“Probably,” Michelle said quietly, while inside, compassion for Esa was sprouting like a seedling pushing up through frozen, cracked earth. Her job was Nell, and she’d assumed that Esa couldn’t connect with his niece because he was a single, womanizing hockey player who knew jack about little girls. She thought he was upset at having this child thrust upon him, precipitating seismic changes in lifestyle. All that was true. But it never occurred to Michelle that Esa might still be grieving, too. Not that that excused his actions; but it did help explain them.
“Thanks for telling me,” said Michelle. “It’s a valuable piece of the puzzle for me to have.”
Erin looked satisfied. “I thought it might be.”
* * *
Maybe Nell was his personal good luck charm. Esa’s game had been coming around, but tonight it was like the puck was finding him. He’d set up Rory for the first goal of the game, saucering a perfect pass to him on a two-on-one break. In the second period he’d anticipated Eric Mitchell pinching, and broke back to cover the point, putting him in position to back check and break up a three-on-two shorthanded rush. Even though he hadn’t scored, Coach Dante had been double shifting him, chirping in his ear on the bench that this was the kind of play they expected from him; that they knew he was capable of.
As time was running down in the third, the Blades were clinging to a one goal lead. Despite their great play, they hadn’t been able to get any breathing room since the Phoenix goalie was standing on his head. With less than two minutes left in the game, David Hewson went to clear the puck, and accidentally shot it into the crowd for a delay of game penalty. Desperate to tie it up, Phoenix pulled their goalie, turning it into a six on four power play. Showing his growing confidence in Esa, Dante sent him out on the ice alongside Rory to kill off the penalty. Inspired, Esa skated from the top of the circles to the point and back again, preventing a clear shot at the goal. With less than twenty seconds left, a quick point-to-point pass freed a Phoenix player up for a one timer. In a burst of speed Esa dove skates first into the shooting lane.
Crack! The puck hit off Esa’s skate and rebounded out of the zone. The buzzer sounded and the Met Gar crowd roared its approval, but Esa couldn’t hear it. His mind was clouded with pain. He felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his ankle.
* * *
“He’s okay, Nell. I promise.”
Nell was gulping down huge mouthfuls of air as Esa crumpled to his knees on the ice. Michelle thought she’d only been half paying attention. She seemed restless and at times, downright bored. Michelle had anticipated that might be the case, which was why she’d brought Nell’s game-loaded iPhone along. But Nell had been surreptitiously watching—and listening—all along. And when she heard the words “Saari is down,” her small body became rigid, and she began hyperventilating.
“Uncle Esa—Uncle Esa—” she gasped, looking wildly at Michelle. “He’s hurt—he’s—he’s hurt—he’s—”
“Nell, look at me.” Michelle put her hands on Michelle’s shoulders and looked her deeply in the eye. “Slow down. I want you to take one long, slow, breath for me.” Nell screwed her eyes shut, concentrating hard as she did what Michelle asked. “Good, good. Again.” Nell did it again. “Good. Now keep doing that, and listen to me.
“I’ve watched a lot of hockey games with my dad and my brother, okay? It looks like what happened is that your uncle went to block a shot from the other team, and the puck hit him hard in the ankle. Now that hurts a lot, but it’s probably not that serious.”
Nell’s eyes filled. “But you don’t know. It could be bad. It could be.”
“As soon as we can, we’ll go find out what happened.”
Nell’s lower lip quivered. “Can I see him?”
Michelle hugged Nell to her. “I don’t know if you can see him right away, but if you can’t, we’ll wait for him at home.” She hugged her tighter. “It’s going to be all right. You’ll see.”
18
“Paskapuhe!”
Sitting in the trainers’ room with his elephant-sized left ankle immersed in an ice whirlpool, Esa knew what Dr. Linderman was going to prescribe. Even so, when he heard the words, he couldn’t help but react. Okay: his left ankle had blown up and every single way the trainer manipulated it sent a burning crack of pain through his body. But all he needed was to ice it and he’d be as good as new. Instead, Linderman wanted him to sit out the next three games. Three games. That meant he’d be off the ice for a week.
