Hockey Holidays

by Toni Aleo

  And that was one of the reasons Erik had never considered a pet. An overnight trip wasn’t a big deal, but what about when he played on the west coast and was gone a week? It happened too often during the season for a kennel to be a good option.

  “I think Peanut really likes everybody,” she said, trying to buy herself a little more time to think. Being sucked back into Erik’s life probably wasn’t great for her emotional health, but saying no to him wasn’t easy. Add one adorable stray dog and it was damn near impossible. “But you can drop her off here and she can hang out, and then I’ll take her home with me.”

  “You don’t want to stay at my place?”

  It would probably be easier. All of Peanut’s many belongings were there. But she didn’t want to slide back into the same relationship they’d had before. It would be so easy, until it wasn’t.

  “I’ll take her to my place,” she said, firmly. But then she gave just a little. “But I’ll bring her home before you get there and wait for you.”

  “Something to look forward to,” he said in a husky voice that left no doubt what exactly he was looking forward to.

  Andie was busy when Erik dropped Peanut off, helping Chelsea with a dog who decided a glass Christmas tree ornament would be a good snack, so she didn’t get a kiss goodbye. Just a text message telling her he couldn’t wait for her but he’d call her later and see her the next day.

  When she was finally free for a few minutes, she got Peanut out of the kennel and took her for a short walk. The little dog was thrilled to see her, but Andie happened to be looking at her when Peanut heard a group of little girls laughing. After a second, the dog appeared to sigh and then kept walking, but with a little less pep in her step.

  She needed to dig a little deeper into lost dog reports, Andie thought. Maybe look statewide or beyond, and reach out to some people who might be able to help her. If Peanut had a family looking for her, the sooner they were reunited, the better. For Peanut and for Erik. He was getting attached to the tiny dog.

  And she’d do well not to get too attached, either, she reminded herself. To the dog or the man.

  Erik pulled into his driveway in probably the best mood he’d ever been in after a rough loss. His body ached and the post-game media questions had been brutal, but Andie’s car in front of his garage, which meant she and Peanut were waiting inside for him.

  As soon as he opened the door, he heard the clicking of Peanut’s nails as she ran across the polished hardwood and the sound made him grin in anticipation. He knelt down to scoop her into his arms and accept the frantic licking she welcomed him home with. Then he carried her through the ground floor, looking for Andie.

  He found her in the small sitting room at the back of the house. It wasn’t a room he spent a lot of time in, but she’d always liked it. Small and cozy, with furniture more about comfort than looks and big windows, she’d loved to curl up with a book when he was busy.

  “Welcome home,” she said, setting the book she’d been reading on the side table.

  The words, simple as they were, warmed his soul. He could easily get used to this. Sitting in the loveseat that faced her chair, he settled Peanut on his lap, expecting her to curl up and fall asleep. Instead, she sat on his thigh and gazed up at him adoringly.

  Yeah, he could definitely get used to this.

  “It’s good to be home.” He could see the indecision on her face—to bring up the game or not to bring up the game—so he nodded toward the empty cushion next to him. “It would be better if you were sitting over here with me, though.”

  Andie uncurled her legs and stood, and they both chuckled when Peanut’s tail wagged in anticipation. And when Andie was settled against him, stroking the dog while she leaned her head against his shoulder, Erik would swear his heart sighed. It was corny, he thought, but that’s what it felt like.

  He picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. There was a west coast game on and he paused, knowing if he was alone, he’d toss the remote down and watch it. But then he kept surfing until he found repeats of an old sit-com they both liked.

  “Did you have any problems with her while I was gone?” he asked, stroking Peanut’s ear.

  “None at all. She spent the day at the clinic being utterly spoiled by the entire staff. Then she went home with me and we watched a movie before she curled up in my bed. I’m still not sure how such a tiny dog ends up with half the bed and most of the covers, but she’s cute, so she gets away with it.”

  Erik laughed. “I’ve been trying to teach her to sleep in her little dog bed, but she cries and I’m a sucker.”

  “I would say you’ve spoiled her, but I have a feeling she was the princess of the house before she managed to get herself lost.”

  He didn’t like to think about Peanut being lost, in no small part because it made him think about somebody out there looking for her. Remembering she wasn’t really his dog wasn’t something he cared to dwell on.

  The show caught their attention for a few minutes and they laughed together at the on-screen antics. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket and he knew before he pulled it out that he’d see his father’s name on the screen. And he could tell Andie knew it, too, because she tensed a little and then started to pull away. This was the part where she’d be left to watch TV or read a book while he spent at least an hour on the phone, dissecting his game with his dad.

  He used the arm around her shoulders to pull her back into his embrace while he used his other hand to decline the call. Then he powered the phone down and tossed it on the side table. He knew what mistakes he’d made. He knew the Marauders’ weaknesses. And there was plenty of time to rehash every move he’d made on the ice.

  Tonight, he had the woman he loved next to him and if he was going to keep her there, he had to make these moments count. He needed to prove to her that there was room in his life for hockey and her.

  As Andie snuggled against his side again, a small smile curving her mouth, Peanut snuffled and licked his hand once before going to back to sleep.

