Chapter 9 #2
She’s not wrong, but I have to stifle a laugh. When did my little girl start sounding like a grizzled sports reporter?
He hasn’t looked up at us again, but I can tell from his body language as his teammates rally around him that he’s already taking full responsibility for this loss.
“He looks like he needs a hug,” April says, finally starting to sound like her nine-year-old self again.
“He probably does,” is all I can say.
Margo pops up again near the press exit as the crowd starts to thin out. “Let’s go down to the family lounge and wait. The guys will be coming out of the locker room soon.”
I hesitate a moment. “Do you think Grant will want us there? He’s probably not going to be in the mood for chit-chat.”
She gives me a look like I’ve just said the most asinine sentence in the history of the English language. “Since when is Grant Parker ever in the mood for chit-chat? Of course he’ll want you and April down there. Come on!”
I’ve only been in the family and friends lounge a handful of times before, and only after a win, so the first thing I notice is the subdued energy in the room after such a close loss.
Wives and girlfriends are huddled in small groups, talking in slightly hushed voices while we all wait for the players to come out.
Theo’s wife Becca gives me a friendly nod before turning her attention back to her quiet conversation with Callie and Hannah.
The young kids are the only ones who seem unaffected by the loss, running around and playing without a care in the world.
Margo checks her phone and looks over at me. “The guys should start coming out soon. They’re probably getting the post-game talk from the coach right about now.”
“I don’t think I’d want to be in the room for that particular talk.” I grimace at the palpable tension in the room. “Is it always like this after we lose a game?”
“Pretty much. Wins are celebrations. Losses are obviously less fun. But it’s important for us to show up either way—and maybe more important to show up for the losses. The guys need to know we support them through the tough times too.”
As if on cue, the players start to appear in the lounge, trickling in from the locker room in a slow procession that instantly makes my heart hurt for them.
Yes, they’re grown men. And yes, there are worse things in the world than losing a hockey game. But I can see and feel how disappointed they are with themselves and their performance tonight.
I know from the short time we’ve spent with Grant that this is much more than just a game to these guys. It’s the sport they’ve dedicated their lives to perfecting, and it’s a big responsibility to get out in front of tens of thousands of people every week and keep them entertained.
Grant is one of the last ones to come through the door, showered and dressed in his perfectly tailored post-game suit. It’s impossible not to notice the crisp lines and the way the material clings to his shoulders, arms, and thighs.
I have to stop myself from checking him out, though, because that’s definitely not what he needs from me right now.
A few people stop him to pat him on the back or tell him what a good game it was as he makes his way over to us, but he barely acknowledges them aside from a grunt of thanks or the barest head nod.
I offer a tentative smile once he’s within talking distance. “Hey. You played well out there.”
“We still lost.”
There’s no inflection in his tone. No emotion behind his voice. Just a blunt statement of fact that I can’t deny.
I can still show him my support, though, just like Margo said to do.
“You all played your asses off and you were up against a really good team. I know everyone around us enjoyed every minute of the game, and a good chunk of that enjoyment came from watching you make some incredible saves.”
“Yeah,” April nods next to me. “The score would’ve been a lot different if you hadn’t been there.”
He gives her a hint of a smile, but he’s obviously not interested in being consoled. “I should’ve had that last goal. The angle was perfect. I just second-guessed myself at the last second and didn’t lean in enough.”
“But the redirect happened so fast, and—”
“I know,” he says, cutting her off before she can mount a full-throated argument for why he’s still the best goalie in the league. “I should’ve handled it differently, though. That’s what I get paid to do.”
His tone is gentle with April, but it’s obvious that he’s already replayed those last few seconds a hundred times in his head.
The fact that he’s willing to shoulder the blame for the whole team’s loss is probably exactly the kind of thing that makes him such a good goalie.
It’s also clearly making him miserable, though, and there’s zero chance that he leaves all that self-doubt, blame, and bruised ego behind when we leave here tonight.
I don’t quite know what to say, but I know he’s not looking for condolences. So I try something different.
“You know, this reminds me of the time I accidentally dropped April off for summer camp two weeks early, and then couldn’t figure out why nobody else was on time to drop their kids off that day.”
He blinks and looks at me like I’ve just started speaking in a different language. “What?”
