by RJ Scott
“Do you think your bigger cap hits are effective players?” one guy asked from the back, and I held my breath. He was talking about Connor, Ten, Stan. How Connor deflected this was crucial and I held my breath.
“We’re sitting here after taking it to game seven in the championship finals, which we lost more to a twist of luck than bad work, and you ask us that question? Next?”
Then it was our turn, but they didn’t want to talk to the assistant coaches, they wanted to talk to Coach Benning. Blame him. Find fault in him and his team, and I hated that.
“Jared, a question for you? Your contract is due for renewal at the end of this season,” someone called from the back of the room. “Jared, rumors are that Vancouver is looking for a new defensive coach and have put feelers out to you. How do you see that playing out?”
That was news to me, and probably complete speculation on the part of whoever was asking, but the words knifed into me. Who knew where I would go? Ten was secure here, with a no-trade clause stipulating that he’d have to agree to a move before they could do that to him. But I didn’t have a contract like that. Management could turn around and tell me that I was no longer needed, or that I wasn’t the best fit for the team, even if they’d given no indication that I was going to be let go. A win here would have reinforced my methods for the defense as being good, but the loss was just as much a kick to my gut as to the players.
“I don’t see that playing out at all,” I lied.
Disappointment hung in the air, the room thick with it, the locker room was quiet, and even Adler was quiet, and that was a miracle. But, at least we were talking about the good bits, and I was sure we’d shake it off and refocus on next year. I hadn’t managed to hug Ten, or even talk to him directly yet, but when the door to my office opened and he slipped in, I pulled him close and held him for a long time.
“Well, shit,” he repeated my words, then slumped against my table, tugging me with him until I slotted between his legs. We stayed that way, hugging, and everything unspoken filled the room.
“Next year, Ten. Next year.”
“Next year. For sure.”
Breakdown day had been tough, collecting everything together to bring home, and commiserating in detail about what had gone wrong. It didn’t matter that Carolina had just lost two games in a row in the next round against a dominant Tampa Bay, because we’d collectively gotten to that point where things had begun to make sense. The Railers had played their hearts out, and they deserved to go deeper, but we’d take the summer and then come back strong and determined. The way the team rallied around me was heartwarming, and not one person mentioned the looming coach contract negotiations.
Not even Ten talked about it, but the thought of what might happen was there between us, and it was horrible.
The lethargy and unanswered questions lasted a full week when the question in the presser weighed on my mind. Only the daily reports from Isobel were enough to shift the quiet despair inside me about what the hell we’d do if I was heading to Vancouver. But it was Isobel and our child that was front and center in my thoughts. What was the point of having a child when I would be separated from them for months at a time? That wasn’t being a dad, and I’d already lived through that with Ryker. The regrets about some of the enforced absences I’d had from him were acid in my gut. By the time I was due to meet with management, I’d convinced myself that if they were thinking of removing me from the team, I would tell them to go fuck themselves, and enjoy the rest of my life being a dad.
Who needs to be an assistant coach of a topflight NHL team?
Me, I thought miserably as I sat outside the conference room with Coach and one of the other assistant coaches, Pike, along with a miserable-looking Gagnon. This was going to be hard, dissecting the year, talking players, and planning for the next year.
If I still have a job.
“You can all come in now,” the PA said from the door, his smile innocent enough.
I shook his hand and entered the lion’s den. Coaches at my level didn’t always have agents—I didn’t have one—but I wished I had someone here to hold my damn hand.
“Morning,” I said to all of them, taking inventory. The management consisted of five people, including the lawyer, and Owen Hargreaves, part-owner and GM of the team, stood and extended his hand to Coach.
“Next year,” he muttered as we shook hands, and then he bro-hugged us all which was kind of casual if I was going to be sacked.
“Yes, sir.”
“I want to close one thing down before we start, Jared, we want you for another three-year fixed contract, details to be discussed, are we good with that?”
