Home Ice

by Rachelle Vaughn

  A minute later, Ally came down the hall and found Ben studying the framed portraits on the mantle. Most were photos of Izzy and Ally together and the rest were of Gram and the girls and Ally’s old school photos.

  “Oh good, Ben, it’s you.” Stopping mid-step, Ally ogled his debonair appearance. She was still caught of guard when she saw him dressed up before a game. The suit and tie was in contrast to his usual casual jeans and tee shirt or padded uniform, but he always managed to look handsome in either one. He could have made polyester look good if he wanted to.

  Ben took her in his arms in a bear hug. “Are you going to be able to make it to the game tonight?”

  She looked up at him, her eyes holding her apology. “I’m so sorry, buy I’m not going to make it.”

  “That’s okay. I totally understand.”

  Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. She looked tired. And drained. “Gram’s not feeling well.”

  “How is she doing?” his eyes softened with concern. “Is everything all right?”

  Ally lowered her voice as not to be heard by Gram in the other room. “She’s not doing very well at all, Ben. She’s getting weaker and her spirits are down.” Ally’s shoulders slumped. The weight of the world was on them.

  Ben put his arm around her protectively. “What can I do? Do you need help taking her to the hospital? I still have some time before I have to be at the rink.”

  “She won’t go. She says the doctors will just poke and prod at her and she wants to be left alone.” Ally shook her head as if to get rid of the thought of Gram in the hospital again. “What do you have there?” She was glad for the diversion and pointed to the gift bag Ben was holding.

  “I come bearing gifts.” He thrust the bag at her that was as big as his grin.

  “You can bare your gifts here anytime,” Izzy proclaimed from inside the kitchen.

  “Jeez, Iz! Give us a minute, will ya?” Ally shooed Izzy out of earshot and into the other room.

  Ben had asked Cody’s wife Laina to help him pick out a birthday gift for Gram. They had decided on a luxurious cashmere sweater he knew she would love and a new jigsaw puzzle to add to her collection.

  “Oh, Ben, that’s so thoughtful of you. And on game day, too. I know you have other things on your mind besides us.”

  He shrugged. “I can still manage to set aside some time for my girls.”

  What on earth had she done to deserve a man like Ben?

  She looked at the puzzle in the gift bag. It was a serene landscape featuring a lighthouse sitting on a wind-blown cliff. “Oooh, pretty. We don’t have this one.”

  “Oh, good. I wasn’t sure. She has so many.”

  “It’s perfect. I still can’t believe you stopped by on your way to the biggest game of the season.”

  “And I can’t believe you still don’t understand how important you are to me.”

  “Thank you for everything.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need help with Gram?”

  “I’m sure. We’ll just stick it out here and see if she feels better in the morning. You’d better get going. I don’t want you to be late to your important game because of us.”

  “Fine. I’ll go. It’s obvious you want to get rid of me,” he sulked playfully.

  “I love you,” she said seriously. “Good luck tonight. And be careful,” she added like a mother hen.

  She gave him a peck on the lips, but that wasn’t enough for him. Yeah, it was his most important game of the year, but he wasn‘t leaving without doing one thing. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. He put his arms around her waist, pulled her close and kissed her long and hard.

  “Now, that’s better,” he said satisfied.

  “Come back to me in one piece. Leave the fights to Dom,” she outpoured her concern for his safety. Whenever she saw him take a hit on the ice, her heart stopped until she saw him get back up again. “We’ll be watching you on TV.”

  “I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow. I can stop by after I get up in the morning.”

  “Okay. I love you, too. Be careful,” she emphasized the last two words.

  After Ben left, Ally went into the kitchen to make Gram some tea. Tea would make everything better. Meanwhile, Izzy flipped around the TV channels and found where the game would be broadcasted before announcing, “We’ve got ten minutes before the game starts.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in there in a minute.” Ally dunked a tea bag into Gram’s favorite mug.

  “I’ll be right back. I have to pee,” Izzy yelled and went down the hall.

  Ally ignored her and stirred a squirt of honey into the tea.

