Chapter 7
The Linwood Rink looked different from the last time I was here. Studs framed what would be the new lobby, and plastic hung from the ceiling where another section was under construction. That seemed to fit Linwood, a mix of old and new.
Leena perked up the second we stepped through the doors, her little legs kicking against my side as she pointed toward the ice.
“Are you ready to watch?” I asked.
She bounced in my arms, eyes fixed on the skaters.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
Beckett blew his whistle, and whatever drill he’d intended dissolved into chaos.
One kid pinballed another into the boards.
A girl stole the puck from both of them without breaking stride, taking it down the ice on a breakaway and scoring top-shelf against the goalie who dropped too soon.
“Smash!” Beckett barked.
The pinballer threw his hands in the air. “I barely hit him!”
“You tackled him.”
Ty pointed toward the blue line. “Lap.”
The kid groaned loud enough for everyone in the rink to hear. “This organization is corrupt.”
“Two laps.”
“You abuse your power.”
“Keep talking. See how that works out for you.”
He skated away, muttering something about calling his lawyer.
Leena laughed, a belly-deep giggle that made the corners of her eyes crinkle.
I couldn’t help but smile too while I took a seat in the stands with Leena in my lap.
I tugged a beanie out of Leena’s diaper bag and pulled it down over her ears.
She clapped her hands to the music. It wasn’t often that I sat on this side of the glass watching others on the ice, but being here, feeling the cold air against my face, felt right.
It only took a few minutes before I understood why Beckett and Ty kept coming back. Here in Linwood, hockey mattered. But these kids mattered more.
I hated the idea of having to choose between Leena and hockey, but I knew I’d choose my child in a heartbeat. But I didn’t want to choose.
I also didn’t want my daughter to grow up spending more time with strangers than with me.
Just as my thoughts spiraled, a dark figure walked into my peripheral vision.
Shannon strode toward me wearing a burgundy shirt hanging off one shoulder, the rose tattoos showing on her skin.
Her black jeans and boots matched the stormy look in her eyes as she walked toward us, softening only when my daughter turned to her and waved.
“Up,” Shannon said as she walked through the row of seats toward me.
“Excuse me?”
“Stand up, please.” Her words were nicer, but the intensity radiating off her didn’t lessen. “I want to test something.”
I set Leena on her feet, then stood up. Shannon crossed her arms over her chest.
“Now what?”
“Now, we’re going to see if I can get Leena to warm up to me. And when she does, you’re going to get on the ice with the team.”
I blinked, not bothering to hide my smirk as my daughter clung to my sweatpants. “There’s a lot of confidence in those words. You’re just going to boss us around?”
Shannon’s eyes glistened with a level of mischief I felt like I was about to regret. She dropped her backpack onto the bench seat, then sat down next to it and tugged the zipper open. Out came a bag of snacks, then several toys I’d seen in Emmy’s Pilates studio.
She didn’t ask Leena if she wanted to play.
She didn’t talk to her at all.
She opened the bag of snacks and placed it in her lap, then began setting up little princess dolls.
Leena peeked around my leg, watching her intently. When Shannon popped a cheese cracker in her mouth, Leena’s eyes followed the movement, her grip loosening on my leg.
Without looking at her, Shannon grabbed two crackers and held them in her open palm toward Leena while she played with a doll in her other hand.
I was about to lose this round.
The moment Leena stepped away from me and toward Shannon, I could hardly breathe the air left my lungs so fast.
“Would you like one?” Shannon said when she finally looked down at my daughter. She ate one of the crackers, then held the second one between two pinched fingers.
Leena closed her hand around it, then popped it into her mouth, chewing while she turned to look at the toys.
“Go now,” Shannon whispered. “Try not to walk past her if you can, but I want you suited up and on the ice. Prove to me this crackpot idea of yours is even going to work, and I’ll do it.”
If I couldn’t breathe before, then I wasn’t sure how to describe the tightness in my chest now.
She shooed me off with her hand, talking to Leena about which princess was which instead.
I backed away slowly, feeling the anxiety rush I had last week when I’d left Leena in Denver with my mom. But as long as I kept her in my sight, it wasn’t as crippling as before.
“What’s up, buddy?” Beckett said as I stopped near the bench, still staring at Shannon and Leena in the stands.
“Have any spare skates?” I asked.
Jace grinned, his wide smile showing behind his cage looking like Beckett, even though he wasn’t his biological son. “Hell yeah, fuck yeah.”
“Language,” Ty said as he slapped a pair of skates against my chest. I’d known Ty Hudson for several years, crossing paths before he retired from the NHL.