Relief flooded me, another three years, with a team I loved, stable in Harrisburg, with Ten and our new baby? I wouldn’t have cared if they’d offered me fifty dollars and a lunch voucher. “Yes.” I didn’t have any other words.
“Good, good, take a seat, we have to talk about our defense.”
By the time I left the room I had a shiny new three-year contract, decisions had been made that left our core largely intact, and no indication that the management team didn’t have faith in Coach or the team. I called Ten as soon as I was at the car, but when I’d left the house this morning he’d been in the garage with the piles of boxes and it seemed he was still there as the call went to voicemail. How I kept to the speed limit when I drove home, I don’t know. I’d already been delayed after signing autographs at the arena gate and taking everyone’s comments about how wonderful the Railers were to heart, but all I wanted to do was tell Ten.
He was waiting for me outside the garage, pacing, grinning, waving at me to stop. Had he heard? Had the Railers announced my contract had been renewed? Wow, things moved fast. He leapt on me as soon as I climbed out of the car, but it wasn’t joy at my contract, it was something very different.
“The baby moved!” He danced with me around the car. “Our baby moved!”
His joy was infectious and I danced with him, ending up with a dip right there in front of a hundred boxes full of baby clothes. It was only after we’d kissed and hugged and danced some more with sheer glee did he pause to ask me about the meeting.
“They renewed my contract,” was all I could tell him, the rest, moves of players, the future, that was something I had to keep close to my chest for now.
“Of course they did,” Ten said with fierce loyalty, then kissed me hard. “Next year, Mr. Coach, we’re getting our baby christened in the Stanley Cup.”
“We are?”
Ten dragged me to the nearest box, pulled out a tiny brown and red onesie with a bird on it. “And guess who’s in the house?”
It took me a second to realize that Ten was holding a Raptors-branded jersey, which could only mean one thing.
“Ryker’s here!” I announced, and let Ten drag me into the house. This day was getting better and better.
We found Ryker in the kitchen cooking up a pan of bacon and making pancakes, Jacob sitting on the counter swinging his legs, and my heart expanded.
“Dad!” Ryker said and threw himself at me for a hug. The Raptors hadn’t made it any further in the cup run than we did, but the fact that the bottom-of-the-league team had done so well was partly due to my son. I couldn’t have been prouder.
“Ryker!” I motioned at Jacob as well, who slid off the counter and joined the hug, Tennant completing the circle.
“The baby moved!” Ten announced in the hug, which meant more hugs and congratulations. I hadn’t even had time to process the fact that our son or daughter was becoming more than a blur on a scan, but I wasn’t sure my heart could handle any more happiness.
News flew between us, Ryker’s mom was well, his sisters good, his stepdad happy, his grandfather still an asshole. The wedding planning was going as well as it could do, and yes he was pissed that the Raptors hadn’t made it any further in the cup run. Hockey connected us and it never failed to fill me with pride that Ryker was a star in his own right. It was only when the
food was done and we were slumped around the table that it occurred to me I’d never mentioned the contract.
“I have some news,” I said, when Ryker took a breath from telling us about Tate and Vlad and how much he loved Tate, and discussing with Ten about how Tate was an amazing skater and a good guy. “My contract with the Railers was renewed for three years.”
Ryker grinned. “Of course it was, Dad.” He didn’t sound as if he doubted it for one minute.
We ended up by the pool, sprawled on recliners in the warm summer sun, and Jacob was talking Arizona with Ten who kept smiling at me as if he couldn’t contain his excitement.
“I thought I’d messed up,” I murmured to Ryker, who must have sensed worry in my voice, because he rolled up on his chair and gave me his full attention.
“It’s okay, Dad. Some teams make it, some don’t,” Ryker said, and kept his voice low the same as me.
“Can we walk?” I asked, because some of what I had to say was just for my son. He was up on his feet in an instant, and we set off on a ramble around the large yard stopping by the trees and standing in the shade. We didn’t talk as we walked, and by the time we stopped my stomach was in knots.
