Shot on Goal

by Jami Davenport

  She was going to watch Drew and her guys play in Game 7.

  Chapter 26—Third Period

  The team flew to Pittsburgh a day early, and Drew met his father for a late lunch. He hadn’t talked to the man other than a few short words here and there for weeks.

  Drew couldn’t blow him off before the final game for the Cup. Winning probably meant as much to his dad as it did to Drew.

  “Any words of wisdom, Dad?” Drew asked, feeling magnanimous. Not even his father’s infamous criticism could ruin how Drew was feeling about Game 7. He’d played well in the last few games. Scored in every one of them, including his hat trick, and he was on a high.

  Stafford stared at him and blinked. “I—uh, not really. I mean you’ve been playing like a man on a mission. I can’t improve on that.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Embarrassed by his father’s rare compliment, Drew could feel the heat rising up his neck and across his cheeks. He was glad none of the guys were around to see it. His father was bad enough.

  “I’ve been hard on you over the years, and it took almost losing you, too, for me to see what an asshole I’ve been. I love you, son. I’ll love you if you play championship hockey or if you’re a flagger on a construction site. Doesn’t matter to me as long as your mother and I can share your life. Nor does it matter who else you share it with.”

  “Like Marina?”

  “Yeah, like Marina. It’s time to send the demons of our past packing. Marina has paid the price a thousand times over for her foolish mistake. We’re all guilty of dumbass stuff we did in our younger years.” He grinned and took a swig of his water. Drew noticed for the first time his father wasn’t drinking alcohol.

  “Thanks, Dad. Your approval means a lot to me.”

  “You’re welcome. Your brother would be proud of you, too.”

  Drew stared at his hands and swallowed hard, working to compose himself before he spoke.

  “She’s been good for you,” Stafford added.

  Drew’s head shot up. His mouth fell open, and he struggled for words. “Marina?”

  “Of course, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  Drew frowned and squinted at his father. He’d never considered him a romantic. “Yeah, but it’s not going to be easy.”

  “Nothing good ever is or what would be the fun of living life? Look how close I came to winning the Cup and never did. The one thing I wanted most in my career, and I never achieved it. If it’d been easy to get, I wouldn’t have cared.”

  “She has a job offer in Montreal.”

  “That’ll make it tough, but hockey careers don’t last forever, and you can see her during the off-season.”

  “Which is short.”

  “Drew, do you love this woman or not? If you do, then you’ll find a way to make it work, just like your mom and I. Did you think it was easy for us with her coaching world-class figure skaters and me playing hockey and moving from team to team at the end of my career?”

  Drew was duly chastised. His father was right, and he usually hated when Stafford was right. Not this time.

  “You’ve never been much of a risk taker, Drew. The greatest rewards come from the greatest risks.”

  “I take risks,” Drew said defensively, but his father was right. He tended to follow the easy path and not cause waves. He’d been a fly-under-the-radar guy until his brother had died, and he was the only child left in his parents’ world.

  Stafford snorted. “Don’t take this a criticism, merely an observation. You don’t have the passion for hockey not like your brother or I did. Why are you playing? I’m damn sure it’s not for the money.”

  “You don’t think I’ve been playing with passion lately?”

  “Well, hell yeah, but who wouldn’t if they were playing in the Finals?”

  Usually by this stage in the conversation, Drew would either check out or argue with his father. This time, he did neither. Instead, he listened. Stafford wasn’t being an ass or tearing him down. He was trying to help, and Drew recognized the difference.

  “Drew, some of the most complicated problems have the simplest answers. Search your heart. You know what the right thing is for you.”

  “I will.”

  “All this deep thinking has given me a headache. I think I’ll find a couple of my buddies and get a drink.” Stafford stood and so did Drew, who held out his hand. Instead, his father wrapped him into his arms in a tight hug. For a moment, Drew stiffened, his hands rigid at his sides, then he hugged his father back. Hot tears stung his eyelids.

  “I love you, son.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  “Later, kid.” His father turned to walk away, and Drew called out to him.

  “Dad, I appreciate the words of wisdom.”

  His father saluted him and hurried to the door. Drew watched him go, the man’s words running through his head repeatedly.

  * * * *

  Marina arrived at the team hotel around two p.m., giving her plenty of time to catch a bite to eat. She hadn’t told Drew she’d be at the game. She wanted to surprise him. After she unpacked, she wandered downstairs to grab a bite to eat, hoping Izzy and the rest might be there and she could hang with them. They weren’t.

  Sighing, she took a table by herself and ordered a Caesar salad.

  “Imagine meeting you here.”

  Marina looked up and smiled welcomingly. The woman’s expression was carefully neutral, and Marina took that as good sign. After all, Drew loved his parents, and she was most likely going to be a part of their family.

  Yeah, she was. She wanted Drew any way she could get him. Even if they were both on opposite sides of North America and in two different countries. They’d have the summers, and eventually they’d find a way to end up in the same city.

  Cassandra pulled out the chair across from her and sat, not bothering to ask to be invited to join her.

  Marina didn’t want to have this conversation before Game 7, but it appeared she wasn’t going to get a choice. She sighed and found herself lacking patience.