  A minute later Izzy cried out from down the hall and Ally dropped the spoon on the counter. “Ally come quick! Something is wrong with Gram!”

  * * *

  Ben pulled his truck into the arena players’ parking garage and parked in the same spot that he always did. He wasn’t overly superstitious like some of his teammates, but he liked a nice, solid routine. It helped him stay focused and make it easier to get into the zone. He went through the doors of the player’s entrance and strode down the red and white painted hallway in the direction of the players lounge and locker room. He passed under the motivational saying printed above the doorway in bold white letters.

  TEAM, UNITY, DISCIPLINE, VICTORY.

  Going into the lounge, he said hello to some of the guys in the players’ lounge and then went into the players’ personal locker room to change out of his suit before going into the actual team locker room. The personal locker room was where the guys kept their personal belongings such as their wallets, keys and cell phones. No reporters allowed.

  After changing, Ben went into the team locker room to organize his equipment. Checking over his skates, he inspected the blades and laces. Next, he put on his gear which included an array of safety gear. Protective gloves, shin guards, elbow pads, shoulder pads, pants, padded shorts and helmet. Then, he taped his sticks as the other guys heckled each other.

  The players sat at their respective stalls around the locker room. Some went through the motions of their pre-game rituals and others quietly battled invisible butterflies in their stomachs. Everyone had their own rituals before games but no one talked about what they were. It was sort of an unspoken code among players. They were a band of brothers preparing for war out on the ice. Superstitions were just a normal part of the sport.

  Defenseman Patrik Levine was in charge of the locker room music and had chosen AC/DC’s Highway to Hell. The song seemed oddly fitting for the occasion. Thinking about their competition, an uneasy feeling sat in Ben’s gut.

  Ben wasn’t the only one who was uneasy. The entire team was nervous with anticipation and couldn’t wait to take to the ice to battle it out with one of their fiercest rivals the Las Vegas Greenbacks. The Greenbacks were the envy of the UNHL. Putting aside their skill and fierceness on the ice, who wouldn’t want to live in Las Vegas and play hockey for a living?

  “Is Ally coming tonight?” Cody asked Ben.

  “No. Her grandma isn’t feeling well.”

  “That’s too bad, Benny.”

  “Hey,” Patrik Levine said from the next stall over from Cody. “Remember when Laina first came to a game to see you play? You were puking your guts out, you were so nervous.”

  “Hey, I had a bad burrito!” Cody threw a roll of tape at Patrik and laced up his skates.

  Ben smiled at the memory and looked up from his sticks in time to see his agent, Jerrold King walking towards him. Jerrold had played in both the UNHL and the minors, so Ben could easily relate to him. It was a plus working with a former player as his agent. Ben had worked with Jerrold for several years and he liked the personal attention he received with him.

  Not unlike the stereotype, Jerrold looked and acted like someone out of the movie Jerry McGuire. He was arrogant and blunt at times, but he had taken good care of Ben over the years. Jerrold was tentative to Ben and he knew he had his best interests in mind. And that mat
tered the most when it came to having an agent.

  Today, Jerrold was impeccably dressed from his expensive silk tie to his designer Italian shoes. Jerrold King, sports agent with wardrobe flair.

  “Jerrold. It’s good to see you.” Ben stood up to shake his hand.

  “I just wanted to come in and wish you luck before the game starts.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need anything before I head on up to the box?”

  “Nah, I’m good. Thanks for coming.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Ben. Good luck out there.”

  Jerrold left the locker room and Ben finished up a few pre-game interviews. Interviews weren’t his favorite thing in the world, but they were necessary. The reporters usually asked a lot of repetitive questions and it got old sometimes. They always probed for information he couldn’t give. Well, maybe if he had a crystal ball, he could tell them what they wanted to hear.

  * * *

  The NorCal Center was packed with dedicated fans cheering their team on in one last hurrah. Their screams brought the building to life and it pulsed with their excitement. After the players skated onto the rink, it looked like Christmas on ice. Red and green jerseys whizzed by each other in true holiday colors even though it was only mid-March.

