fourteen
CONNOR
A strong mix of emotions hit Connor as the Glacier’s team bus pulled into the parking lot of the Thunderstorm stadium in North Carolina where he’d spent his career playing. Loss and longing, a bit of regret, some sadness and exclusion, happiness at the memories he’d made in this place. Plus so many things he felt intensely but couldn’t begin to name. Counting back the days, he realized it had only been a week since he’d last been there. It was simultaneously as if no time had passed and that weeks had. Maybe even months.
It didn’t help that all day long, the sports commentators had been donning their Santa hats and talking about this final game before the league’s three-day Christmas break. They played up the rivalry between the Glaciers and the Thunderstorm and how the Thunderstorm’s D-Man, Ackerman, was very recently on the Glaciers’ team and that the Glaciers’ right wing was quite recently on the Thunderstorm’s.
They kept talking about how Ackerman had been a big source of the rivalry between the two teams, especially after last year’s playoffs and wondered how it would all turn out. Were the two of them going to go easier on their old teams? Harder? Make mistakes? Play their best to show their old teams what they gave up? Had they gotten a chance yet to bond with their new teammates? Was swapping players going to be like an olive branch to soften the rivalry between these teams? The only thing they could all agree on was that emotions were going to run high on the ice.
The commentators also talked about the fact that since Ackerman was on defense and Connor on offense, and that they played on the same side of the rink, they were going to be matching up a lot. They were no strangers to playing toe-to-toe against each other; they’d just never done it before with their jerseys swapped.
Connor wanted to call Katie and talk it all out with her. He knew she would keep a level head, bring out the best in the situation, keep him grounded and focused on the right things, and leave him pumped up and ready to take on the world. Not only would the guys razz him and his coach get after him for it, but it was Connor’s job to ignore all the voices outside of his team and to get his head in the game.
So he did, even though the response of the fans toward him being back in town seemed to be a mix of support and resentfulness, leaving him feeling like he’d lost a sense of home and belonging. He got off the bus with his team, grabbed his gear, and headed inside. It felt strange to head to the visiting team lockers instead of the home team ones.
It was strange to put on a different team’s jersey inside this particular arena.
It was strange to go onto the ice and warm up on the opposite half of the ice.
And it was strange lining up at center ice for the faceoff against his friends and very recent teammates.
He made eye contact with the Thunderstorm’s new goalie. He gave the player a nod— an acknowledgment that they both got traded to new teams and had to move eight days before Christmas and that it was hard.
He found the camera, sent a little wave and a wink to Katie, and then turned his focus to the game.
It was clear from the moment the puck was dropped onto the ice that it was going to be a tough game. And it was clear from the moment Ackerman body-checked him into the boards— a short twenty-three seconds into the game— that his opponent was going to play hard and that the game would get physical. Any time Connor had the puck, Ackerman hit into him. It was all a legal but exhausting way to play.
As the game went on, Ackerman’s hits became even harder and of the less legal variety, including a penalty for boarding, when he came from behind and hit Connor in the back, pushing his face into the boards when he didn’t have the puck, slashing at his stick, and, in the third quarter, grabbing him by the jersey and punching him. They both spent time in the penalty box, but Ackerman got three times the number of minutes that Connor did.
Connor gave his all at every single game he played. But knowing that Katie was watching made him give more of himself than he thought he could. It was a hard-fought game from every single player on the ice— not just from Ackerman and Connor— from beginning to end. It was as if every one of them was looking to be at the top of the leaderboards on body checks. As hard as every one of them played, though, when the end-of-game horn sounded, the scoreboard showed the Glaciers down by a goal.
Connor and his teammates headed off the ice and toward their locker room. As soon as they were away from the view of the cameras and the fans, Calloway took off his helmet and chucked it down the hallway, letting out a string of swears. Connor got it. The loss felt personal.
Even still, he couldn’t pass up the chance to see his old teammates off the ice once the meeting with the coaches to review the game was over. He headed toward the Thunderstorm’s locker rooms, his body already aching from the beating it had taken. He was about to text Vaughan to see if he could meet him in the hall so he didn’t have to risk a possible incident with Ackerman when he rounded a corner in the corridor and saw his friend walking toward him.
“Hey,” Vaughan said. “I was just coming to find you.” He and Vaughan greeted each other with a half-handshake, half-hug and chatted about the game for a few moments, just like they used to after games. It was bittersweet to talk to him in the same way they did when they saw each other daily, knowing they were going home to separate states tonight and he wouldn’t see him again until their teams played each other again in April.
“I have an old teammate who plays for the Explorers now,” Vaughan said, “and he told me there are rumors that they’re looking to trade their right wing.”