Linderman looked tired. “Esa, I have no idea what you just said, but I can guess. You have a deep bone bruise. We’re going to keep icing it, put you in a walking boot, and give you lots of therapy. But if you’re going to be healthy long-term, you need to stay off the ice for a week.” Linderman sounded like he’d said this to hundreds of players over the years, which he probably had. But it rubbed Esa the wrong way; it sounded patronizing.
“Look, Doctor, I appreciate your caution,” Esa said gratefully. “But—”
“Saari, just shut up and take your medicine like a good boy,” Head Trainer Kris Taggart interrupted.
“I don’t see why you just can’t tape it,” Esa protested. As if missing three games wasn’t bad enough, the walking boot was going to require him to hobble around.
“Do you want it to heal or not?”
Esa threw Taggart a dirty look, but he knew the trainer was right: he had no choice but to deal with it.
“Fine,” Esa muttered miserably.
“Do what you’re told and you should be ready to play in the game against Philly. Obviously, you need to keep off it as much as possible.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot, Kris.”
“No, just a Finnish idiot.”
“Hey: I’m going to have the walking boot on,” said Esa, thinking he might have found a loophole. “Doesn’t that mean I can walk around?”
“The boot is to keep your ankle immobile. Walking in it is still going to put pressure on your ankle. Elevation, remember?”
“Nussia,” Esa muttered. This couldn’t have come at a worse time. He couldn’t stand being injured. It made him feel weak, which was the last thing he needed right now. He was still waiting to hear from his agent about the meeting with Kidco’s brass.
Kris patted him on the shoulder. “I know it sucks, man. But at least it’s early in the season, and at least it’s not worse.” He tilted his head in the direction of the TV mounted high on the wall. “You wanna watch the postgame show?”
Esa, whose left leg was going numb in the ice whirlpool, frowned. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Kris and Dr. Linderman left him to his misery.
* * *
“Good news: it’s just a bruise.”
Relief spread across Nell’s face as Theresa put down her iPhone, relaying the news about Esa to them. Michelle wasn’t Esa’s wife, or even his girlfriend; she had no pull finding out what had happened to him. But as the coach’s wife, Theresa did.
“It’s nothing to worry about, sweetie,” Theresa assured Nell. “He’s just got to rest his foot for a week or so and he’ll be as good as new.”
Nell still looked dubious. “He won’t be crippled or anything?”
Theresa’s gaze sought Michelle’s. Of course Nell jumped right to the worst-case scenario. How could it be otherwise, based on her past history?
“Nope.”
“So he won’t limp like the Hunchback of Notre Dame?”
“Nope.”
Michelle pictured it and pressed her lips together to curtail a smile, especially when she saw how disappointed Nell looked. It would be exciting to have an Uncle Quasimodo.
“I told you everything was okay,” said Michelle.
“Can I see him now?”
Michelle looked to Theresa; she had no idea. Theresa made a sad face. “I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t just yet. The players stay in the locker room for a while after the game.”
Nell looked crestfallen.
“I have an idea,” said
Michelle. “We’ll go home now and wait for him. We can make popcorn and everything!”
Nell’s eyes lit up. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Michelle turned to Theresa. “Thanks so much for your help.”
“Oh, please,” said Theresa, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.” She put her hands on her knees and bent forward so her face was level with Nell’s. “It was really nice meeting you.”
“You, too,” Nell said shyly.
“Can I give you a hug?”
“Certainly,” said Nell.
Theresa threw Michelle a look of amusement and hugged Nell lightly before moving on to embrace Michelle as well. “Poor kid,” Theresa murmured in her ear. “God forbid Esa ever does get seriously injured.”
“I know.”
Michelle didn’t want to think about it. She couldn’t afford to.