  And the dog, too, he thought. There was room for more than the game in his life.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning at the office, Andie hung up the phone and dropped her face into her hands. A family was getting the best Christmas gift ever—their beloved family pet had been found, cared for by a softhearted hockey player and would be coming home happy and healthy just in time for the holiday.

  She had to tell Erik. As much as she didn’t think he fully understood yet the time and care a dog required, he’d gotten attached to Peanut and it wasn’t going to be easy for him to let her go. Her duty was to her patient, though, and not the human she’d attached herself to. And it was in Peanut’s best interest to be returned to the family who loved and was desperately missing her.

  Time wasn’t going to make it any easier, so she punched in his number—though she remembered it, she refused to put him back in her contacts—and waited for his voice mail message to kick in.

  “Hello?” His voice surprised her to the point of being speechless. “Andie? Are you there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here.” She cleared her throat. “I wasn’t expecting you to pick up, so it took me off guard.”

  “I’m waiting to see the physical therapist, which means I’m not actually doing anything except wasting time I could be on the ice.”

  The way he raised his voice toward the end signaled his words were for the benefit of somebody within earshot, rather than her. “So you’ve got a minute?”

  “Yeah. I have all the minutes you need since they can sit and wait for me as long as I’ve been sitting here waiting for them.”

  His impatience for anything—or anybody—that kept him off the ice was clear in his voice and she hated to add to his bad mood, but she didn’t have a choice. “I was calling to tell you we found Peanut’s family.”

  The silence went on so long, Andie found herself wishing she’d told him in person so she could hold his hand
or give him a hug or something.

  “Okay,” he said finally. “Were they looking for her?”

  “Yes. The parents don’t really do a lot online and the kids are young enough so they’re not really into the social media thing, so they were looking the old-fashioned way. Posters. Calling shelters. Stuff like that. But they really were looking for her. They were visiting family and somebody left the door open and it was a while before the kids realized she was missing.”

  “Kids.” He said the word in a flat voice and she knew what that meant. He might have been tempted to fight for Peanut, but taking a dog away from children wasn’t something he could bring himself to do. “Did you let them know I found her?”

  “Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.” She paused, kicking herself again for doing this over the phone. “If it’s easier for you, you can bring her to the clinic and then her family can come pick her up there.”

  “She whimpers when she thinks I’m going to leave her alone. It’ll be easier to leave her if she’s getting loved on by her kids. Know what I mean?” He cleared his throat harshly, and her heart broke a little more for him. “Will you go with me? To drop her off, I mean.”

  “Of course,” she said without thinking. He needed somebody and she didn’t think he’d ask anybody else.

  “I should be out of here in a couple hours, so find out what time works for them and let me know.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry, Erik.”

  “She’ll be happier with her family,” he said roughly. “And I can focus on my game instead of worrying about her.”

  After they hung up, Andie leaned back in her chair with a sigh. Of course he would hide his emotions behind the veil of the game. That’s what he did. He kept his emotions at bay by hiding behind hockey. And when emotions did get in and get messy, he did more hiding behind the hockey. It always circled back to the ice with Erik.

  And she would do well to remember that.

  It worked out his house was between the clinic and Peanut’s real house, so she drove that far instead of him driving in circles. Traffic was a bitch, though, so he was in the car and ready to go when she arrived, and she had to pick Peanut up from her spot in the shotgun seat in order to get in. Once the little dog was curled on her lap, Andie looked at the stuff in the back seat. Everything he’d bought for the dog was piled there, and there was a lot of it.

  She’d already sent him the address by text message and he had it punched into his navigation system. It was almost an hour to where Peanut belonged, and they spent most of it in silence masked by the radio. Every time Erik reached over to stroke the dog, Andie’s heart broke a little bit more.

  Luckily, the family was too busy fussing over Peanut—whose real name was Cookie—to recognize Erik, who hid his grief by making multiple trips from the car with the dog’s belongings. He refused to accept any money from Peanut’s owner, and then it was time to say goodbye. When Peanut licked Erik’s hand, Andie’s eyes burned and she was afraid the dog would try to jump into his arms, but after that last gesture of thanks, the little dog ran back to the little girls she clearly loved.

  The ride back to Erik’s house was even more oppressive, and she noticed he had the radio on a rock station instead of something playing holiday music. Since he loved Christmas songs, it was a pretty good indicator of how bad his mood was.

  She went inside with him, even though he wasn’t the best company at the moment. In her experience, it was the times people were bad company that they needed company the most. Especially people like Erik, who weren’t really good at expressing emotions.

  He paused in the kitchen and looked around before sighing, and she knew the house probably felt empty and quiet to him. Peanut hadn’t been very big size-wise, but she’d brought a lot of heart into the home.

  “You saved her,” Andie said quietly, standing next to him at the kitchen island. “And now she’s back with a family who loves her very much, thanks to you.”

  “My business manager’s going to look into funding medical expenses for dogs who don’t have any people, like you were talking about. And when I retire and don’t have to go out on the road anymore, I’m going to go to the shelter and find another dog who’ll love me like Peanut did.” Then he shrugged one shoulder. “Although, you were probably right. Peanut loves everybody.”

