”
The boys nodded with wide eyes. To the shock of everyone in that arena—including them—after the opposing team had gained a solid 5-to-0 lead, the Sandstoners had just scored three times in quick succession. No wonder the other coach had called a time-out, there was a lot riding on this game. Specifically, third place in the tournament, aka going home with a trophy. After losing their first game yesterday, the Sandstoners had won their second game. Then this morning they’d won again, which put them in contention for third place against Watertown, a team that had trounced them handily during the first scrimmage of the season.
Something had clicked for the boys. They’d started to find their stride as a unit, which, Kyle knew from experience, was wholly invigorating. It was all the extra practices, learning to communicate with a quick glance or gesture, getting to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses. Playing unselfishly, going for the greater good rather than individual glory. They had become true teammates.
He thought about what to say next. These last two days had been some of the most fun and exciting for him in years, and he wanted to tell them he’d stay for the rest of the season whether they won this game or not. But he was afraid to mess with the mojo they had going, didn’t want to add extra pressure, or take too much off… He wished he could ask Casey’s take on that, but she, Wyatt, and Dad were up in the last row of the stands.
He checked the clock—thirty-eight seconds till play resumed—and felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see a text from Casey: Tell them you’ll stay no matter what.
When his eyes flew up to find her in the crowd, she nodded at him.
Without letting himself think through the possible deeper implications of her text he turned back to the boys. “All right, listen up. I want you guys to hear this. Ms. McCray and I couldn’t be prouder of this team, and whatever happens today, I’m sticking with you for the rest of the season—”
They roared so loud everyone in the rink turned their way. When the other team eyed them with uneasy expressions, Kyle realized his announcement had the unintended benefit of rattling them. The icing on the cake was glancing up to see Casey smiling wide.
“Coach,” Will said, waving at his teammates to quiet down. “There’s not much time left. What do you want us to do when we go back in?”
Kyle scanned their eager faces, thought about what he could offer them at this point, what they needed to hear to play their best for the remaining five minutes of the last period. Then he flipped his hat around, bowed toward them, and grinned. “You got this.”
They nodded and waited for more, some kind of specific strategy or instruction. When nothing came they exchanged puzzled looks.
“That’s it?” Ben asked.
“That’s all you need to know, Landy.”
The buzzer sounded, they all circled up and tapped sticks in the center, then the boys took the ice again.
Kyle didn’t watch the rest of the game as a coach, he watched as a fan. He held his breath when the opposing players tried to fake Ben out several times in goal but didn’t manage to do it. He laughed when Soren annoyed the shit out of the other team by becoming an unforgiving wall between them and the net for the rest of the period. When Will made a beautiful drop pass back to Rory, who then scored, Kyle threw his arms high. And he almost wept when Logan won a race to the puck in the corner and, instead of reacting to the guy who kept checking him, he stayed focused and attacked, sent a perfect shot sailing into the net. Just when Kyle thought his heart couldn’t beat any faster, with seconds left in the game Will executed a breakaway, skated up close, and lit the lamp with the winning goal.
The whole arena exploded. Yelling and stomping in the stands, the boys colliding into each other while they cheered. It might have been third place in a rinky-dink tournament in the middle of nowhere, upstate New York, but anyone in hearing distance would have thought those kids had just won the Stanley Cup.
The awards ceremony wasn’t scheduled until four o’clock, so Kyle spent the next two hours hanging around the rink with the boys, who had swarmed him after their win. He rehashed their games with them, talked to their excited families, who all thanked him for staying on for the rest of the season. He saw Casey only once, when she stopped by to congratulate the boys and give Kyle a smile—he’d seen her smile more the last two days than he had in a very long time—and a “Good job, Coach” before she headed off for some tournament duty. They’d barely spoken since the scene in the storage room yesterday morning.
He’d stopped in there to apologize to her for his wrap-my-stick blunder, and it hadn’t been his intention to go unnoticed. He stayed quiet at first because he got a kick out of seeing Will and Ben crouched down before her, watching her work and laughing at something she said. But then he heard their questions— you and Coach used to be married… then you split up? And he heard her answers— They don’t come any better than him… We were good together for a long time. That’s when the tragedy of it all hit him. She was right, they’d been so good together for so long. Then they lost Charlie. The question he’d wanted to ask her was why they lost each other, but not in a storage room minutes before the game started. So once again he let her walk away.
When it was time for awards Kyle led the boys to the pavilion, where the top three teams grouped up in the center. Parents, coaches, and the other teams formed a wide circle around them. Coach Geiger made his way to the middle, shook hands with Kyle and the other two coaches, and started the speech he had to give before presenting the awards. Basically one long thank-you to the volunteers, parents, all the sponsors…
Kyle spotted Casey, Dad, and Wyatt among the onlookers, and he smiled when Wyatt shot him a double thumbs-up. The day after telling Casey about Wyatt’s Boston opportunity, Kyle had walked over to Wyatt’s shop and confessed— I told Casey you’re not going to Boston because of her. When Wyatt said yeah, he already knew that, Kyle asked him if they needed to talk about it. Wyatt had shaken his head no, then asked if they needed to talk about what Casey did after Kyle left. Kyle didn’t want to put Wyatt through the trauma of reliving that experience, so he said no. But I do need to say two things to you , he’d told Wyatt. I’m sorry you had to go through that. And thank you for saving her life. Wyatt had nodded in response and then they’d gone to work cutting boards for his latest assignment, a fancy bar cabinet made of mango wood.