  Even though the Razors had the home ice advantage, the Greenbacks dominated early in the game. They had strong players who had no problem driving the puck deep into the Razors’ zone. By the end of first period, the Greenbacks had a 2-1 lead. Cody Lambert, the team’s soft spoken leader had scored and finally put the Razors on the scoreboard.

  The ice was fresh and smooth after a once over by the Zamboni in between periods. When Ben took to the ice after the first intermission he was determined to help his team take the lead. He wasn’t about to have his ass handed to him by this cocky, young team from the desert.

  At the face-off circle, J.D. Mason swatted his stick for control of the puck. He won the face-off for the Razors and took off towards the goal at the other end of the rink. A Las Vegas defenseman thought otherwise and slammed J.D. against the glass, but not before J.D. quickly passed the puck to Ben. The Vegas goaltender swiveled back and forth in front of the net trying to create a human barrier.

  Ben blocked out all noise, except for the sound of his own breathing and the sound of his skate blades slicing through the ice. He focused on the puck and where his teammates were on the ice around him. Then, using a maneuver he had practiced hundreds of times, he swerved around an opposing player and smacked the puck through another players skates and into the goal.

  Cheers erupted from the crowd and he raised his arms and pumped his fists into the air before joining his teammates in a group hug. All of his teammates on the bench stood up and Ben skated by them to high-five their outstretched gloves.

  Ben was ecstatic from scoring the tying goal. Now, if only their luck would hold out into the third period.

  After the face-off, Las Vegas regained control of the puck. Like a bullet, the Greenback’s powerhouse, Aleksi Nikkola broke away and took off towards Sebby, the Razors goaltender. Dom spun around in the direction of the puck. He wasn’t far behind Nikkola, vying for the opportunity to clear the puck out of their zone. Nikkola raced passed the center line and pulled the trigger, shooting the puck a hundred miles per hour at Sebby. Sebby squared himself against Nikkola and splayed his body out to block the incoming puck. Somehow, the puck zipped through and found its way between Sebby’s legs and into the net. Boos echoed in the building as the Greenbacks celebrated their goal.

  Nervously, Ben chewed on his mouth guard as he waited for his shift on the ice. He looked up at the JumboTron scoreboard with dread. The score was 3-2 and there were five minutes left in the period. They were getting down to the wire. If the Razors didn’t score in the third period, it would all be over. The game, the season and their hopes of making it to the playoffs.

  Unfortunately, someone had told the Greenbacks the same thing. And the Las Vegas team had their own agenda.

  Combativeness rose in the last few minutes of the period as the Greenbacks weren’t budging. Tensions were high and players clustered against the boards fighting for control of the puck. The puck bounced off Ben’s glove and into the corner. He reached over and swiped the puck away and shot the puck towards the net, but the goaltender promptly flicked it away. Ben caught the rebound and sent the puck ahead to Dom. The next thing he knew, Ben was blinded by a green jersey knocking him down full force from behind. Ben crashed down to the ice in a heap of limbs and gear. The collision knocked the wind out of him and he struggled to get air back into his lungs.

  After getting his bearings, he finally sucked in a breath. Ben’s chest heaved and his lungs burned with each breath he took. Sweat trickled down his face and into his eyes and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.

  The referee blew his whistle and called a penalty for the illegal hit on Ben. Ignoring the whistle, Dom took off after Aleksi Nikkola, the player who had knocked Ben down. It was payback time. Dom was determined to settle things his way, referee be damned. Nikkola belonged in the penalty box, but not before Dom had his way with the dirty player first. His fists were itching for some action. The penalty box could wait.

  Dom locked eyes with Nikkola and skated full force to where he was on the ice. Dom sized him up and spouted a few choice words his way, engaging his opponent.

  “Oh, deed I knock down yer pritty boy?” Nikkola spat out the words, laced with his Finnish accent. That was all it took to get Dom fired up. This guy was going down.

  “Nobody takes down my boy and gets away with it,” Dom growled in response.