  “No.” She put her hand on his arm. “Peanut likes everybody, but she loved you. You were her champion.”

  “And everybody loves a champion.”

  She started to smile, but the bitter undertone made her look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What?” He shook his head as if he hadn’t even heard himself speak. “Nothing.”

  Everybody loves a champion. Andie had spent just enough time with Lamont Burke to guess those weren’t Erik’s words. They were his father’s. He’d always been his son’s number one fan and Erik always credited his father for his success, but she wondered if either of them recognized the damage it had done.

  Erik’s value was tied to his success at hockey. In his mind, at least. And seemingly his father’s mind, as well.

  “So you’re off for the holidays now, right?” she asked, hoping to change the subject to something a little more cheerful.

  “Yeah, we have a few days with no games, but I wouldn’t say I’m off, exactly.”

  “When are you ever?” She tried to keep the sorrow and regret at the truth of his life out of her voice, but she didn’t think she succeeded very well.

  “On top of the regular games, we’ve got the Winter Classic right around the corner, and then the All-Star Game.” He shook his head. “I’ll be spending most of the holidays watching film with my dad.”

  Everything in Erik’s kitchen was digital, and yet Andie imagined seconds ticking on an old-fashioned clock as the silence stretched on. She didn’t want to say anything rash when he was already emotionally vulnerable. Hell, she wasn’t sure what she could say, anyway. It’s not as if she hadn’t known going in that hockey was, and always would be, his first love.

  “I should go,” she finally said in a soft voice. “I have a lot on my plate and you obviously have games to prepare for.”

  “Seeing the family for Christmas?” At least he sounded mildly interested.

  “Not this year. Chelsea wants to fly home, so I’ll be spending more time than usual at the clinic.” She forced herself to smile. “I need to rest and wrap presents when I get the chance.”

  Erik scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m probably not great company right now, anyway. And I’m supposed to go to Kristen’s tomorrow to have dinner with her and Cross or something after I stop at my dad’s, so I should get some rest.”

  He kissed her goodbye, holding her close and promising to talk to her soon, but as she backed her car out of his driveway, Andie couldn’t help wondering if it would be for the last time. She’d missed him for the last year, sometimes so much she cried herself to sleep, but she still wasn’t ready to come second to his job, no matter what his job was.

  Lamont Burke lived in a very nice condo by the beach on the South Shore, close enough to stop by Erik’s when he felt the need, but just far enough away so he always called first. It had cost enough to have Erik’s financial manager popping antacids, but Erik had told him he couldn’t put a price on what his father had done for him over the course of his career.

  For the first time, though, walking into his dad’s house on Christmas Eve made Erik vaguely uncomfortable. It wasn’t a home. It was a shrine to the career of Erik Burke of the Boston Marauders.

  Maybe it was having been in Kristen’s house earlier in the week. There were pictures of Cross on the ice, of course. Hoisting the Cup. But there were also pictures of their families. And pictures of Cross and Kristen together. What had struck Erik that day was that the picture of his sister and her boyfriend walking on the beach, laughing together, had been in the biggest frame and was the focal point. Not Cross’s career, but the life they were building together.
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br />   There was only one picture of Erik in his father’s living room that didn’t show him in his uniform. He was wearing a suit and had been at the awards night. There wasn’t even a prom picture because he hadn’t gone to prom. He’d either been on the ice or training or talking about training.

  “I want a picture of Andie and I walking on the beach hanging over the back of my couch.”

  “What are you talking about?” His dad had been opening a beer, and he handed it to Erik, who shook his head. “Who’s Andie?”

  “Andrea.” When Lamont just continued with the blank look, Erik felt something inside of him crack open. “Andrea, Dad. We were together for months. Dark, curly hair? Ring any bells? The woman I love and would have asked to marry me, except she wasn’t willing to take a back seat to a sport so we broke up a year ago.”

  “Good for you. You have a gift. You were put on this earth to play hockey and you can’t throw that away.”

  His father had said those words to him a million times. Erik wouldn’t have been surprised if Lamont learned to embroider just so he could cross-stitch it on a pillow for his son’s bed. It was the sentiment that had driven Erik for his entire life—from the time he learned to skate through high school and into the big leagues—and pushed him to be faster, stronger and smarter. He did have a gift. He was a freaking great hockey player.

  “No,” he said, surprising them both. Erik could hardly believe the word had come out of his own mouth, but as soon as he said it, he knew it was right. “I have a natural skill for hockey that I’ve honed with years of training and hard work, but I was put on this earth to live my life. To live and to love, Dad. Hockey is my passion and hockey is my job, but it is not my life. And I walked away from the real gift I was given.”

  If he’d thought about the words, he might not have had the guts to say them out loud. His father had worked his ass off since the day Erik’s first hockey coach said he was born to play hockey. That he had a gift and could go pro. His dad had moved, taking a job that payed less in an area that cost more to position Erik on a better hockey team. His dad had sacrificed. His sister had sacrificed. And Erik had strived his entire career to honor those sacrifices.