Chapter 13
Ten Days Later
Blair
I’ve become my own worst enemy. I’m on my break from my OB clinical shift, and I’m not eating a nutritious meal. I’m not walking while listening to a soothing podcast for a mental reset.
I’m poring over today’s updates on hockey blogs and online sports news outlets while shoving a microwaved burrito in my mouth.
Magnus and I haven’t seen each other since hide-and-seek night, but we’ve been texting some, and he’s called three times. He had back-to-back road trips, and during the break between them, he had to deal with the fallout from a flooded hotel room.
A pipe burst in the room above his, and the ceiling of his room fell in from the weight of the water. He had to inventory all his things to let the hotel know what was damaged and relocate to another room.
A nurse who works at the hospital, Andie, comes into the break room and leans her back against the wall, exhaling slowly.
“It’s a really bad day to be an ex-smoker,” she says.
My heart goes out to her. One of her patients had a traumatic delivery earlier, and her baby was unexpectedly rushed to the NICU. I didn’t realize how deeply nurses can be affected by what’s happening with their patients until I was in the field experiencing it.
Obstetrics is usually joyful. New parents and their families are thrilled to be here, and they get to go home with a sweet, snuggly new family member.
But when it’s not joyful, it’s devastating. There’s no in between. Trying to help parents grieve a loss or medical complication I can’t even imagine is humbling.
“I’m a good listener,” I tell Andie. “And I’m also good at keeping to myself if you just need some space.”
She gives me a slight smile. “Thanks. You were so good with that laboring mom who doesn’t have anyone here with her.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want to leave her, but Briana made me take a fifteen-minute break and eat.”
“Always take your breaks.” She pushes off the wall and walks over to the refrigerator. “I’ve been doing this for twelve years, and that’s something I wish someone would have told me when I was new. No matter how crazy it gets, stepping away for a few minutes is important.”
She pulls a container out of the fridge, cringing. “Dr. Moran’s Chinese has been in here for a month. I’m making the call.”
Dumping it into the trash, she grabs her own lunch container, an insulated bag.
“What’s happening in your life?” she asks as she unpacks it.
“There’s a guy I really like, but he might have to move for his job this summer. Maybe Seattle. Or Vegas.”
“Damn. That’s really far. Is it an enjoy it while you can thing, or more complicated?”
“There isn’t a thing yet. It’s more like I like him; he likes me, but we both know he might be leaving. And I have kids, so I’m not having a fling.”
I don’t know her, but I think that’s actually why it’s so much easier to just put it all out there. With Jules, I don’t want to admit just how much I like Magnus. I’m worried she’ll try to intervene with Noel to keep Magnus here, and I’d never want to create professional problems for him.
“Seattle or Vegas.” Andie furrows her brow. “Those are very different places. What line of work is he in?”
“He’s an athlete.”
Her face lights up with a smile. “That’s so cool. When will he know if he’s moving?”
It depends on whom you ask. According to Jackson Hodge, a fan whose Substack I now subscribe to and read faithfully, Seattle and Vegas are likely the top two teams that will go after Magnus. Boston and Tampa are possibilities, too.
Jackson breaks it all down, discussing things like salary caps, potential line combinations, and who might be retiring. It seems like a lot of it is speculation, but from what other subscribers have said, his speculation is knowledgeable.
There’s also other online chatter about Magnus. It seems like he’s having a great season. Everyone seems to agree he’ll get a great contract, but the big question is where.
“Hopefully soon.” I take a sip of my iced tea and glance at my watch.
Jackson has said Cleveland could make Magnus an offer, but he doesn’t know if they’ll be able to be competitive.
I don’t know what that means, and it’s part of my frustration. What’s worse is that my soon-to-be brother-in-law understands it all perfectly, but I can’t talk to him about it.
I could ask Suki. Can I trust her that much? She could tell Carter everything, and it could get back to Magnus. Jules has told me Suki is rock solid, though, and they’ve become very good friends.
I text her.
Blair: Hey, I have some questions about hockey contracts for no particular reason. Can you call me sometime?
To my surprise, she texts me back immediately.
Suki: Is now okay? Rachel just went down for a nap and the girls are at school.
Blair: Sure, if you have time.
I throw away my burrito wrapper and pick up my tea, telling Andie I’m going to walk for a bit. Before I even get to the stairwell at the end of the hallway, Suki is calling me.
“Hi,” I say in answer.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Pretty good. A better question is how are you, solo parenting with back-to-back road trips?”
She huffs a note of laughter. “I’ve been bribing Olivia to help me. She’s banked a mani-pedi, a facial, and a sleepover with three friends so far. It’s worth every penny.”
“Good for you.”
“Will you tell Jules we need to get dress shopping on everyone’s schedule? With Mara’s pregnancy and me needing to line up childcare, we have to plan it.”
“I will. She said she can stay home from a weekend road trip so we can do it, but then that leaves you without Carter.”
“It’s fine. I have help; I just need to schedule it in advance.”
“Okay, so ... I just want to ask you, hypothetically, of course, about hockey player contracts.”
“Sure. What do you want to know? It’ll stay between us.”
I glance at my watch. Seven more minutes of break time. “If someone doesn’t have a contract for next year, when will they know if they’re getting one? And what team it’ll be from?”
“On when, I’m pretty sure other teams can’t offer him a contract until July.”
“July?!”
That’s a little over five months away. It feels like an eternity.
“They can’t formally offer him one. They can still talk to his agent. Cleveland could offer him one sooner.”
“How much sooner?”
She groans softly. “I’m still learning all this, so I might be wrong, but I think they could offer him a contract at any time unless they have cap issues.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Okay, imagine a big bucket of money the front office people have to spend on players. Every team gets a bucket with the same amount of money. The owners can’t add any more money to it.
They’re capped at the amount of money in the bucket.
And things are always changing. Let’s say they have all of the money in their bucket committed and then they move a guy down to the minors and trade another guy.
Now there’s some money back in their bucket, because they won’t have to spend as much, and they can use that money for someone else. ”
“Okay, that makes sense. So when someone says a team might not be able to be competitive for a player, it’s—”
“Darling Maxwell, drop it.” She scolds the pig softly, probably not wanting to wake the baby. “Sorry. It’s because they might now have enough money left in the bucket.”
I see Magnus’s situation in a whole new light. Every game must feel critically important. He’s kind of in competition with his own teammates, trying to show the decision-makers that he’s worth cutting someone else so they can keep him.
“I didn’t know it’s like that,” I admit.
“I know this is just hypothetical, but take Magnus, for example. He’s going to get a contract. The question is, will Cleveland lock him down or will another team get him? And that has to make it really hard for him to get close to people.”
“Yeah.”
I hear snorting sounds in the background.
“Just remember it’s outside his control,” she says gently. “He’s under a lot of pressure to perform, and I’m sure he wishes he knew where he was going to be next year more than anyone.”
“I have to get back to work, but this was really helpful. Thank you.”
“Anytime. And if you ever need me to take the boys to the skills practice, my Suburban has plenty of room for them and all their equipment.”
“Thanks. Jules is my backup, but if I ever need a backup backup, I’ll remember that.”
“Okay, talk soon.”
“Bye, Suki.”
I put my phone in the pocket of my scrub pants and head back to work.