Chapter 20 #2
She'd opted to wear her hair down, letting her short wavy blonde locks frame her face in a way she always liked and she stood out among the throngs of fans dressed in Harbour merch. While her outfit choice wasn’t exactly fit for the wintery mix of cold weather outside, she looked good and it had nothing to do with Frankie. Nothing whatsoever.
Her seat was in a section just to the left of the home team’s bench a few rows up, an area where the majority of the player’s friends and families sat and as she slid into her seat, her eyes landed on a young boy holding a sign against the glass that said, “CLARKE! I WEAR #44 TOO! TRADE CANDY FOR A PUCK? PLEASE!!”
It made her smile and she knew her brother was a sucker for signs like that, which meant the boy would likely go into the new year with something to brag about at school.
Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she slipped it free then blushed as she read the unexpected message.
Frankie – 1:14PM
You look nice today, I like your jacket.
She re-read the message three times then lifted her gaze and glanced around in search of the sender. She spotted a familiar head of red hair down behind the Harbour’s bench and when her eyes met Frankie’s, she couldn’t keep a shy smile from sliding onto her face.
Frankie was never behind the bench for warmups but she was in conversation with the equipment manager about something and threw Jules a wink before returning her focus to her work.
Since their almost kiss six days earlier, long and spread out text conversations weren't uncommon now that they had each other's numbers and for Jules, it had become one of the best parts of her day.
Sometimes the conversations were about work, sometimes they were about the weather, and sometimes they were filled with basic getting to know you questions.
Jules learned that Frankie’s favourite colour was, unsurprisingly, red and Frankie learned that Jules preferred watching documentaries to scripted film and tv shows.
Jules learned that Frankie liked pineapple on pizza and Frankie learned that Jules hated it but would be willing to eat it if they ever shared a pizza.
The conversations were filled with jokes and teasing, with the easy rapport a growing friendship had but they never ventured anywhere close to what happened that day on the pond, and had barely even flirted over text.
Which is why Frankie taking the time to message her today, right before a game no less, with a compliment she didn’t need to give but still felt the need to anyway, came as a surprise to Jules.
She bit her lip and watched Frankie down at the bench.
Her presence was commanding in a dark green suit that looked incredible on her and as she turned to head back down the tunnel, she stopped to catch a jersey a young girl tossed over the glass behind the bench.
Frankie smiled at the girl and pulled a sharpie from her pocket to sign her name on the back of the jersey then tossed it back over the glass for her.
It was something happening more often and always made Jules proud, not only as a woman who was watching history be made week in and week out, but as someone close to Frankie, someone who knew how seriously she took her job and how dedicated she was to being a good role model.
Before anyone else could grab her attention, Frankie disappeared down the tunnel and out of sight. Jules re-read Frankie’s message again then typed back her own reply despite knowing she wouldn’t get a response for hours.
Jules – 1:22PM
And you told me your favourite colour was red but I think it should be green because your suit today might be your best game day outfit yet.
It was bold and far flirtier than she’d been so far but she was reaching a boiling point where she almost didn’t care anymore.
And she was only saying something she knew everyone else would also be thinking because it was just a fact.
Frankie looked good. She always looked good and life is too short to not give someone a compliment, right?
Life is too short to not tell the pretty girl with the flaming red hair that you think her green suit is sexy, that it hugs her hips perfectly and shows just enough of her clavicle to be distracting.
Okay…maybe Jules wouldn’t say any of that but she was definitely thinking it.
When the game started, it was obvious that the away team had a plan coming into the rink; to hit hard, hit fast, and hit often. Their line up had a handful of especially physical players who found themselves in the penalty box on three separate occasions during the first period alone.
The score was 1-0 for the Harbour at the start of the second period thanks to a goal from Cam’s closest friend on the team, Mason, and a few minutes into the frame, Cam gained possession of the puck behind the Harbour net.
