Chapter 10
~Daley~
With each name called, River’s hopes deflate a little more.
He’s putting on a brave face, cheering for each pick and extra loud for the players he knows personally, but I see the little signs of anxiety he’s doing his best to hide.
Each time a general manager takes the stage, he presses his hands down on his thighs.
When a name other than his is called, his nostrils flare before he breaks into applause.
The tells are subtle but still noticeable for someone who’s known him all his life.
“We’re getting into the top teams now,” I remind him when we reach the final eight.
These are the teams that made the second round of the playoffs last year.
Sure, being the first overall pick is flattering, but it means playing for the poorest-performing team from the previous year.
Getting chosen by a contending team will have its benefits, even if it means he might need to play in the juniors a little longer before earning a place.
River simply nods, too nervous to even respond. Those palms press against his thighs again as the San Jose GM walks up to the mic and chooses another player.
“Sioux Falls is next,” Brayden announces, holding onto his program where he’s been making notes of all the picks. “That’s our top choice!”
The boys nudge River and he smiles half-heartedly.
Sioux Falls is only three and a half hours from our small North Dakota town, which makes it the closest NHL team to us.
No matter which team drafts him, half the town already plans to go watch him when he plays at the Wolves arena.
If he plays for them, we’d have many more opportunities to see him play.
I know it’s not River’s top choice; he’d rather play in a big city or for one of the teams with a long hockey history, but I have to admit that, selfishly, I wouldn’t mind having him within driving distance.
The Wolves promo video starts playing, and a deep, warm voice fills the air around us, a voice that sounds surprisingly familiar.
Memories of Deacon flicker across my mind again and my skin puckers into goosebumps, but I must be exaggerating the similarity.
Any sexy voice is going to remind me of the man when our night together is still so fresh in my mind.
Shifting in my seat, I watch the Wolves general manager walk to the podium, and watch River’s hands press into his thighs once more.
“Sioux Falls takes River Adams.”
My head whips to my son in delight, Brayden and Jonny whoop their approval, smacking him almost too hard on the shoulder in their excitement, while River blinks over at me slowly.
“Did he just say my name?”
“He did,” I confirm. A gleeful squeal I probably haven’t made in twenty years slips through my clenched teeth as I grin at him. “Get up there!”
Blinking a couple more times, he finally seems to absorb that it’s really happening, and as I stand up to let him pass me, he gives me a tight hug.
The spotlight finds him as he makes his way down the steps and up to the stage.
By the time he mounts the stairs, he’s beaming.
The boys next to me are standing too, still hooting and howling their approval while I’m doing my best not to cry so I don’t miss a second of it.
This is really happening.
River takes the Sioux Falls Wolves jersey and slips it over his head. The grey, red and white colours look good on him, and as he poses with the management team, a few girls cheer out their approval even louder than the rest.
I’m going to have to get used to women chanting his name, I suppose, though I’m not sure it’s a reality I feel ready to deal with.
River heads backstage with the team while the other boys and I watch the last six teams make their picks. The show wraps up and a general buzz fills the arena as the crowd begins to disperse. Just as I’m about to ask what we do now, ushers appear at the end of our row.
“Family members for the selected draft picks are invited to the family area backstage,” one of them announces, and we dutifully follow him to one of the hallways where we wait in line while security checks everyone’s names against their authorized guest list.
Past the security cordon, we’re ushered into a large reception room with TVs, tables, and a few air hockey tables.
A buffet table full of food lines one wall next to a bar offering drinks.
Brayden and Jonny beeline for the refreshments while I smile awkwardly at some of the other women my age.
One of them, a brunette with glasses and a short, severe haircut, looks friendlier than the rest, so I approach her first.
“Hi, I’m Daley. My son got picked up by Sioux Falls.”
“Nancy. Mine’s going to New York.”
“Oh, wow.” I blow out a breath that’s part impressed and part relieved that River won’t be living so far away. “That’s exciting. Where do you live?”
“A little town in Ontario, so it could be worse. And yeah, he’s thrilled, but I’m imagining him blowing his whole first-year salary on a tiny apartment!”
We share a laugh, though it feels a little surreal.
The amount of money these boys are going to be receiving exceeds anything I could have dreamt of at their age.
The salary cap for a rookie is set just under a million dollars a year.
A million dollars. For one year. River probably won’t get quite that much, but it won’t be far off either.
All of this is going to take some time to sink in.
“Does your son play defence?” Nancy asks, and I give her a surprised nod.
“Do you know him?”
“No, but Sioux Falls is short on defence after trading Miller away. There’s a good chance your son will get to play next year. It’s a good team for him to go to in that position.”
