She clicked on the roster and found Forward, Number 20. Benjamin Price. Ben. That was a nice name. It felt good to put a name with the face. And number. He looked like a Ben. Nice and solid and strong. Nice chocolate brown eyes you could stare into forever. Nice solid arms with tight rippling muscles. Nice strong, firm legs and thighs. She blinked herself back into reality. Oh, wait. This was reality. He was talking to her just a few hours ago!
Ally scrolled through his stats, which happened to be quite impressive compared to those of his teammates. Every article she came across praised his talent and success. They chronicled his career from the minor leagues to the present. His hometown was Denver, Colorado. He had played hockey in college before he was drafted by the Razors five years ago. He was 6’2” and weighed 195 lbs and was 27 years old. His whole life story was right there on the screen.
Then an awkward feeling unnerved Ally’s stomach. She felt strange looking up information on him online. That was part of the blessing and the curse of the internet. A person could do everything (well, almost everything), from the confines of their own home, without ever leaving or actually speaking to another human being. Just a few clicks and someone could find out just about anything about just about everything. And everyone. But now, Ally was feeling a bit like a creepy stalker. She wanted there to be some mystery left about him.
Right.
Because the odds of her running into a professional athlete at the dollar store were so high. Why was she kidding herself? She would never see him again. So what was the harm in reading about him? This information was public knowledge. It wasn’t like she was snooping around to find out whether he wore boxers or briefs. Good grief. She had to stop thinking about him in and out of clothes. She logged off her computer and paced her room instead.
Mid-step, she glanced over at the red nail polish on her dresser. Izzy‘s treat. ‘Stiletto Flame’ was printed on the bottle in silver letters.
Ah, what the hell.
Ally sat on her bed, steadied her hand and began painting her toe nails. It actually felt good. And that wasn’t the smell of the acetone. She hadn’t painted her nails in years. It had seemed like such a frivolity. But if this six dollar bottle of color could make her feel this good, then what was wrong with that?
She knew no one would see her toes, tucked away in her shoes with the rest of her love life, but she would know they were red.
Just as she was finishing painting her pinky toe, the phone rang. In the hopes of not waking Gram from her nap, Ally dove for the phone, careful not to smudge the nail polish. She managed to pick the phone up after just one ring.
“Hello,” she answered quietly.
It was Izzy and she had that “I need you to do me a favor” tone.
“I know I already dragged you into going to the Razors’ practice, but I wanted to see if you would like to go to their game tomorrow. Please don’t yell at me. One of my friends at the title company gave me tickets and they’re supposed to be really good seats.”
To Izzy’s surprise, Ally didn’t yell at her and she barely let her finish when she answered, “I’ll go.”
“What?” Izzy asked not believing her ears. “Huh?”
“I’ll go,” Ally repeated.
“I don’t have to beg or bargain?”
“Nope.”
“Wow, I didn’t even have to use my ‘It’s for charity‘ line. I had it all ready and everything.”
Ally smiled. “Well, you can be a charity case sometimes.”
Izzy continued, ignoring her friends comment. “The Razors are teaming up with celebrities to support charity. Oh, and they are playing the Illinois Warriors. They aren‘t the greatest team in the league, so we might actually have a chance at beating them tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.”
“Why the sudden change in attitude?”
Ally was careful not to mention anything about the Number 20. “Well, I might as well watch a game since I’ve already seen one of their practices. And if it’s not going to cost me anything, then I’m in.”
“That’s awesome!” Izzy rejoiced, then she remembered something. “What about Gram? I know you don’t like to leave her alone.” She knew this had all been too good to be true.
“All taken care of,” Ally said proudly. “It’s Ruby’s night to take her to play bingo.”
“Good,” Izzy said, still not believing her luck. “It’s a date then.”
Chapter Five
Game Day
Izzy arrived on Ally’s doorstep wearing a Red Valley Razor jersey with the team logo on the front, tight black jeans and heels.