Once Coach was done thanking everyone and their brother, he presented the first-, second-, and third-place winners with an engraved trophy they’d be able to display at their various schools. No one was surprised when the third-place Sandstoners received the loudest and longest round of applause. They were the home team, after all, and everyone loved a good underdog story.
The ceremony was about over when Will stepped forward and whispered something in Coach Geiger’s ear. After a moment Coach nodded at Will and faced the crowd. “If you could all hang on a minute, the Sandstoners would like to say something.”
“Thanks, Coach Geiger,” Will said, taking a couple of steps forward. His blond hair was sticking up in all directions, his face ruddy from the cold and the playing and the excitement. He’d taken his pads off and changed into sneakers, but he still wore his uniform. All the boys did. “This’ll just take a minute,” he said, raising his young voice to be heard. “Ms. McCray, can you join us?”
As everyone’s head turned her way, Casey hesitated, clearly taken by surprise. But she said, “Sure,” and walked forward. As she joined Kyle she lifted her brows at him in question.
He shrugged in response. Though he was beginning to suspect what the kids were up to.
Once she was in place Will addressed the crowd. “We wanted to thank Coach and Ms. McCray for what they’ve done for us this season. Coach just came on board this fall, but he’s been spending, like, all his time with us. And Ms. McCray…” He paused. “Well, I don’t really know how to explain everything she’s done for us.”
A lot of people in the pavilion chuckled at that—Coach, Dad, Wyatt, the team parents. The people who knew why it was hard to put that into words.
Casey’s face had gone pink, but she was smiling. Just when Kyle thought these boys couldn’t further impress him, they proved him wrong.
Will turned to his teammates, who all nodded at him. Then he held up the trophy Coach Geiger had just handed him. “We’d like to dedicate this award to Charlie McCray, their son.”
Kyle froze and heard Casey draw in a sharp breath beside him as the pavilion went dead silent. He had guessed a thank-you was coming. But not this.
“Is that okay, Coach?” Will asked, turning to Kyle, his forehead creased in concern.
Kyle’s mind was drawing a blank. He was suddenly lightheaded and couldn’t find his voice with the ringing in his ears. Until Casey’s hand slid up around his arm and squeezed. “Of course, Will,” he said, nodding. “Thank you. Thank you all.” He even managed to give them a quiet smile.
Will’s shoulders settled. “I didn’t live here then, so I didn’t know Charlie,” he told the audience. “But some guys on the team did, and Logan and Charlie were best friends.”
Logan came forward and accepted the trophy from Will. Carrying it in both hands, he brought it to Kyle and held it out. “For Charlie,” he said.
Kyle reached out to take the trophy with one hand and shook Logan’s hand with the other. “Thank you, Logan,” he said, looking into the eyes of the boy who had been his son’s closest buddy at nine years old. Who, hopefully, would always remember Charlie.
Logan turned to Casey then, and she smiled at him. When she spoke, Kyle knew everyone in that room could hear the emotion in her voice. “That means more than you know, Logan.”
Logan stood there for a moment, looking at her with eyes full of tenderness. Then he leaned forward, raised his arms, and hugged her.
Casey’s brows ticked up in surprise, but she hugged him back.
Kyle didn’t know how much longer he could keep it together. As generous as this gesture was he breathed an internal sigh of relief at the thought that it was about over. Until Ben Landy came toward him with an outstretched hand, and the rest of the team lined up behind him.
In the hushed pavilion, one by one the boys came forward. Kyle shook each of their hands with a firm grip and thanked them before they turned to hug Casey.
And he thought about Charlie. How Charlie would have played on this team, been friends with these boys. He would have moved on to high school with them next year and kept playing because he loved hockey so much. He would have grown up with these kids and fumbled through a lot of firsts with them—first girlfriend, first job, first car, first beer—and whether he stayed in Potsdam or moved away someday, he would have remembered them, and this town would have always been home to him…
Will was last in line, and when he stepped up with that wide wholesome smile Kyle felt himself sway slightly before he gripped Will’s hand. Looking into his face was like getting a glimpse of Charlie as the teenager he never got to be.
It was over then. In a husky voice that gave away his own emotion Coach Geiger thanked the boys and told everyone to enjoy the holidays.
The crowd was slow to move and start talking again, not quite ready to end this special moment they’d all been part of. Kyle caught sight of Dad and Wyatt swiping gruff hands down their faces. A quick scan of the crowd found few dry eyes, and Kyle knew Casey was feeling all those eyes on her, just like he was. When he turned to ask how she was doing, what he saw answered his question. It would have been hard to notice at any distance, but she was shaking like a leaf.
He raised his arm and put it around her shoulders, and she leaned hard against him, like she would have just kept going till she hit the ground if he hadn’t been there.
He kept his voice low when he spoke to her. “Okay?”
She took a deep breath and answered on the exhale. “Okay.”