Connor’s eyebrows raised.
“Ohio’s only an hour-and-a-half flight from here, and they’re a great team. You should consider talking to your agent about that possibility.”
He imagined what that might be like all the way back to the locker room. It would be nice to be closer to home. But today only left him feeling pulled between conflicting desires. He missed Charlotte. He missed this stadium, this team, these fans. At the same time, though, he couldn’t wait to get back to Colorado to see Katie again.
It was late when the team’s plane landed at Denver International, and even later by the time Connor finally got back to his hotel. He fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake nearly as early— or as pain-free— as he had hoped. He had a bit of shopping he wanted to do before he headed to the Allreds’ home to spend the next three days, though.
He stretched his shoulder muscles a bit to ease the soreness as he walked out of the store and into the snow, pulled out his phone, and called Katie. Last night’s game had been a punishing one, and he was aching and sore all over.
“Good morning!”
It was so good to hear her voice, especially after the exhausting trip to Charlotte. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Connor, it’s eleven o’clock. That would be ridiculous if you did.” She paused. “I’ve been up for a good ten minutes.”
He laughed. “I’m glad I didn’t call you when I first wanted to, then.”
“When was that?”
“The moment I woke up.” It was a confession he was surprised he said out loud, given the amount of time they’d been dating so far. But things with Katie were just different from anything he’d experienced before. “But since you were still working when I called you on the drive home last night, I figured I better wait. Did you finish?”
“I did.” He could hear the smile in her voice. “I got the footage from the hay ride— which was the last of it— sent to the Glaciers, and I got the video for tonight’s Allred family party finished at about four a.m.”
“Congratulations! You didn’t drool on the keyboard, accidentally edit in your snoring as the soundtrack, or leave a trail of Z’s in the captions, right?”
“Nope,” she said rather proudly. “I had enough caffeine in me up until the end. Of course, I can now hear colors and see sounds, so there’s that.”
“Then I will make sure to only wear the most melodious shades when I see you today.” He reached an intersection and pressed the button for the crosswalk. “I am just heading to my car right now, then I’ve got to stop back at my hotel to grab a bag with the few clothing items I have until my package from Laura shows up.” If he’d known it would take so long to ship during the holiday season and with weather delays, he would’ve just had her pack him a suitcase to take home with him last night.
“Has it already started snowing?”
The light for the crosswalk turned green, and as he started walking, he looked up at the snow that had been lazily falling from the sky when he’d first gone into that store but was now falling with a bit more enthusiasm. “Yep. It’s not too crazy yet, but I want to get up the mountain before the roads get bad.”
He was most of the way across the sidewalk when he noticed a family that was walking toward the crosswalk. Two kids— a boy and a girl who were both teenagers— and a mom who was holding hands with a dad. His dad. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you when I get close.” He hung up the phone and put it in his pocket just as he reached the other side where his dad had stopped in his tracks, as surprised to see Connor as Connor was to see him.
It had been ten years since Connor had last seen him, and all the pain of his dad not only moving out but deciding that he didn’t need them anymore hit him fresh.
“Connor,” he said, letting go of the woman’s hand and taking a step toward him. “It’s good to see you. I heard you were traded to the Glaciers.”
Connor hadn’t known where his dad was living for years. But he knew that Connor was back in Denver? So many questions filled his mind. More than he could take in, making the moment feel overwhelming enough that he couldn’t even manage to say anything.
“I, uh, got remarried about a year ago.”
Connor’s eyes flicked to the woman and then to who he presumed were her kids. A boy and a girl, just like he had the first time around with Connor and Laura. Somehow, this felt like an even bigger betrayal.
“I’ve wanted to tell you.”
“Tell me what? That you found a family to replace us?”
“No, that’s— ”
“I’m sorry,” Connor said. “I’ve got somewhere I need to be before the roads get bad.” Then he turned away from them and hurried toward his car, not even pausing long enough to see the expression on his dad’s face. Whatever it was, it was more than he could handle right now.
Why did he have to get traded to Denver , of all places?
He felt the buzz of a text and pulled his phone from his pocket. It was a text from his agent.
I caught the game last night. You played well. Sorry, you weren’t able to pull a win out of it. That was rough, buddy. Just let me know when you’re ready for me to submit that trade request. It could cause strife between you and the GM, especially since they just worked so hard to get you, but it’s also good to give them a heads-up that you want to leave so they can keep an eye out for a beneficial trade. But it’d probably be best if you kept it from your teammates. If you don’t end up getting traded until the end of the season, you don’t want it causing ripples before then.
Connor didn’t respond to the text. He just turned his phone off, shoved it into his pocket, and kept on walking.