23. Brock
23
brOCK
I thought it would feel worse. It should feel worse. I’ve known for a long time that my ice hockey career would likely come to an abrupt, unwanted end. I had always assumed that the day that reality crashed in would be completely devastating, and it is––to a degree.
Perhaps sensing that this day would eventually come helped me mentally prepare for it. Or maybe my worn-out body knows that it’s time for a change. Either way, I’m sad that it’s done, and I’ll probably always miss playing professional hockey, but my life is far from over. In fact, I’m pretty sure the best is yet to come.
A certain penny-killing, mermaid-doctor likely has something to do with my unwavering hope for the future. Okay, she has everything to do with it.
I may not have all the answers about my plan for the future, but I know one thing for certain. I want Dr. Caroline Wilson to be a huge part of it.
As I stand in my kitchen, finishing my morning coffee, I decide that it’s high time for me to proclaim my feelings for the beautiful woman. It may take some convincing to get her to agree to be with me, but one of the biggest obstacles standing in the way of us having a relationship has just been removed.
My inability to continue playing hockey is devastating, but it does come with a significant silver lining. It paves the way for me to be with the woman I’ve been falling in love with since the moment I first saw her.
This conversation is sure to be one of the most important of my life, so it deserves to be in person. I’m not sure if I’m ready to face the guys on my team yet, but it’s worth putting on a brave face in front of them in order to get to see Caroline. I’m too excited to speak to her to wait until she gets off work tonight.
With that decision made, I check the time on my phone to see if it’s too early to head over to the rink. A noise on my front porch draws my attention, so I hurry to the front door to see what’s going on.
It’s unlikely that kids are playing a prank this early in the morning, but I’d rather catch them in the act this time, if they are.
When I fling open my wide door, startled eyes greet mine. “Oh, sorry. I was trying to be quiet. I just wanted to leave this here for you.”
My gaze darts between the beautiful woman and the statue she’s fussing over. As soon as she plops a snazzy maroon beret on the goose’s head and adjusts the angle of the hat to her liking she says, “Ta-da! It’s Donald 2.”
I can’t stop the wide grin that spreads across my face as I join her outside and squat down to check out the thoughtful gift.
When I grab the notecard tucked under the goose’s webbed feet, Caroline says, “Oh, you can read that after I leave. I just wanted to drop him off and leave without bothering you.”
“You’re not bothering me,” I assure her as I stand and rip open the envelope, fully ignoring her suggestion that I wait to read it.
Her slanted, script penmanship is adorable and readable, making it appear very undoctor-like. I read the message aloud. “Life doesn’t always go as we originally planned, but sometimes the second and third periods are even better than the first.”
The lovely woman’s cheeks are flushed bright red when I look up from the card. She stares down at the colorful, braided rug on my front porch and says, “I know it’s silly. I just wanted to remind you that sometimes seemingly huge setbacks can actually turn out to be big blessings in disguise.”
“It’s not silly at all. It’s perfect, and I’m starting to realize just how blessed I am.”
I keep my warm gaze steady on her until she lifts her eyes to look back at me.
Tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear, Caroline says, “I didn’t intend for you to see me this morning. I look awful.”
“You could never look awful,” I assure her.
Giving me a no-nonsense look, she says, “I’m such a puffy-eyed mess from crying half the night that my phone’s facial identification system didn’t recognize me this morning.”
The surprised laugh bursts out of me. The woman doesn’t look as polished as she usually does, but her natural beauty still shines through.
Hoping to sound relatable, I say, “I’ve had that problem before when I’m too battered and bruised for mine to recognize me.”
Now it’s her turn to chuckle, but the half-hearted sound doesn’t ring true. It’s obvious that something is wrong with her, and I’ll do anything in my power to make it better.
Reaching up to rub my rough thumb along the soft skin on her cheek, I ask, “What were you crying about? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”
One side of her mouth tips up into a sad smile. “You just found out that you aren’t going to be able to do the thing you love most in this world ever again, and you’re worried about how I’m doing?”
“Of course, I’m worried about you, and I’m curious why you’re sad.” I give her a questioning gaze, hoping it will inspire her to share what is wrong.
“I’m sad for you,” she admits.
Her sincere concern makes my heart swell in my chest. Needing to reassure her, I say, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”
“Promise?” she asks, gazing up at me.
“Promise.” I assure her.
Deciding it’s now or never, I pick up on her earlier statement. “Who says that ice hockey is what I love doing the most, anyway?”
Her brows furrow together in obvious confusion. “What could you possibly love doing more than playing ice hockey?”
“Playing with you,” I answer in a soft tone. It’s a lighthearted enough statement that I could be teasing, so I insert extra sincerity into the words to let her know I mean it.
Her gaze darts up to mine. Unasked questions shimmer in her eyes, so I do my best to answer them all by nodding in confirmation of my words.
I can practically see the wheels turning in her brilliant mind just before she tilts her head to the side and says, “But…”
Knowing the all-encompassing truth to my statement, I interrupt her planned objection. “But nothing. It’s true, I’ve suffered a major setback, but there are still amazing things to come in my life. Although I don’t have all of the answers right now, I know that I can figure it out as long as I have you by my side.”
Her eyes are watery as she grins up at me. The warm emotions lighting up her face give me the confidence to continue. “What do you say? Will you be mine, Penny Killer?”
She chuckles at the silly nickname before responding. “I will, as long as you’ll be mine, Penny Collector.”
“Already am,” I assure her before sweeping her into my arms and carrying her into our uncertain, but bright future together.