Chapter 13
Three Weeks Later
@slapshotnetters: power play looked decent from Frankie Stevens. Consider us impressed!
@hockeyhaterz: please get the chick off my screen. I don’t want to see some bitch behind the bench!!! It’s bad enough that they have women commentators now…
“Are they always this bad?” Jules asked as she scrolled through Instagram and turned to stare at Frankie, her blue eyes wide and full of disgust. “This is horrible.”
Frankie took a sip from a hot vanilla latte and nodded. “Comes with the job, unfortunately. And to be honest, I’ve seen worse.”
She and Jules were perched on stools in front of a bar top in a small cafe near the edge of the harbour front as rain pitter pattered against the window, leaving a chill in the air that made everything feel damp.
She tugged the sleeves of a light blue hoodie down over her wrists and wrapped her hands around her coffee mug for extra warmth.
Training camp had come to an end and with pre-season all but wrapped up, the first game of Halifax Harbour’s inaugural season was right around the corner.
Their pre-season games, though they were all away trips, had gone about as well as expected. They’d lost two and won one but no one expected anything spectacular out of a brand new team composed of a bunch of guys who’ve barely played together.
Chemistry in sports didn’t just happen, it was something you grew, something you strived for, and they were still striving.
Chemistry between two people though? That could be instantaneous and Frankie felt it every time she looked at Jules, every time they spoke, every time they were around each other like they were now. It was always there, simmering just beneath the surface of whatever their relationship was.
”I’m so sorry that you have to deal with this.”
While the sympathy was appreciated, especially coming from Jules, the vitriol and hate that came from supposed hockey fans who hid behind anonymous usernames and faceless profile photos was simply part of the job and she was not alone in having those comments hurled in her direction.
No, it was every woman who worked professionally in sports. Frankie’s was just another name on a list of women who worked tirelessly to carve out a space for themselves within the sports world, constantly forced to navigate a series of land mines and challenges no male would ever have to.
When it came to actually being behind the bench, Frankie wasn’t even the first woman to do it.
That esteemed honour belonged to Jessica Campbell, someone who had become somewhat of a hockey legend herself because of her position.
She would’ve had an even tougher journey to get to where she was now and when she came into the league, she was forced to carry the entire weight of an immense gender bias on her shoulders.
Frankie could almost say she had it easy in comparison being the second and not the first to do it, though that wasn't true because every day still felt like climbing a mountain and working in hockey wasn’t a nine to five job – it was 24/7.
But Campbell had paved the way and made it possible, had proven to sports fans that yes, women can and should be doing this job.
“I’ve got thick skin,” Frankie said, offering Jules an appreciative smile. “I can handle a few dumb jocks being assholes online.”
“Maybe so,” Jules said, her gaze softening. She slipped her hand onto Frankie's arm and gave it a light reassuring squeeze. “But you shouldn’t have to. It’s…it’s fucking stupid. That’s what it is. Dumb men being douchebags, deciding a sport and a job belongs to them.”
“Ooo, I like it when you’re feisty,” Frankie teased.
They’d started to spend more time together like this.
The stakes were low and there was no pressure, they were simply two people developing a friendship and grabbing coffee or a bite to eat now and then.
And it was nice to have someone to confide in when she needed it.
As much as Frankie confided in Sydney, she was still a world away but Jules was here, sitting right across from her now looking adorable with a faded Toronto Blue Jays baseball hat on her head.
Jules was steady and reliable, she was fun and easy going, and it also didn’t hurt that she was heart stoppingly gorgeous in moments when the light caught her blue eyes just right, when the breeze made her short blonde hair flutter around her face in a way that sometimes had Frankie subconsciously reaching out to tuck it behind her ear.
And when she laughed? The sound of it was like a song Frankie had been waiting forever to hear.
“How would your brother feel if he knew you just referred to him as a dumb douchebag?”
Jules bumped her shoulder against Frankie’s and rolled her eyes. “He would smile at me and say yes, Jules. Sometimes that’s exactly what I am. Thank you for teaching me the error of my ways.”
“Pfft, yeah right. The Cameron Clarke I know would absolutely NOT say that, but it’s so cute that you think so.”
”No, you’re right,” Jules laughed. “But he knows it’s what I’d want him to say and that I’m always right.”
Their eyes met and sitting this close, Frankie could see the way the light blue of Jules' eyes seemed to flow into the darker outer ring, like rays of sun hitting thick ice and doing its best to shine through to the other side. There was a depth to them that Frankie knew she could get lost in if she let herself and the honest truth is that it wouldn’t take much to let it happen.
But Jules had been a great friend to her and she understood the difficult position she was in, her leadership role that, like it or not, affected Jules even though she wasn’t the Clarke twin that Frankie coached every day.
It couldn’t be as simple as her heart wanted it to be and it didn’t help that it had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time for her to reach this point.
She had no plans to act emotionally and risk the friendship she had come to cherish so she cleared her throat and looked away from Jules and fixed her gaze out the window at the rain. It had been pouring for three days straight now and a dense fog had settled over the harbour.
“Oh, I meant to tell you. I’m going to make the trip to watch the first game of the season,” Jules said. “Cam would never forgive me if I missed it.”
They hadn’t spoken about the start of the season and how much busier things were going to get but it was right around the corner and Frankie would be lying if she said she wasn’t scared shitless.
It was too easy for her to fake her confidence and it cut deep, knowing that when she looked out at the crowd in the arena in Boston, as fans clapped for the home team and the start of another hockey season, there wouldn’t be anyone there to celebrate her accomplishment.
She wouldn’t have a familiar face in the crowd, someone in the seats to be a grounding presence among a sea of strangers who will have already judged her before the pucks even dropped for warmups.
Or at least that’s what she thought.
“And I can’t miss seeing you on the bench in your first official NHL game either, can I?”
Turning back to look at Jules again, Frankie’s breath caught and her throat bobbed. “I’d say your brother is a lot more important than I am given he’s kind of the face of the team.”
When Jules smiled, her eyes crinkled at the edges just a little bit and she licked her lips then gave her head a slight shake. “But who is he without his coach? That makes you special.”
It was more like who was Frankie without the names skating in front of her on the ice because without them, without this team, she’d still be on the other side of the country coaching teenagers who were already forgetting about her while the hockey world prepared to bow at their feet.
“Well…I’m glad you’re coming,” she said, mirroring the warm easy grin on Jules' face. “It’ll be nice to see you in the stands.”
It meant more to Frankie than she could put into words, that this woman who had only known her for a short time had so much faith in her, seemed to care so much, made Frankie feel a little less alone in the craziness that filled her life now.
“Maybe you can sign a puck for me?” Jules proposed, fluttering her eyelashes in the most adorable way. It had Frankie questioning how bad it would be if she acted on every dangerous impulse she had. “You can write: to Jules, my biggest fan.”