“I spent twenty minutes arguing with the camp counselors about how they were obviously disorganized and unprepared before I realized I was the one who misread the calendar.” I stop and smile at the memory, even though it was beyond mortifying at the time.
“April was standing there in her cute little camp outfit, watching her mother make a complete fool of herself in front of a bunch of strangers.”
“Mom,” she groans like I’m embarrassing her all over again. “We promised not to talk about that day ever again.”
We did make that promise, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“I thought I was the worst parent in the history of parenthood. I was convinced that this one mistake was going to traumatize my daughter for life and that everyone at the camp would remember me as the crazy mom who couldn’t read a calendar.”
He snorts, but doesn’t quite smile, so I keep going.
“But those two weeks came and went, and you know what happened? I got the dates right, April had an amazing time at camp, and most of the other parents never even found out about my embarrassing screw-up. So if I can come back from that kind of humiliation, you can come back from one goal that ninety-nine percent of goalies wouldn’t have been able to save. ”
For a moment, he just stares at me with his mouth slightly hanging open. Then what starts as a hint of a smile turns into a real, genuine laugh that comes from deep in his belly and is so contagious that I start laughing along with him.
“Did you really argue with the counselors?”
I nod. “For twenty minutes. I was so sure they were wrong that I made them show me their copies of the paperwork.” I pause as I relive the cringe-worthy moment. “And their calendar.”
He lets out another belly laugh that almost makes him double over.
I know for sure I’m blushing like crazy, but I’m still laughing so hard that tears are forming in the corners of my eyes.
Even April, who started out so annoyed that I even mentioned the summer camp incident, has collapsed against my side in a fit of giggles.
“What’s that weird noise?”
A voice behind us cuts through our laughter, and we turn to see Theo Camden looking at Grant like he’s just grown two heads.
“Grant Parker is laughing? Someone needs to get a camera over here, stat.”
“Funny, Camden.” Grant’s face has gone back to the stiff, almost pained expression he was wearing before, and I’m so irritated that I could seriously smack Theo if we weren’t surrounded by a room full of witnesses.
And if he wasn’t a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than me, maybe.
Regardless, our private moment of levity is clearly over, and Grant will probably go back to brooding about the game until it’s time to leave.
“Heather?”
I turn to see a pretty, athletic-looking woman walking over, but there’s a look of recognition on her face like we’ve met before and I’m struggling to place a name with her face.
“Hi?” is the best I can manage as she gets closer.
“I’m Melanie,” she says with a smile as she extends her hand. “Grant’s physical therapist. I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you already.”
I look over at Grant, but he’s talking to Theo again and seems to be oblivious to the fact that his physical therapist has just called him out.
“He’s mentioned me?” I ask, curiosity winning out over embarrassment.
“Oh, more than mentioned.” Melanie leans in with a conspiratorial grin. “You and April—this must be April, right? Love the Aces gear!—have both been the topic of conversation for the past week or so. It’s been a constant stream of ‘Heather said this,’ and ‘April said that.’”
“Melanie…” Grant has apparently caught onto our conversation and he’s looking between the two of us with wide, wary eyes.
“What? I’m just saying it’s nice to finally put faces to the names I’ve been hearing.
” She turns back to me and rolls her eyes in his direction.
“He was so worried about going on the road and leaving the two of you to fend for yourselves so soon after moving in. He kept asking if I thought he should check in or if that would be too intrusive.”
I can’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. Even though Grant is physically squirming and looks like he’s just endured a root canal with no anesthetic, it’s undeniably sweet that he’s been so worried about us.
“That was thoughtful of you,” I say quietly, not wanting to embarrass him further in front of his teammates, but still wanting to acknowledge what Melanie has just said.
“I just wanted to make sure you were settling in okay.”
There’s a flutter in my stomach that only intensifies when our eyes meet. He holds my gaze for a split-second, and there’s something so vulnerable in his expression that it makes me want to pull him into a tight hug—just like April suggested earlier.
Before I can say anything else, my sister is at my side, tugging at my arm. “Heather, I need to get some quick shots of the families before everyone leaves. Do you mind if I borrow you and April for social media?”
I barely have time to excuse myself from the conversation with Melanie and Grant before I’m being pulled across the room to take some group photos.
But when Grant looks over and catches my eye again, that fluttery feeling comes back in full force.