As he spun on his skates and readied himself to pass the puck to one of the defenders, one of the so-called enforcers on the opposing team barreled into him with a raised elbow, slamming into his face at a speed that sent him crumbling to the ice before anyone could even react.
The air was ripped from Jules' lungs and she stood, her gaze flicking back and forth between the scene on the ice and the large video board showing what the camera’s captured.
With his teammates surrounding him on the ice, it was hard to get a good look at the scene as it unfolded but a fight broke out between the player who had slammed into Cam on purpose and another Harbour player.
Their gloves flew off and fists started flying everywhere as the men flailed around on their skates, hurling insults at one another that no one could hear over the thump of the in arena sound system playing some top ten pop song.
The angle on the video board changed to a close up showing Cam being lifted off the ice with a towel held under his nose, his jersey and the ground around where he’d fallen streaked with blood.
“Fucking hell…” Jules muttered to herself, her hands clasped over her mouth to conceal her shock as best she could. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her brother get hurt playing hockey and it wouldn’t be the last but it never, ever got easier.
As soon as Cam slipped out of sight into the tunnel with the medical staff, she looked down at the Harbour bench and found an expressive pair of green eyes staring back at her.
“It’s okay,” Frankie mouthed, nodding, trying to reassure Jules in the little way she could.
But it didn’t help to settle her nerves as she was forced to sit through the rest of the game knowing she couldn’t see Cam until well after the final buzzer.
When the game did finally end in a 3-1 loss, Jules navigated the thick crowd of fans all heading off to ring in the new year and she weaved her way through families and clumps of minor hockey teams before arriving at a hallway marked ‘no access beyond this point’ that she knew led down to the home team’s locker room.
She didn’t have a pass to allow her past the security guard even though she was Cameron Clarke’s sister and she anxiously shifted her weight back and forth from one foot to another, checking her phone every two minutes to see if someone, anyone, from the team had sent her a message.
A hand on her shoulder startled her and she turned to find Frankie standing beside her.
“He’s okay,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “He’s pretty banged up and it’s looking like his nose is broken and maybe his jaw but he’s in good spirits.”
Jules deflated, the tension in her shoulders disappearing as she sighed in relief. “Thank God,” she said, before her eyes filled with tears. Frankie’s eyes softened and she slid her hand down Jules' arm to squeeze her hand before pulling her into a hug.
The comfort of the embrace, being in Frankie’s arms, the scent of her woodsy perfume, it made Jules head spin a little and she didn’t stop herself when she hugged Frankie back a little tighter.
“Jules,” Frankie whispered against the crown of her head. “It’ll be alright. He’s laughing back there, joking with the team and cursing the other guys like he always does after the loss. He’s angrier about not getting the win than he is about taking the heavy hit, trust me.”
“Really?” Jules asked, pulling back to look up at Frankie. She wiped her cheek, feeling foolish for her outburst of emotion and Frankie rubbed her arm.
“Really. Want to come back and see him? Everyone’s changed and the chosen ones are off to do post game media before Neil does his own.”
“Okay.” Jules nodded and sniffled, then let Frankie lead her past the security guard and down the hallway towards a part of the arena most people never got the chance to see.
They’d be disappointed by it all to be honest because aside from the locker room and the hallway leading out onto the ice that were decked out in the team colours and logo, the walls were a boring slate grey, the halls lined with various equipment cases and gear boxes, trash cans and empty pallets.
Frankie slid her hand to Jules' lower back as they travelled through the labyrinth of hallways, offering a greeting to other members of the staff as they passed by and when they reached the threshold of the home team locker room, she dropped her hand.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” She gave Jules a reassuring nod and offered a warm, comforting smile that would put anyone at ease. “I’ve got to go deal with the aftermath of the loss today but…have fun at your party tonight.”
Before Jules got to thank her, to tell her that there was only so much the team could do against such a stronger opponent, to say I wish we were going to the same party, Frankie was walking back in the direction they’d come from, off to do whatever an assistant coach was tasked with after a less than ideal performance.