“What’s wrong, Dad? Are you okay? Is it your heart?”
Oh shit, I’d worried Ryker without realizing it. “No, jeez, no, I’m fine. I wanted to talk to you about the baby.”
“Oh god, is there something wrong?”
I pressed a hand to his chest. “Stop freaking out,” I said and then sighed. “It’s nothing awful, just they asked me in the post-game presser whether I knew that Vancouver wanted me.”
“I saw that, but, Dad, Vancouver would be lucky to have you. Apart from Coach Carmichael you’re the best one out there.”
He was teasing me, and I fake-shoved him. “You know I’m better than any coach at the Craptors,” I groused.
“Whatever, old man.” Ryker winked.
We shoved each other again, and it went well until I got him in a hold and gave him a noogie. I knew damn well he could take me, but he’d let me have the dad thing I needed, and I loved him for it. I let him go, then leaned against the nearest tree watching him clamber up on the fence and perch there. He was so happy, with his hockey, with Jacob, and the fact that my boy was so at ease with himself, so confident and such a good friend to others was a testament to his mom. We might not have made our marriage work but Casey was a good mom.
“I wanted to apologize for not being around much when you were small.”
“Haven’t we already had this conversation,” Ryker deadpanned, “and didn’t we decide that I was fully cool with it, and that not only am I the best son ever, but you were an okay dad?”
“You said I was better than okay.”
Ryker snorted a laugh. “See, you do remember.”
I cleared my throat. “When that question hit me, I considered not being here for our new baby, and it hurt,” I pressed a hand to my chest and Ryker frowned momentarily. “It brought back all these memories of the things I missed with the one person I should have always been there for.”
“Do you remember my fifth birthday?” Ryker said after a short pause.
I wished I did remember all the details, but I would have only been in my early twenties, and I was still riding the high of being a professional hockey player. I wasn’t at home much, Casey and I were not happy, and everything was a mess.
“No,” I decided to be honest.
“We came to the rink, and I went out on the ice with the team, Mundy picked me up and carried me around on his shoulders, and we went so fast I thought we were flying.” Sven Amundsen, aka Mundy, was a six-foot-six defender and loved it when the kids were at the rink. “You know how many kids wanted to fly with Mundy? Then when I was six, you took me to Toronto for a game, and we went to the Hockey Hall of Fame, do you remember that?”
“That was your birthday?”
“You were always calling me, sending me stuff, I spent time with you in the holidays, I was happy, and so lucky, so can we not do this again?”
“Just as long as you know, that this baby, whether it’s a little boy or a girl, I will never love them any more than I love you.”
Ryker jumped from the fence then and hugged me with purpose.
“I can’t wait to have another brother or sister,” he said, and we held each other for a while. “Hey, did you see the tiny jersey I brought for the baby?”
I set him away from me and faked a grimace. “No baby of mine will wear a Raptors jersey.”
And Ryker, with a grin so wide it must have hurt, thumbed his chest. “Well, your first baby kinda already does.”
We walked back, pushing and shoving, to find Jacob floating lazily in the pool.
“Ten said to tell you he’s gone inside,” he called up, wincing as Ryker let out a whoop and cannonballed into the pool.
Ten being inside meant kisses, and hugs, and all kinds of interesting things.
The best kind of day.
Chapter Four
Ten
July
My stomach felt as if I’d swallowed live eels. Or slugs. Maybe someone had hexed me. Or maybe it was the fact that Jared and I were sharing a small yellow exam room with Eddie and an ultrasound technician while Isobel was stretched out on a table with her belly bared.
“Are you sure you’re down with us seeing your wife’s stomach?” I whispered to Eddie while the sonographer coated Isobel’s softly rounded belly with lube.
“If you’re in the delivery room with her you’ll probably see more than her belly,” he replied then gave me a brotherly hug when my face went blank.