  “Cassandra, let me save you some time. Whatever you’re going to say, I love Drew, and we’re both in this for forever. I hope we have your blessing.”

  The knowing smile on Cassandra’s face confused her. What was the woman up to?

  “I heard you accepted a job with Montreal?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Being a thousand miles apart puts a decided strain on a new relationship.”

  “I know.” Marina crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin defiantly.

  “I can help with that.”

  Marina’s mind churned with possible implications of that simple sentence.

  Cassandra’s Mona Lisa smile gave away nothing. “You’ve been good for Drew. You’ve helped him rediscover his enthusiasm for life. Stafford and I have been concerned this past year. Of course, now we realize we played a large part in his issues.”

  Marina didn’t know what to say so she kept her mouth shut and waited for the “but.”

  “Marina, I’ve done a lot of soul searching these past few months, as has Stafford. We made mistakes as parents, were too hard on Drew, but we love him and only want the best for him. It’s taken us a while to see the light, but that best is you.”

  “Thank you.” Marina couldn’t say any more than that without embarrassing herself by turning into a babbling fool.

  “With Ethan’s blessing, I’m offering you the job of assistant figure skating coach at the new facility.”

  “You—you’re what?” If she’d been speechless earlier, now she’d been stripped of her ability to form coherent sentences.

  “I’m offering you a position.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say yes. I warn you. I’m not easy to work with. I’m a task master. I expect things to be done my way to my exact specifications. I’ll demand everything you have and take nothing less.”

  “I’ve heard that about you.” A smile tug
ged at the corners of her mouth.

  “I’m sure you have firsthand experience.”

  “I do. I’d be honored to work with you to create a world-class figure skating facility in Seattle.”

  “It’s settled then. Can you start on Monday?”

  “Yes, I learned my basics from you, and there’s no one better.”

  “I know.”

  They both shared a laugh, and the puzzle pieces of Marina’s new life began to fall into place. Now to tell Drew.

  Chapter 27—Final Seconds

  Drew stepped off the bus for the final game of the season. Several of the Sockeyes faithful were present in their jerseys, holding signs and waving banners. Drew and his teammates stopped to sign autographs and thank their fans. Moments like this only came along once in a lifetime, and Drew intended to make the most of every minute of it.

  He’d learned a lot about himself during these playoffs.

  Initially, his driving factor had been to win the Cup, the one thing his father and brother had never done. Now he didn’t care so much about having one up on Stafford. As some point, winning had become about the team and community. They’d started this journey in Seattle four years ago with a new team, a new sport, in a new town. People had said Seattle would never be a hockey town, but they were. Sockeyes banners and fish logos occupied every nook and crevice of downtown Seattle, hung on every business’s door, and the Sockeyes flag flew from the Space Needle.

  The town was ready. Drew’s only regret was they wouldn’t be playing Game 7 in Seattle, but they could have one hell of a celebration there.

  But he was getting ahead of himself.

  Drew entered the locker room. Instead of boisterous celebration, the place was so quiet he started to back out the door for fear he’d walked into the wrong locker room. Even through all the concrete, he could hear the Penguins fans, but in here, no one was talking. They were quietly getting ready, performing any superstitious ritual they might have and trying to get in the zone.

  Drew sat and did everything the same way he did every time he got ready for a game. He was a little superstitious and always put on his gear in the same order. Tonight, he paid careful attention to following his routine.

  As he skated onto the ice for warm-ups, he swept his gaze past the seats on the glass. Ethan and Lauren were there, as was his father. Drew grinned at him, elated his dad had showed up. His mother sat next to him. He skated by them and tapped the glass with his stick. His father gave him a thumbs-up, and his mother beamed proudly.

  A few seats away, between Mina and Izzy, he caught sight of Marina, wearing his jersey. His grin grew broader. Everyone who mattered most to him was here. Except for one person. He raised his stick toward the ceiling of the arena, followed by his gaze. David was up there, watching and smiling, and telling him kick some Pittsburgh ass.

  He planned on doing just that, but first—

  He skated to the glass in front of Marina and put his palm against it. Marina raised her hand and pressed her palm in the exact same spot.

  “Go get ’em,” she mouthed, and he winked.

  Time for business. He skated away with strong, sure strides, feeling good about their chances. Coop and Smooth fell into step beside him as they skated four circuits around the arena in the pre-game ritual they’d started in Game 1.

  Drew had never been so ready in his life. He wanted this more than he’d wanted anything, except perhaps Marina. As much as he wanted the Cup, he wanted Marina more.

  They finished warm-ups and retreated to the locker room for their final instructions.

  Gorst and Coop stood in the middle of the room and took their time looking into the eyes of every man there. Drew stared back, making sure they knew he was all in.

  Coop cleared his throat and spoke in a level, controlled voice. “Guys, many of us were together during the Florida days when the Sleezers bled this team dry. We reluctantly—”

  The word reluctantly drew several snorts and snickers from the veterans on the squad. Coop had been beyond reluctant to move to Seattle. In fact, he’d been an asshole about it.