* * *
“You’re gonna be out for three fuckin’ games? That sucks, especially since you’ve finally got your head out of your ass on the ice.”
Esa, sitting on a bench in the Blades locker room postgame, knew he could count on Jason Mitchell to give voice to what he himself was thinking.
“Nice walking boot,” Ulf noted. “I’ve had to wear those a couple of times. It’s not too bad.”
“That’s good to know.”
“You should wear one on your head, Torkelson,” said David Hewson with a snort. “Maybe it’ll stabilize your brain.”
Ulf gave him the finger as he buttoned up his shirt. “Guys, I have a new bar for us to try tonight.”
Rory groaned. “What’s wrong with the Wild Hart? We’ve been going there for years. The patrons don’t hassle us. And, if I may point out, since the owners are related to my missus, there are lots of nights we drink for free.”
“True,” Jason noted. He regarded Ulf with a smirk. “Why do you want to check out another bar? Think you’ve got a better chance of bagging some tail?”
“Maybe,” Ulf said defensively.
Esa sighed. “Tell us about this place.”
“It’s called Nipsy’s—”
“Whoa, hold it right there,” David cut in. “I’m not going for a beer at a place called Nipsy’s. It sounds like a bad comedy club.”
“I wouldn’t even name a dog Nipsy,” said Esa.
“Bret Sauvages on the Flyers told me it was great,” said Ulfie.
“And you trust that Quebecker?” asked Eric. “He’s about as smart as you. He’s shit compared to you on the ice, though, I’ll give you that, Ulfie.”
“I vote for the Hart,” said David.
Everyone agreed and turned to Esa for his acquiescence. It dawned on him, sitting there with his friends, that he had no desire to go to the Hart, or any other bar. He wanted to head home to see Nell. It felt like the right thing to do, especially if he was sincere about breaking down the emotional wall between them.
He decided honesty was the best policy. “Guys, I’m gonna pass,” said Esa. “I want to go home and see if Nell enjoyed the game.”
At the mention of Nell’s name, Ulf’s face brightened. “I hope she did and comes see us play again.”
Esa hauled himself up to a standing position. “I’ll see you guys later.”
“I’ll give you a ring tomorrow,” said Rory. “Maybe we can figure out a time I can pop ’round.”
“Sounds good,” said Esa, faking enthusiasm as best he could. He just wanted to get home, rest his ankle, and try to connect with Nell. That was more than enough for one night. He couldn’t think beyond that.
19
“Hello, ladies.”
The sight of Esa on crutches jarred Michelle.
Nell bounded off the couch and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist, which made him rock unsteadily on his feet. Michelle read Esa’s face: surprise, then pleasure. He hugged Nell back, his expression uncomfortable but determined. Michelle had been worried that he might go out after the game with his teammates, and Nell, anxious and disappointed, would fall asleep before he got home. But here he was, actually looking like it was where he wanted to be.
Nell released him, staring at his walking boot.
“Pretty ugly, huh?” Esa offered.
“It looks like an astronaut boot.” She gnawed on the tip of her index finger nervously. “Does your ankle hurt badly?”
Esa considered the question. “Not right now.”
Nell leaned forward, studying the walking boot more intently. “Can I touch it?”
“Sure.”
“How come you have to wear it?”
“It helps keep my ankle from wobbling around.”
“In other words, it stabilizes it,” said Nell.
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“Is it all swollen?”
“It was, but I soaked it in an icy whirlpool and the swelling has gone down. Now it’s just black and blue.”
“You’re not going to be paralyzed or anything, right?” Nell asked apprehensively.
Esa glanced at Michelle with concern before turning his attention back to his niece. “Of course I’m not.” It dawned on Michelle that this might be his first realization of how frightened Nell was of anything happening to him.
“Let’s go sit down,” Esa suggested.
Nell was hopping around merrily as she led him to the couch where Michelle sat. “We were waiting for you,” Nell explained. “We made popcorn and everything.”