  “Do ye have de moves ta back dat up?”

  “The only move I need is the one to shut up that hole in your face.”

  Dom yanked off his helmet and threw his gloves down. Nikkola did the same. They circled around each other in a sort of fighting dance. The crowd went wild, cheering them on. Everybody loved a good hockey fight and Dom rarely disappointed. They grabbed hold of each other’s jerseys, swinging punches at each other in an impromptu boxing match. All of the players on the bench responded by banging their sticks on the boards in front of them. Dom got in a few good punches to Mr. Finland’s lip, make that fat lip, and Nikkola answered him with a left hook to the nose before the referees finally broke up the fight.

  Dom glided over to the bench with blood dripping from his nose. The metallic taste of his own blood fresh in his mouth. He looked down at the blood on his knuckles and grinned. Jesus, he loved this game.

  The team’s Head Athletic Trainer saw to his wounds before Dom went for his stint in the penalty box for fighting.

  Little did he know, the Trainer’s night was far from over.

  * * *

  Gram took a turn for the worse before the first period of the game even started and sent the three women on a trip to the hospital. Apparently, according to the doctors, Gram had a bad reaction to her new blood pressure medication. Her age and already failing health didn’t help matters. It wasn’t serious, the doctor reassured Ally, Gram just needed rest. And Gram was doing just that in the hospital bed. While Ally was waiting for the release papers, she went into the waiting room to find a television.

  She found the SportsCenter channel and waited for an update on the game. She was torn by guilt and responsibility. She should have been there in person to see Ben’s big game and now she hadn’t even been able to watch it on television. The game was so important to him, she wondered how it had gone since she couldn’t be there to see it. Finally, after a round of annoying commercials the anchor came on the screen. He showed highlights from some other games in the league and finally got to the story Ally was waiting for.

  “One of the Red Valley Razors was taken to the hospital tonight after a hard hit during the third period. He suffered from a concussion and an upper body injury. We’ll have more details when we return.”

  Ally’s heart sank. She felt like someone had poured a pitcher of ice water into
her veins.

  This can’t be happening.

  How much bad news could one person endure in a single night?

  She had to believe that Ben was okay. It couldn’t be him.

  As fast as her fingers would let her, Ally dug her cell phone out of her purse and dialed Ben’s number. After what felt like fifty rings, when in reality it was only three, he answered. She had never been so happy to hear his voice in her life.

  “Ben, it’s me. Are you okay? Is everything all right? Tell me you’re okay,” she shot out a succession of questions before he even had a chance to answer.

  “Hey baby. Slow down. I’m fine. What’s going on?”

  “I saw the news and they didn’t say who was hurt, but I thought…” she trailed off as the tears came burning past her eyes and down her cheeks.

  “It was Cody. He has a concussion and a broken wrist,” Ben stated calmly.

  “Laina and the kids…?” She tried not to let herself imagine what Laina must me going through. She must be a wreck from seeing her husband take a hit like that. Oh God, she had thought it was Ben.

  “They’re okay and Cody’s gonna be fine. He’s got all summer to recuperate now.” Now that there would be no playoffs. The Razor’s season was officially over. Sebby made some great saves, but it wasn’t enough to pull ahead of the Greenbacks.

  “Are you sure you aren’t hurt?” She refused to believe him until he was holding her in his arms.

  “Ally, I’m fine.”

  “What happened?”

  “Aleksi Nikkola is what happened.” There was raw anger in his voice. He was still coming down from his adrenaline high during the game. “The guy just cold-cocked him.”

  She knew she had heard that name before. But where?

  “Who’s that? And why does his name sound familiar?” She pondered the name. Aleksi Nikkola. “He’s the one who gave you that scar on your leg, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. He’s just a dirty player. Dom took care of him, though. Once for me and then again in the third period for Cody. That guy is gonna be unrecognizable.” Ben chuckled to himself. The guys on the team had joked in the past about the Dom Devereaux Hat Trick, which consisted of three fights and three penalties during a single game.