Once inside, Izzy thrust a bag at Ally who was looking puzzled.
“I stopped by the Razors’ store and got you something to wear to the game tonight.”
“Thanks, but no thanks, Iz. I found a red tee shirt to wear so I should blend in.” She was proud of herself for attempting to look like a fan by wearing the team’s color.
“Trust me. This is ten times better. You are going to love it.”
Ally peered into the bag. It was a hockey jersey. She pulled it out of the bag, unfolded it and held it out in front of her. It was identical to Izzy’s with the Razor’s logo in front and the UNHL emblem at the neck. She turned it around and the number twenty stared back at her below the name Price in bold letters. She ran her finger over the embroidery of his name. Ally looked at her friend speechless.
Izzy shrugged. “I saw you talking to him yesterday and I didn’t know who else to get you.” At that, Ally held back a snicker. If only it was as easy as ’getting’ a hockey player at the gift shop.
Yes. I’ll take a team banner, two commemorative mugs and throw in Ben Price, the Number 20 while you’re at it.
“Izzy, this is really nice and it must have been expens--”
Izzy didn’t let her finish. “Don’t say it. Just say thank you and put it on.”
“Thank you. This is great.”
“See mine?” Izzy turned around to reveal Devereaux spelled out on her back above the number sixty-nine.
“Nice.” Of course Izzy’s favorite player would have the jersey number sixty-nine.
Ally slipped the red jersey over her head. The polyester felt cool and soft on her arms. It was a perfect fit over her tee shirt. Now she was an official hockey fan and she was officially ready to go to her first hockey game in her first official Red Valley Razors jersey.
* * *
The NorCal Center was the official home of the Red Valley Razors. It was a beautiful structure that boasted a sweeping high cathedral type entry with a grand staircase that led to the single concourse. It had sparkling terrazzo tile floors and was clean, sleek and modern. The building held 17,000 people, but game attendance for the Red Valley Razors was on the decline. The closer the Razors got to the end of the season and the more games they loss, the less people were showing their support and buying tickets to games. Still, the game versus the Illinois Warriors would be an exciting one. There was no such thing as a dull hockey game.
Ally knew she was nervous for no reason. It wasn’t like the Number 20 remembered her or that he could even see her among the thousands of other people seated in the stands. And seated they were. Izzy and Ally’s seats were incredible. They were in the front row with an unobstructed view, right behind the glass partition.
Before the game, several special guest attendees were announced. The “celebrities” that Izzy had tried to entice Ally with turned out to be the local weather man, owners of rival car dealerships and the reigning Red Valley beauty pageant queen. After all, Red Valley was a small town community for having a national hockey team. But Ally didn’t mind the lack of Hollywood’s finest. She was only there for one person and he didn’t have a star on the walk of fame. He had a number twenty on his back.
Finally, the time came for what everyone had been waiting for. The announcing of the players that made up the Red Valley Razors. After the overhead lights were dimmed down, a booming voice came over the speaker
s, echoing through the building. Swirling red and white spotlights illuminated the ice. A wave of excited anticipation passed through the Arena.
“Let’s here it for your Red Valley Razors!”
The crowd roared and the voice continued to announce the team roster.
“Your Captain, Number 12, Cody Lambert!”
Once again, cheers erupted as Cody took to the ice through a swirl of lights. The crowd chanted their nickname for Cody.
“CoLa! CoLa! CoLa!”
A few years ago, an announcer had performed a JLo maneuver on Cody’s name and it had stuck. Ally wondered if Ben had a nickname too. She had a few ideas of her own.
The announcer continued with, “Number 69 Dominic Devereaux!”
Izzy screamed as loud as she could but still couldn’t be heard over the roar of the other fans.
“Number 20, Benjamin Price!”
This time Ally hooped and hollered. With a quick side glance, she noticed Izzy giving her a quizzical look. Ally smiled and shrugged in return. She could hear the people around her yelling “Iceman! Iceman!” Turns out he did have a nickname. Ben always kept his cool on the ice, hence his moniker Price the Iceman.