Esa smiled, easing himself down on the couch before lifting his left foot and putting it up on the coffee table. Michelle felt badly for him: it wasn’t hard to see how much he hated this. The only reason she cared was her fear that his resentment might manifest in curtness, casting a dark cloud over the house.
Nell plunked herself down in the space between Michelle and Esa, happy as a sprite as she helped herself to some popcorn. The three of them sitting there felt uncomfortably domestic to Michelle. She moved over an inch or two, away from Nell and Esa, creating more space.
“Did you enjoy the game?” Esa asked.
Michelle wasn’t sure if he was asking her, Nell, or both of them.
“Um . . .” Nell began, looking at Michelle.
“You can tell him the truth.”
“It was kinda boring,” Nell admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Esa replied ruefully.
“But we liked the warm-up. Right, Nell?” Michelle prompted.
Nell nodded.
“Did you like being in the green room with everyone?” Esa asked, reaching for reassurance.
Michelle felt an unwanted ripple of tenderness toward Esa flutter through her. He was trying so hard.
“Yes. Delilah was there. And Erin, too.” Nell’s smile faded a tiny bit. “But no Stanley.”
“Stanley only comes when the team is in the playoffs,” Esa explained.
“Will you be in the playoffs?” asked Nell.
“I don’t know.” A cloud passed over Esa’s face, his expression unmistakably miserable. Rationally, Michelle knew that Nell was old enough to understand that adults could feel glum, too. But the little girl seemed to take her uncle’s change of mood personally; she nodded solemnly, then moved to nestle herself against Michelle, settling in the crook of her arm.
Since there was no ignoring the looming presence of his injury, Michelle thought it might be best to talk about it. “How long are you going to be laid up for?”
Esa frowned as he grabbed a handful of popcorn. “A week.”
Nell brightened immediately. “Michelle can take care of you like she takes care of me!”
Michelle blanched. “No, sweetie, it doesn’t work that way. Your uncle doesn’t need anyone to take care of him; he’s a grown-up.”
“But you can’t walk about much, can you, Uncle Esa? You’re going to need help, right? And Michelle—”
“I’ll be fine,” Esa said brusquely.
Nell looked stung. “I’m sorry,” she said, snuggling deeper into t
he crook of Michelle’s arm.
“No need to be sorry,” Esa said.
Tell her you’re sorry, you moron.
Esa ran his hand over his face with a weary sigh. “I’m sorry if I sound cranky. I’m just in a bad mood because my ankle hurts.”
Jumped the gun on that one, Beck. Give the guy time to finish a sentence, for chrissakes.
“Okay,” Nell said quietly.
For a few seconds, the TV was the only sound in the room. Despite Esa’s assurance that his ankle was the source of his crankiness, Nell remained in firm retreat against Michelle. Michelle rubbed her shoulder reassuringly. When Nell looked up at her, Michelle gave her a wink that made Nell crack a sad, little smile.
Nell’s withdrawal, though not major, killed Michelle. It was painful to see that Nell’s initial reaction was to blame herself for Esa’s short burst of temper. But that was something grieving kids did: they blamed themselves for everything, including their parent’s death.
Esa was mindlessly grabbing for big handfuls of popcorn as he stared numbly at the TV. It was almost as if he wasn’t even aware of Michelle and Nell’s presence. But then Nell shifted position against Michelle, and her movement appeared to stir the recognition that he wasn’t alone.
“Tired?” he asked Nell.
She just shrugged.
“Well, I am,” Michelle declared with a yawn.
Nell immediately changed her tune. “Me, too.”
She scrambled off the couch. “Can you and Michelle both tuck me in?” Nell asked Esa.
Michelle couldn’t recall ever feeling more put on the spot. “Honey, your uncle has to rest his foot.”
“But it’s a short walk,” Nell pointed out.
Esa looked awkward. “I guess, if it’s what you really want—”
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