Chapter Six #2
He leans back, grinning. He’s got a dusting of hair on his jaw now, and I haven’t seen him with a beard in a long ass time.
“Oh yeah. Carla was pregnant with baby number four, so we needed the extra money to get a new house with more space. So, I signed the deal and trimmed my beard on camera. Got me a down payment on the land we still have today.”
No shit. I find myself scrubbing my clean-shaven jaw. “They wanted to cover up my scar today,” I admit, thumb brushing the edge of it. “I pretty much told them to fuck off.”
Dennis laughs and Dad asks, “Did they go through with the shoot?”
I lift a shoulder and nod. “They did when Amber had something to say about it.”
He makes a thoughtful noise. “Smart of them.”
Dad won’t admit it, but I think Amber terrifies him a little.
We fall into easy conversation about practice, game day schedules, and everything to do with the sport. It’s not often we dive into the personal stuff because Dad isn’t pushy on the topic. Dennis, however, is.
“Have you thought about what comes after?” he asks casually, sipping his beer.
“I know you just started with this new team, but we’ve all got to think about life after our bodies start failing us.
I was your age when I realized I was on borrowed time, but there were people older than me who kept playing until well into their forties. ”
This isn’t the first time somebody has brought up the conversation. It’s always in the back of my mind, especially during seasons where I take a little more of a beating. I’ve been lucky so far, but I can feel it in my muscles, ligaments, and bones. The end is near, whether I want it to be or not.
Dad clears his throat. “We don’t need to talk about that,” he says dismissively, probably assuming the worst of my silence.
The truth is, I don’t know what comes after. I’ve got money invested in a few rental properties, some stocks, and plenty in savings. My accountant has ensured I’d financially set for life. It’s everything else I don’t have a solid grasp on.
“I’m not sure,” I tell Dennis honestly. “I’d like to settle down. Maybe have a kid. But you know better than anyone how time-consuming hockey is. It’s hard to focus on much else.”
He nods in understanding. “Meeting people when you’ve already made a name for yourself can be tricky.
You need to find somebody you can trust with all of you—not just the athlete version.
I’m lucky I met Carla when we were younger, long before I ever got drafted.
But I’m one of the rare cases. I’m lucky she stood by my side through it all without giving up. ”
I can’t help but wonder how. The few girls I have given my time to never liked how chaotic my schedule was. They didn’t feel like I gave them enough attention or tried accusing me of cheating whenever I was away for a game. “Were there times she almost did?”
“Sure. We’re all human.” He says it so casually it takes me by surprise.
“The important thing is, we always worked through it. When you find your person, someone you can trust with the most vulnerable parts of you, you don’t let that go.
Take it from me, son. You can have millions of people love you, but the love that hits the deepest is usually only given by one person. ”
I stare at my water glass thoughtfully. When I glance up, I see Dad studying me a little too closely. He doesn’t say anything, but I see the tiniest smile behind his glass of whiskey as he takes a drink.
“Yeah,” I eventually murmur. “You’re right.”
Dennis pats my arm. “You’ve got time. Better not to rush into something like that.”
Dad changes the subject to something from their glory days back in high school when they played basketball together. I appreciate it, because it gives me time to think about who in my life that I can trust the most.
And only one girl comes to mind, but I bat the mental image away before it can fully surface.
“I think I’m signing onto a new deal,” I tell them after their conversation lulls.
Then I tell them about the potential new partnership with Isaac Andrews.
Its apparent Dad doesn’t recognize the name, which makes sense.
He wasn’t too involved in remembering the people Belle dated.
It isn’t like she brought him home and introduced him to the family, and I’m not about to bring up that reminder.
Dennis and I talk about the product, then the different ones his name is attached to, and Dad asks if I’m going to accept it. He knows I’m not one to sign onto just anything, so there’s interest on his face when I tell him yes.
Because if I don’t accept, it’ll feel like I’m doing it out of personal petty. If I do, it’s nothing but mutual benefits. I get paid, they get a celebrity endorsement, and everybody wins.
But there’s that damn inkling in the back of my mind that worries I’ll reintroduce Belle to somebody she hasn’t spoken about in years.
She’s barely dated anybody since, mostly because she’s busy, but also because she’s admitted she can’t find anybody driven enough.
If Isaac is head of marketing for a company that Red Bull owns, that means he’s on the authority list. Would she find that attractive?
Who cares? the voice inside my head asks, exhausted by the turmoil that always surrounds Belle.
My grip on the water glass tightens because it’s obvious I do. And I hate it. I hate that I can’t focus on somebody other than her. I hate that every time I try, it’s her in the back of my mind. Wondering what she’s doing. Who she’s doing it with. It’s fucking infuriating.
“…not a bad idea if you think about it.”
I snap out of it when I hear the tail end of Dennis speaking. “Sorry. What?”
He smiles. “I said it’s not a bad idea to sign onto it even if you don’t know if the drink is any good. I’ve heard talk about them. They’re supposed to be the organic, health nut version of every energy drink out there. It could be the next Wheaties deal.”
Dad snorts, clasping the back of Dennis’s shoulder. “You just aged yourself, my friend.”
“People still get deals to be on the box,” Dennis defends nonchalantly. “Hell, I’d do it again in a heartbeat if I could. But nobody wants a washed-up hockey player as their photo op. They want the Jesse Clarkson’s of the world.”
Hearing him say that both swells my heart and deflates it. Because there’s a fine line between the person I am on the ice and the one I am off it. And I never want to forget who I am when my skates are hung up at the end of the day.
“Anybody would be down to have a legend’s face on their brand,” I tell Dennis, and I mean it. His merch still sells even after all these years of retirement. He’ll go to training camps and do speeches to pump up the fresh blood, which makes him relevant and desired.
The only person who doesn’t see that is Dennis himself. And that’s why I want to be like him. I’d rather think my time in the hockey world is done than brag about my importance in it.
“I’d do a commercial with you any day,” I admit, lifting a shoulder when he chuckles in my direction. “Frankly, I think more people in this industry need to remember we didn’t invent the game.”
Something flashes in Dennis’s eyes. Appreciation. “Thank you, son. I think I needed to hear that today.”
It’s the first time since knowing Dennis that I see a vulnerability behind those wise eyes. Normally, he’s the first to offer advice without thinking twice about it. But it’s obvious that he misses his career in ways I have no doubt I’d feel the same way about.
I finish off the drink I got, say my goodbyes to the men, and pull my phone out to make a call as soon as I get into my car.