The announcer named off the remainder of the team before finishing with, “Your Goaltender, Number 71, Alexandre Sebastien!”
“Sebby! Sebby! Sebby!” The crowd chanted the name they affectionately called the Razors’ goaltender. It seemed like everyone in the sport had a nickname of some sort.
“Please welcome the visiting Illinois Warriors!” Fans were less than enthusiastic when the opposing team was announced.
After the formalities, everyone was asked to stand for the singing of the national anthem. When the song was finished, the lights came back up and the players proceeded to warm up with shooting drills and stretching.
Groups of red and blue jerseys circled around on each end of the ice. Dressed in matching jerseys, all of the Red Valley players looked the same to Ally. But when she finally spotted the Number 20 on the back of one jersey, she warmed up inside. There he was. And there she was sitting in the front row at her very first hockey game.
Who would have thunk?
By the time the crowd settled back down again, the first period finally started. It was a flurry of activity as the players moved around the ice in waves. Sometimes in a graceful dance, sometimes frantic, chopping at the ice for a chance at the puck. Although the Razors remained scoreless in the first period, the game was a never ending whir of movement and excitement. The fluid movement of the players made it hard to keep track of the puck it was moving so fast. Despite his forty pounds of equipment, Sebby, the Razors goaltender moved effortlessly with the ebb and flow of the players taking care not to allow an opening or clear shot at the net. It was amazing that anyone could score on such a small four by six foot goal.
Ally thought hockey was the most exciting sport she had ever watched. And being seated in the front row wasn’t half bad either.
What a game!
It was a physical game and there was no shortage of hard hits, scuffles and minor altercations. Occasionally during the period, players banged into the Plexiglas divider shaking the glass, sending Ally to flinch. Ally looked over at Izzy and she grinned back at her. “Wow,” Ally mouthed. They had the best seats in the house for an awesome, unobstructed view of all of the action.
Once again, Ally scanned the players’ jerseys looking for magic number two-oh and finally found it. He was difficult to keep track of during the fast paced game. Between the players constantly moving around and changing lines on and off the bench, she could barely keep her head from spinning.
When she did manage to catch a glimpse of the Number 20 skating by, he looked serious and one hundred percent focused on the game in progress as he very well should have been.
Ally wished she could talk to him again and see that smile of his and look into his brown eyes. Oh, who was she kidding? Their paths were not destined to cross again. There couldn’t be two more opposite people in the world. Or could there be? That was the classic formula for love stories throughout the ages, wasn’t it?
Although she knew nothing would come of it, Ally still enjoyed watching him play. Her and Number 20’s thirty seconds together would be something she kept tucked away in the back of her mind for a long time to come. She would file it under ‘Things To Keep Me Going‘.
Two players slammed into the glass, abruptly bringing Ally back to reality.
It continued to be an exciting game well into the third period. Everyone’s attention was focused on the puck flying across the ice at high speeds. For a minute, Ally lost track of Ben and when she finally spotted him again, he had possession of the ever-elusive puck. He skated toward the net, took a full back swing and pulled the trigger on his slap shot. The puck hit the post then ricocheted into the corner sending the players scrambling for it. Ben caught up to the puck before anyone else had a chance to do anything with it and he hooked it away with his stick. He thought about shooting it, but instead passed it across the width of the ice to Cody.
“CoLa! CoLa! CoLa!” the Arena chanted in deafening unison.
Cody skated back towards the net but lost his footing when an opposing player from the Warriors speared him with his stick. After Cody fell down, the referee blew his whistle. A two minute minor penalty was called for hooking and the offending Warriors player went to the penalty box to serve his time. The fans cheered their approval as the Razors went on the power play with the man-advantage. This was the opportunity the home team needed to win the game.
Everyone watched a replay of the hooking displayed on the giant eight sided scoreboard.