  “—reluctantly moved to Seattle. Over the past four years, Ethan, Lauren, and their staff have built a first-class organization, known for its innovative thinking and long-term commitment to their players long after their playing days are gone. Today, the Sockeyes released a statement to the press. They’re partnering with the Steelheads football team to fund a one-of-a-kind brain plasticity center at Tyee University’s medical school. The research in overcoming traumatic brain damage is something every one of us will benefit from. You’re probably wondering why I’m bringing this up when we’re about to play the biggest games of our lives? The Sockeyes organization believes in this team. They believe in the future. I believe in you guys. Just because they have a shit-ton of championships, don’t let them intimidate you. I don’t necessarily believe we’re the better team, but I do believe we want it more, and desire is the biggest part of a win like this. Let’s make Seattle proud.”

  The guys stood and cheered, tapping their sticks on the floor.

  Gorst stepped forward. “Gentlemen, you got yourselves here. You know what you’re doing. Nothing I say at this point will influence the outcome of this game. I only have a few words of advice: have fun out there, and bring the Cup home to Seattle.”

  More cheering and stick tapping as Smooth led the way out of the room. Brick filed out last, because goalies always go last.

  The game was beyond brutal. Smooth had to get his forehead stitched after a nasty scrape with a Pittsburgh defenseman’s stick. Ice took no prisoners and ended up in the penalty box after starting a bench-clearing brawl.

  Once the game was back under control, Gorst gathered them together for a speech that was one part lecture and three parts pep talk. The talk settled them. They entered the second period more under control, more focused, more determined. Drew had skated the entire first period wound too tight. He glanced at Marina, and she smiled and blew him a kiss. Suppressing a grin, he looked away, but a calm descended over him like a warm bath water. His tension drained away, leaving him loose and ready for whatever came next.

  The hard-fought, physical game came down to the last ten seconds. The game was tied two to two. The puck dropped, and the Penguins took it down the ice toward the net. Isaac barreled toward Crosby, who was about to laser one into the net. He stole the puck right from Crosby’s stick. He passed to Smooth, who powered down the ice and passed to an open Drew. Coop sped past the defenders who were attempting to stop Drew and skated toward the net. Drew saw a slight opening between players and shot the puck to Coop. The team captain slammed the puck toward the net as time ran out.

  Holding his stick across his body, Drew stared up at the scoreboard with the numbers reflected there. Numbers that meant everything in the world. The time left was 00:00. The scoreboard displayed what Drew dared believe.

  Penguins—2

  Sockeyes—3

  He stood there and soaked it all in. His teammates celebrated all around him. The small group of Sockeyes faithful went crazy, while the Penguins fans stared in shocked silence. Family poured onto the ice to join the celebration.

  Still, Drew didn’t move.

  God, he loved this game, but not enough to stay. He had no doubt where his future would take him.

  He knew in his gut what he’d known all year and never admitted to himself.

  He’d just played his last professional hockey game.

  * * * *

  Marina jumped up and down, screaming and hugging everyone in a Sockeyes jersey in the near vicinity, accidentally including one shell-shocked Penguins fan behind her.

  Izzy, Coop’s wife, was crying. Avery, Ice’s wife, was shouting at the top of her lungs. Stafford engulfed Marina in his big arms and hugged her hard, followed by Cassandra. The Sockeyes had done it. Through all the adversity, through all the injuries, through everything, they’d hung together and done it.

  Drew tapped on the glass in f
ront of her and motioned for them all to go to the gate. She pushed her way through the celebrating Sockeyes fans and dejected Penguins fans to get there. Security tried to hold her back until Drew reached out, grabbed her around the waist, and lifted her onto the ice. He put his hands on her shoulders, grinned at her, and bent down to kiss her. She kissed him back. Next thing she knew, he picked her up and carried her around. She giggled and begged him to put her down.

  “You should be carrying the Stanley Cup, not me.”

  “As sweet as that Cup is, you’re my prize, honey.”

  He lowered her to the ice, still holding one hand as they joined the crowd of teammates, staff, and family celebrating on the ice. The Cup was presented. Team pictures were taken. Coop skated around the arena first with the Cup high in the air. Coop passed it off to Ethan, who’d put on skates at some point and he, too, skated a circuit with the Cup.

  When Drew’s turn came, he raised the Cup over his head and headed straight for his father, grinning he held it out so Stafford could kiss it, then he made his circuit around the ice and gave it to Hot Rod.

  He skated back to Marina and hugged her close as they continued the celebration. Hours later, they were in the hotel banquet room with live music and an incredible buffet. As usual, Ethan spared no expense.

  Feeling mellow after a few beers, Drew sat back in his chair, his arm around Marina. His mother and father sat across from them.

  “I have an announcement,” Drew said.

  “First, Marina has something to tell you.” Cassandra winked at Marina, who smiled secretly.

  Drew narrowed his eyes.

  “Yeah, what?” He was intrigued, and his news could wait.

  “Your mother offered me a job with the new figure skating facility. I’m staying in Seattle.”

  Marina’s announcement brought another round of hugs and grins and well wishes.