Chapter 11
eleven
Luke
The team facility parking lot was full of media vans by the time I arrived around eight AM. I sat in my car for a minute with my engine off, hoping to catch a breather.
Yesterday I was the backup nobody asked about. Today there were three voicemails from news outlets who wanted "five minutes, tops" before brunch.
Funny how fast things change. I grabbed my bag and headed inside.
The PR coordinator caught me before I hit the locker room. She had her headset on, clipboard in hand.
"Luke! Great, you're early. We've got you in the media room at nine, then a quick sit-down for the pregame package, then we need you mic'd for the walk-in tonight?—"
"Walk-in?"
"Yeah. It's just cameras following you from the bus to the tunnel.
We'll probably have you do it two or three times to get the shot right.
We need you to act very natural and authentic.
Meaning, it should look like you're just casually heading in for one of the games—not like there are four cameras and a boom mic three feet from your face. "
"So, fake natural?" I asked.
"Exactly. You're getting it."
I hadn't thought about this side of playing hockey. Now that I was seeing it up close, it might not be my forte. I just wanted to be on the ice, play my games, and head home. The thought of Dani at home waiting for me briefly flashed through my mind.
Before I could help it, a smile stretched across my face at the thought of having Dani with me at all times.
“Are you listening to me, Luke?” The PR coordinator stopped walking and turned to face me.
That was all it took to snap me back to the present. I cleared my throat.
“Of course I am.”
She creased her forehead and shrugged.
"Also NBC wants a one-on-one after brunch. Twenty minutes."
I didn’t have twenty minutes. I didn’t have any minutes. But I nodded. Because that’s what you did when the team needed you to be the story for a day.
We reached the media room. It was hot under the lights. There were three cameras. A semicircle of reporters. And a kid from a hockey blog who looked more nervous than I felt.
The interview started as soon as I took center stage in the room.
"Luke, walk us through the moment you found out you were going in."
I gave them the version I felt was best. The team doctor waved me over. Bryan couldn’t continue. I just tried to stay ready and come through for the team like I was supposed to.
"Did you feel pressure, stepping into a Stanley Cup Final game cold?"
"I try not to think about pressure. Just the next shot."
"Some analysts are calling this the best relief performance in franchise history. How does that sit with you?"
I smiled. "I think our defense made me look a lot better than I am."
They liked that one. I guessed because everyone scribbled something in their notebooks.
By the fourth question about my "mental fortitude," something in my chest started to itch.
I kept answering. Kept smiling. But every question felt like someone reaching into my ribs and turning something over, just to see what was underneath.
By the time the interview session was over, it was time for brunch. Brunch was in the players' lounge. Pasture-raised eggs, organic fruit, the kind of clean, performance-approved spread the nutrition staff swore by, plus the fresh-pressed juice Coach only broke out for Finals week."
I found Finn at the end of the table. A plate full of food in one hand. Phone in the other.
"Glad to see you survived your first interview," Finn said before raising his head.
"Trust me, I barely did."
"First time’s the worst. After that it’s just six answers. You rotate ’em."
I sat across from him.
"How do you do it? I mean, with the cameras every day, and you don’t look like you hate it."
Finn looked at me.
"You don’t answer their question."
"Then what do you do?"
"You answer the one you wish they asked."
He began eating.
"They want a headline. Give ’em one. 'Hard work.' 'Team believed in me.' Doesn’t matter if it’s corny. Corny plays on TV."
"And the real stuff?"
"That’s not for them."
He pointed his sprouted bagel at me.
"That’s for the people who actually know you."
I thought about Dani.
"Yeah," I said. "Got it."
Finn watched me for a second too long.
"You got someone like that?"
I didn’t answer, but I couldn't wait for the day when I could finally let everyone know that someone was Dani.
My phone buzzed in the middle of a segment about "backup goalie mentality." I wasn't hearing any of it anyway.
I pulled it out.
Dani.
My heart fluttered. I quietly stepped out of the room. As soon as I reached the hallway, I swiped without thinking.
"Hey."
"Hi," she replied, sounding tired. "How are you doing?"
"Better now that I'm hearing your voice."
She laughed, and immediately an image of her doing that came to mind.
I pushed through the equipment bay door and let it shut. It was quieter than the hallway. It smelled like tape and sweat, and I found myself wondering how the equipment managers dealt with the stench day after day.
"Thank you for coming yesterday."
A pause.
"I wasn't gonna miss it," she said. "Lily made me promise we'd be there."
"I know it wasn't just because of Lily."
“Well, you're right.”
Her admission made my heart pump harder against my chest.
“I saw how Lily was yelling my name for two periods straight."
I could hear the smile in her voice.
"She's been talking about you nonstop since we got home. I think she is your biggest fan besides me right now. She drew you as soon as we got home."
Something warm hit my heart before I could stop it.
"Really?"
"Yes. She drew you with the stick. The glove up." Dani laughed, small. "Wrote 'Mommy's hockey friend' underneath. Her spelling is awful."
I pressed my forehead to a locker. Cold metal.
"I can't wait to see her drawing."
"I know." The words came out fast.
"She asked me this morning when you're coming over again. Luke, she's five. She latches on. And if this?—"
She stopped. "If this doesn't go anywhere, I can't do that to her."
"Then let's make sure it goes somewhere," I said.
"Luke, you don't even know what you're saying. Your life is about to?—"
"I know what I'm saying." I cut her off, but gently. "I haven't slept right since I met you. Last night I dreamed about you. And I woke up pissed it wasn't real."
She didn't say anything.
"I think about you when I'm not supposed to," I kept going. "When I'm supposed to be focused. You're the first person I want to tell when something happens. Good or bad."
I dragged a hand through my hair.
"I don't know what to call it. But I know I don't want to do this without you in it. I want the real parts. I want morning smoothies, Monday dinners, and picking Lily up from whatever it is five-year-olds get picked up from."
"Luke—"
“I’m not going anywhere, Dani.”
My voice dropped.
"I want you with me. All the time."
The silence stretched.
When she spoke, her voice was smaller.
"We can go for a Monday dinner. I can ask Maya to watch Lily. After the game."
"Monday," I said.
Relief hit so hard my knees almost buckled.
"I promise to make it worthwhile."
"You better."
I could hear her smile.
"And Luke?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'm beginning to like you very, very much."
“Same here, Dani. Same here.”
I hung up and stayed there a second, leaning against the locker, smelling the arena’s rubber mats and old ice.
My heart was still going too fast.
For the first time in a long time, I had something worth fighting for, and it wasn't ice.