On the Razors bench, J.D. Mason yelled, “Come on guys! We’ve got this.”
Now that the Warriors were shorthanded on the penalty kill, the heat was on. There was still enough time to score and turn the game into a dash in the win column. The Razors needed to score a goal before the Warriors defenseman shot out of the penalty box and the teams were back to even strength.
For the face-off, the linesman dropped the puck between two opposing players to resume play of the game. Ben’s teammate Patrik Levine gained control of the puck, whipped around and weaved his way through the frenzy and towards the net. Patrik saw an opening and shot the puck, but the Warrior’s goaltender caught it in his glove.
Unfortunately, the next face-off wasn’t to the Razors advantage. The Warriors took the puck dangerously close to Sebby and apprehension swept through the stands. Players in red jerseys scrambled to protect their net. A Warriors player stopped short in front of Sebby, sending a spray of ice shavings into the goaltender’s face. The crowd booed the Warriors. Fortunately for the Razors, nothing fazed Sebby. Whatever shenanigans his opponent tried to pull, he was not going to let that puck get by him.
But that wasn’t going to stop the Warriors from trying.
An attacking Warriors player skated behind the goal and with a wraparound tried to push the puck past Sebby and into the net. The shot hit the goaltender and bounced back into play for a rebound. In a breakaway, Ben managed to get by all of the defenders and skated in on the Warriors goalie alone. Excitement flooded back into the building and everyone held their breath. Using his wrist shot, Ben flicked his wrist and shot the puck off the blade of his stick and into the net.
Along with thousands of fans, Ally and Izzy jumped up out of their seats and cheered. Ally’s heart filled with pride.
The Razors had done it.
Back at even strength, the clock ticked down and the home team managed to hold on to their one goal lead. Twenty minutes after the third period started, the buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. In excitement of the victory, the crowd hoorayed and hurrahed. Fans chanted, “Sebby! Sebby! Sebby!” The goaltender had been stellar with his amazing saves during the course of the third period.
One the ice, the players proceeded with their post game winning ritual of bumping their helmets with Sebby and patting him on the head. The gesture w
as sort of sweet and not at all a reflection of how the game was played, but of the special bond between the players.
Now that the game was over, Ally was thoroughly exhausted. It had been the most excitement she had had for a very long time. Now she could fully understand why the fans and players lived and breathed the sport. It was an adrenaline rush. No parachute or bungee cord necessary. She knew she was going to get a good night sleep.
Chapter Six
Wedding Belles
“Who would have thought that you two would end up getting married?!” Ally exclaimed as she helped her best friend into the lacy, white gown. The train bunched up on the floor and it was so long their heels kept getting tangled in it. If that wasn’t bad enough, the dress sleeves puffed out and Izzy positively looked like a white taffeta cupcake.
The two shoppers were in a quirky bridal shop downtown. The walls were painted Pepto-Bismol pink and Ally swore she could hear Barry Manilow music coming from somewhere in the store.
Yep, it was definitely Barry Manilow. This had to be a dream.
“I know! Isn’t it wonderful?”
“Oh, Izzy, you look so pretty,” Ally said as she adjusted the lace veil. Between the tiered lace dress, lace gloves, lace veil, a long lace train, Ally thought she had died and gone to doily heaven.
Or hell.
Izzy had insisted on the laciest dress she could find. “If I’m going to get married, we’re gonna do this shit up right,” she exclaimed, lifting her arms in a grand gesture and dropping them back down at her sides. This cupcake was ready to take flight. “Nothing but high class for this bride,” she insisted.
“I still can’t believe you are getting married,” Ally wondered out loud. “Especially to the most eligible bachelor of the Red Valley Razors. Dom and Izzy. Isadora Devereaux.” It was a mouthful, but Izzy was a handful. The name was perfect for her.
“It does have a nice ring to it.” Izzy spun around admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror. “Mrs. Dominic Devereaux.”
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