But he was a Linwood native and Beckett’s soon-to-be brother-in-law.
The mustached man didn’t smile much, unless he was looking at his kid standing on the bench with a whistle in her mouth. Something I understood perfectly.
Smash slammed into the boards in front of us, nearly flipping over the side. “Last time you skated with us, I couldn’t breathe for a week.”
“That’s what being wildly out of shape will do to you,” Molly said, her tone bored as ever. She was the only girl on the high school team and was the fastest of the bunch.
I chuckled, looking up at the girls across the rink once more. Leena now sat in Shannon’s lap, her hand in the baggie of snacks. Maybe I should have been concerned by how easily she was won over by cheese and princesses, but I could hardly blame my daughter, not when it was Shannon sitting there.
She’d won me over with a lot less.
The moment my ass touched the bench, the kids all let out a whoop, and Leena looked up. Her eyes connected with mine, but instead of crying out at my loss, she waved at me, then did her little happy bounce on Shannon’s lap.
Shannon grinned, and that image was one I’d remember for the rest of my life.
“Don’t go easy on him,” Shannon called out as I laced up my skates. “I’m talking all of you versus Mikko and Mustard.”
“Does she mean me?” the goalie said, his voice rising an octave as he adjusted his helmet.
“Considering no one else has a condiment as a nickname, yeah. I’m guessing that’s you, Pickles,” Ty said with a smirk.
“Ah, come on, Coach.”
Beckett laughed, then rubbed his hands together. “So, what? We all try to score on you?”
“Easy,” Molly said, all cocky confidence I understood too well. “Prepare to eat rubber.”
“I’ll join the defense,” Ty said, grabbing another pair of skates. I held my hand out, and we bumped knuckles. “Even the playing field.”
“Please,” Jace scoffed. “So if Beckett plays on offense with us, that’s still 4-on-2.”
“I don’t like those odds,” Pickles said, and Smash tugged him into a headlock.
Molly clipped her chinstrap back into place. “You’ll survive.”
“I won’t,” Pickles wheezed from Delgado’s headlock. “Tell my mom I love her.”
Ty’s daughter, Junie, jumped up and down on the bench, a whistle around her neck. “I don’t even know how to calculate the odds of this. Does this drill have a name?”
“Mayhem,” Ty said, and I grinned.
“So, what do we get if we score?” Jace asked. “A suite at a Yeti game?”
I shrugged. “Depends. Do I have to feed you?”
“I saw your contract,” Ty said. “You can afford it.”
The kids spilled onto the ice before Beckett could organize them into anything resembling a drill.
“All right,” Beckett yelled over the music. “Defense in white. Forwards in black. Mikko and Ty, you’re on defense.”
“What am I?” Pickles asked.
“The goalie,” Ty called back.
“Dang. I was hoping you’d forgotten.”
The puck hit the ice, and every single kid charged me.
Beckett stood at the half line, a broad grin on his face as chaos ensued. I couldn’t help laughing.
Maybe it was because none of them looked intimidated.
Maybe it was because they all wanted the chance to say they’d deke’d an NHL player.
Whatever the reason, they came at me with everything they had.
Jace attacked first with quick hands and good edges. Much smoother than the last time I skated with him. He tried to slip the puck through my skates, and I knocked it away with the toe of my stick.
“Rude,” he muttered as he chased it into the corner.
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
Molly stole it from him before he even got there. I expected it, but I was impressed that she didn’t hesitate. Head up. Weight forward. Confident. She pushed forehand before dragging it backhand around me.
Nice move.
I let her think she’d beaten me until the last second, when I reached behind me with one hand and swept the puck away.
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, come on.”
“You almost had him,” Ty called.
“I did have him!”
I skated backward with the puck, unable to stop smiling when I passed it to Ty, playing keep away from the kids.
“Again.”
That was all it took.
For the next fifteen minutes, they forgot I played in the NHL. I wasn’t Mikko Laaksonen. I was another obstacle standing between them and the net.
Smash tried to run me over but bounced off my chest instead. “Ow.”
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Yeah.” He rubbed his chest. “You’re really Finnish.”
“What does that mean?” Jace asked as he raced by, accepting a pass from Beckett.
“Fuckin’ huge!” Smash shouted back, charging me yet again.
Everyone burst into laughter as Ty and Beckett both scolded him for his language.
The next rush came three-on-two. Molly carried the puck in before slipping a pass across to Jace. He one-touched it toward Smash, somehow getting it past Ty.
I got my stick there in time, and the puck deflected harmlessly into the corner.
“Better!” I called. “Again!”
They reset.
Again.
Again.
Again.