The team had multiple power play opportunities in the game and couldn’t convert. People would ask questions of Frankie, would judge her decisions, scrutinize the players she chose to put on the ice and ask whether someone with more experience might be better suited for her position.
It wasn’t fair but it was part of the job and Jules was grateful that Frankie had taken any time at all away from the stresses of her job to soothe some of her worry. She didn’t need to, didn’t owe Jules anything, but she’d done it anyway.
The locker room was still filled with people milling about, from players still in various states of undress, to equipment staff packing things away and the media snapping photos and video for social media.
Cam was sitting at his stall, ice on his nose, with his eyes fixed on his cell phone in his hand.
“Rough day at the office, huh?” Jules crossed the room and plopped down beside him at a vacant stall
He looked up at her and grinned. “I’ve had worse.
” He lowered the bag of ice and Jules got her first good look at the damage.
“Luckily it’s just a broken nose. They thought my jaw was cooked but I don’t think it’s that bad.
Might have to wear a cage for a game or two though which is so fucking lame but what can ya do, right? ”
Jules studied his face, scowling at the bruising around his nose and below his eyes that was already forming. It definitely didn’t look pretty and was only going to get worse but her brother was a tough nut to crack and would do his best to carry on as if he hadn’t even been hit.
“I think the professional female hockey players disagree with you about the cage,” she said, putting a finger under his chin to turn his head to the side.
“You know who Sarah Nurse is? She was asked once on a podcast why women still wear masks and not visors like you all do and what did she say? She said they just got health insurance as pro hockey players and that she’s a pretty girl who likes her teeth. ”
“Half my teeth are fake…”
“Exactly.”
He clued into something right then and glanced around the room. “How’d you get back here? I never gave you a pass.”
“Why? You worried your sister is going to embarrass you in front of all your cool friends?”
Cam rolled his eyes but laughed and gave his head a shake. “I think we’re well past that.”
“Frank…” Jules trailed off, thinking better of getting too personal.
She wasn’t ready to share the extent of what her relationship was with Frankie, not when she felt the way she did. Not when looking at Frankie made her feel more than a friend should feel, when looking at her made her feel like someone actually saw something in her that no one else did.
“Coach Stevens, she found me after the game and brought me back. She thought I might want to check in on you.”
Cam stood and tossed the bag of ice into a trashcan. He didn’t seem fazed by Frankie being the one to help Jules and started to re-dress, moving about the locker room like he could navigate the space with his eyes closed.
“Some of the guys have been harping on her lately,” he said. “Our power play has been struggling a bit these last few games and I’ve had to tell more than one of them to keep their mouths shut. They don’t have enough respect and it’s starting to piss me off.”
“They have to understand how much pressure she’s under,” Jules said, eyes narrowing in frustration on Frankie’s behalf.
It was hard enough knowing the outside media and so called fans had such little faith in her but it almost hurt worse to know that some of her own players felt the same way.
“She has it twice as hard as every other coach on your team.”
“They don’t care.” He shook his head and sighed, tugging on a hoodie and a toque. “But there’s only so much I can do and we…dear sister…have a party to go get ready for.”
Jules stood but motioned to his face with a frown. “You still can't seriously be thinking of going to that party tonight. Can…look at your face. You need rest and you need more ice.”
”Jules, I love you, but…” He put his hands on her shoulders and smiled. “After the day I’ve had, the only thing that would keep me from a party and a pretty girl is if I got knocked out cold. Do I look knocked out cold to you?”
“No…” She grumbled, more than relieved that he was only walking away with a broken nose and nothing worse.
His last bad hockey injury – a severe knee strain one step away from an ACL tear that kept him off the ice for months – was hard for them to navigate.
This was a walk in the park compared to that even if it was already starting to look like he got in a bar fight. “Thank God.”
“Party it is then.” Cam winked and cradled her face in his hands before ducking down to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Lighten up, kid.”
Easier said than done.