My gaze flew to Isobel who giggled at my discomfort. It was funny how close the four of us had become in such a short amount of time. She was like the sister I’d never had but always wanted. Most days when we were kids I would’ve run a two-fer sale on Brady and Jamie for one sweet, loving, giggly sister. I doubted a sister would make me eat bugs, or put itching powder in my jockstrap, or duct tape my Pikachu stuffed snuggle buddy into a toy Army jeep and then push it into traffic just to see what happened. Poor Pikachu. He wore tires tracks on his face for years…
“I’m uhm…yeah, sure. Lady parts.” I slid closer to Jared who was fighting back a smile. “We’re going to have to talk about lady parts.” I’d never seen a woman’s nether regions up close and personal, being gay and all, I’d not been interested. Now, Jared on the other hand…
He patted my head. “We’ll have the talk when we get home.”
I rolled my eyes at the sniggers filling the sunny room. There were duckies on the wall and a graph of what a baby looked like in utero. That poster didn’t hold a candle to seeing the baby in person. Well, not really in person but as in person as we could get for now.
The sonographer described what she was seeing as she moved the wand around on Isobel’s stomach. We got to check out the heart, kidneys, brain, and spine. We counted fingers and toes. The heartbeat was strong, and the baby kicked and moved around endlessly, finally settling down at the end of the exam.
“Ah okay, maybe we can take a peek at the genitals, if you all want to know?” the technician asked, her blue eyes questioning. We all looked at each other but no one said a thing.
“Okay so, yeah, I definitely want to know,” I piped up. “But if you want to wait, Jared, we can wait.”
“Nope, I’m fine with knowing.” He took my hand.
“Okay then, let’s see what this baby is,” Isobel announced as Eddie lingered at her side, his fingers meshed with hers.
“Alrighty, let’s see what we can see,” the pleasant blonde with the magic wand replied. It took a minute or two, something about making sure she had a midline sagittal view, whatever that meant. “Okay, thank goodness this baby decided to stop disco dancing or we would have never gotten this incredible view of her caudal notch.”
“So it’s a…girl? You used ‘her,’” I asked, simply because I had no clue what the notch thing was she was talking about
. The sonographer nodded and smiled.
“It’s a girl,” she confirmed.
I turned to look at Jared. He was grinning ear-to-ear. “We’re having a baby girl,” I whispered then hugged him as hard as I could. Eddie leaned down to kiss Isobel on the cheek. “Oh my God, it’s a girl. We so have to tell the family when they get here tomorrow for the Fourth of July cookout. Oh! Hey, you two should come.” I turned to Isobel and Eddie as the technician took a few more pictures and checked fluid levels or something.
“We don’t want to intrude,” Isobel replied.
“Seriously, it is not an intrusion at all. You’re part of the family now. An honorary Rowe. My parents are dying to meet you, and so are my brothers and their wives. There will be like six kids… I think there’s six now. So your boys will have kids to play with. Come over, please. This way you can rest and let someone else cook and clean up,” I said with a wink.
“Okay, you sold me with the no cooking and cleaning up.” Isobel laughed.
“Sounds good to me. I’d love to meet Jamie and Brady, I think I have a puck from the last Rebels/Railers game,” Eddie gushed.
“Bring it, Brady’ll sign it,” I said then leaned into Jared, my arm around his waist as we watched our daughter sleeping safe and sound. “We’re going to have a daughter,” I whispered once more to Jared.
He pressed his lips to my cheek and held me tightly to his side.
The great name debate would now begin. Good thing we had four more months. We’d need it for sure.
The following day the Rowe family blew into town. My parents arrived first because Dad always had to be early, no matter what. Going to the movies? Get there forty-five minutes early in case they sell out and/or so he could get a certain seat. Drove Mom nuts. So, they showed up on an early flight and Jared and I picked them up at the airport. Then, around noon, Jamie and his Lisa arrived with their two kids, and a few hours later Brady and his Lisa, Lisa number one, pulled up with their four kids and an aging lab named Bourque.