I have no idea who Miller is, but her knowledge of the team dynamics impresses me. “I have to admit I’m not up-to-speed about who’s who on the team yet.”
“But you must have heard about Brady Miller?” she asks, and when I shake my head, her eyebrows shoot up. “The whole thing with him and Deke Belin’s wife?”
I can only offer an apologetic shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Well, it’s not hard to find when you have a minute, and it’s worth knowing the situation. Your son should know too so he doesn’t put his foot in his mouth. Being a good team player is more than just performing on the ice.”
Intentional or not, her comments feel like a judgement on me as a mother for not knowing all the latest NHL gossip, so I promise to look it up before excusing myself. Maybe I’ll stick to having something to eat with Brayden and Jonny rather than attempting more small talk.
Before I can reach them, I’m intercepted by a blond couple, the man dressed in a sweater vest and the woman wearing a pink dress along with a string of pearls. They look like they stepped straight out of a 1980s sitcom.
“You must be River’s mother! I’m Tammy and this is Brian. Our son Stephen is going to Florida.”
“Yes, that’s right. Nice to meet you.” I submit to their enthusiastic handshakes with a mix of bemusement and bewilderment. “Do you know River?”
They exchange knowing smiles before Brian answers. “No, but we made a point of learning about all the boys ahead of time and we’re making sure we get to know all the families too.”
He’s not kidding; he holds out a list showing all the picks from tonight with their parents’ names listed next to most of them, with check marks to show the ones they’ve already connected with.
“We’re going to start a group chat so we can all keep in touch,” Tammy explains, almost breathless in her excitement. “No one else really understands what this is like other than people in the same situation, right?”
“I suppose, yeah. That sounds nice.”
They seem to mean well, so I provide my name and email address, which they dutifully add to their chart.
“And River’s dad?” Tammy asks. “What’s his address?”
After 18 years, that question shouldn’t have the ability to affect me anymore, but in this setting, seeing all the other proud fathers around, it manages to sneak under my protective armour.
River should have his father’s support, but the man has never once been in touch to check in on him.
I suspect his email address hasn’t changed since I knew him, and for just a second, I’m tempted to provide it just to imagine the confusion Anthony would feel at suddenly receiving a deluge of messages from parents of other NHL draft picks.
The temptation quickly fades, though. He hasn’t been there for any part of River’s life, so he doesn’t deserve to share in any of his success.
“River’s father isn’t part of his life. It’s just me.”
“Oh.” Her wide blue eyes register genuine shock, but she quickly hides it beneath a too-cheery smile. “Well, we’ll be chatting with you soon. Congratulations.”
“You too.” I accept the end of the conversation gratefully and move off to grab a seat at the table Brayden and Jonny have claimed, their plates piled high.
An hour passes as the young men drafted go through their gauntlet of media interviews, picture-taking, and whatever else they’re getting up to backstage.
A few other parents come up to me to make conversation, and I play referee between Brayden and Jonny for a fierce air hockey match.
Gradually, the players begin to filter in, and when my eyes land on a smiling River walking through the door, my heart leaps.
Gone is the anxiety of earlier, replaced by confidence and happiness that practically shines out of him.
From his taller vantage point, he spots us immediately and heads straight over. His strong arms circle my waist, and he picks me up off the ground in a bear hug that has us both laughing.
“Tell me everything,” I demand when he puts me down and finishes hugging his friends. “What did they have you do?”
“I’ll tell you,” he promises. “But first, we’ve all been invited up to the team suite to meet a few more people. Deke Belin’s here, I just met him.”
“No way, that’s awesome!” Brayden cries, and the three boys exchange excited fist bumps.
“Who’s that?” I ask, vaguely recognizing that it’s one of the names Nancy mentioned earlier.
River rolls his eyes affectionately. “The team captain. One of the league’s top scorers last year. You’re going to have to start paying attention.”
“Hey, I know everyone in your junior team!” I protest, feeling a little stung at his teasing even if he doesn’t mean anything by it. Nancy’s earlier words are still clinging to me. “One league at a time is all I can handle.”
“I know.” He gives me another hug, pulling me into his side. “You’ve got a couple of months before training camp starts. Don’t worry about it.”
Exhaling deeply, I give his waist a squeeze in return, pushing down any feelings of inadequacy that threaten to take away from this special moment in my son’s life. Tonight is all about him, not me. “Well, let’s go meet this guy, and then at least I’ll know one of them.”
River grins down at me, his excitement nearly bursting through his skin. “He seems cool, but down-to-earth. I think you’re going to like him.”
I hope that’s true. My son could use a role model as he takes this huge step into adulthood and deals with money, fame and temptation on a scale like he’s never known before. It would be wonderful if Deke Belin is someone he can look up to.