“Yeah, as you know, fully recovering from a TBI is pretty rare. At this point, we can just hope that his symptoms don’t worsen over time. If we could keep them as they are, which is manageable, I think he’ll do just fine. We just need to find him something to keep busy with. If he sits around much longer with no real motivation or task to focus on, he’s going to fall into a deep depression.”
“Any more talk about starting a foundation and working with the league on furthering the safety protocols to prevent other guys from suffering a TBI?” she asks.
“I keep encouraging it, but he’s got to take the initiative to actually do it, ya know?”
“Oh, I know. It’s like my patients at work. I can walk them through their PT exercises and work them while they are at their appointment, but if they don’t do the exercises at home, then they’ll recover so much slower. Some just don’t understand that and then get frustrated at me when they aren’t miraculously healed after seeing me two to three hours each week.”
“Hello, ladies.” John’s deep voice startles me slightly. I was no longer paying attention to him talking and didn’t notice that he was headed over to where Julia and I were standing.
“Hey, JC, good to see you,” Julia greets him.
“Nice seeing you, how’s your boy today?” he asks, nodding his head toward the ice.
“He’s pretty excited!” she says, her eyes going wide with her own excitement.
“Is it weird to be here because it’s your fiancé playing and not your dad?” I ask.
“I’ve spent so much time here that I feel at home in this rink. It was a little weird last season when I attended my first game as his girlfriend. The weirdest part was wearing someone else’s jersey. I always cheered for the other guys, so that part wasn’t all that awkward.”
“I can see how that would be weird.”
“How are you holding up, JC?” she asks as he slides his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together. I give him a quick squeeze, just letting him know I’m here for him to lean on whenever he needs me.
“I’m doing okay. Actually, being in here has my spirits up. It’s hard to be down when there is so much anticipation and excitement in the air.”
“That’s great. I hope they pull out the win. Beckett was feeling the pressure to get that win under him to start the season off on the right foot.”
“I’m sure he’ll kick ass, he’s a solid goal tender and he’s got one hell of a coach in his corner,” John tells her. Not only referring to her fiancé, but her dad, since he’s the goalie coach for the organization.
“Sounds like we should take our seats!” I say to both. The announcer just stated who is singing the national anthem for tonight’s game. We make our way down to the seats that are behind large walls of glass. We find three seats together just in time to stand for the anthem to start.
As soon as the singing is done, the ice is cleared. I watch as the players skate around, shaking out limbs of what I can only imagine is pre-game jitters. Even for the most seasoned players, I imagine that the first game of a new season is like a high. New beginnings. A new title to contend and fight for. Once the ceremonial puck is dropped, the game is finally underway. I watch as the guys expertly move up and down the ice. I’ve attended a handful of games over the years with Julia and her family, but for some reason, this game, I’m seeing things with a new light. Maybe it’s because I have John next to me giving me his insight on each play that the guys run, telling me what is going correctly and what’s going wrong.
“I know I don’t know much about all that is going on down there on the ice, but everything you’re telling me sounds like important things the coaches down on the bench would want to know. Are there any positions that look at that kind of thing and feed it to the coaches down on the bench? Even if it isn’t actually during the game, but things that they can work on during practice?”
“There are coaches who focus on every aspect of the game. They use the tapes from the game to break things down to show the guys all of that.”
“You’d be good at that,” I tell him.
“I think it just comes with the experience. Most guys could sit up here and watch what is happening on the ice and tell you if it’s good or bad. We’ve got these plays so ingrained that we could practically run them blindfolded and in our sleep. There are just so many variables that can mess up a play, so it’s hard to be ready for every possible outcome,” he tells me as the goal horn blows. I look out and see the crowd on its feet, cheering loud as the guys on the ice all come together in a little huddle. I watch the big screen for the replay video as I missed the goal talking to John. He walks me through why the play worked, how they were able to pull the defenders out and slip past them to put the puck in the back of the net in what looked like such an easy maneuver.
“That was a sweet goal!” I tell him, watching it one last time on the screens.
“It sure was, will probably make the highlight reel tonight on the NHL Network.”
“Good game, man!” JC calls out to Beckett as they pull one another into a man-hug, slapping each other’s backs. We followed Julia down to the lower level of the arena once the game was over so that John could congratulate the guys on their home opener win over Edmonton. They held their own out on the ice, skating to an easy four to one win.
“Thanks, it was a good one,” Beckett tells us as he pulls Julia into his side, dropping a kiss to her lips. “Sötnos,” I hear him whisper against her lips before they pull away from one another. I love all his little Swedish terms he’s used on her and I know she loves it when he calls her that.
“Missed you out on the ice and in the locker room,” Beckett tells John.
“It was definitely weird not being out there today,” John admits.
“JC!” A few other guys call out to him as they exit the locker room, waving in our direction as they’re greeted by waiting family members. I observe as he waves back, watching his demeanor to make sure this all isn’t too much for him tonight.
“Are you ready to get out of here?” he asks.
“If you are.” I smile up at him.
“I am,” he says, and I can tell with those two words that he’s going to be okay.
“Then let’s go,” I tell him, squeezing his fingers. He returns the motion as I turn to say goodnight to Julia and Beckett before we head out and head back to his place.
Chapter Eleven
Johnathan
“Mason!” I call out as I stand outside the security checkpoint at the airport.
“Uncle Johnathan!” He comes barreling into my arms, yelling my name at the top of his lungs.
“How are you, buddy? Were you good for Mom on the airplane?” I ask as I squeeze him tight, picking him up.
“Yes, I got to watch a show and have snacks!” he excitedly tells me.
“A show and snacks? You must have been one special boy!” I tell him, loving the excitement that just pours from him. “Hey, sis,” I greet my sister once she joins us. I wrap an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in for a side hug.
“Hi, thanks for picking us up,” she says, resting one of her hands on her lower back while the other goes to her growing bump.
“Pregnancy is already causing you pain?” I ask as I take her bag from her.
“Twins, remember. That means I’m bigger than I was with this one,” she says, hooking a thumb in Mason’s direction. “Combine that with an uncomfortable airplane seat and yeah, my back isn’t very happy with me right now,” she tells me.
“Sorry about that. I would have booked you in first class if you’d have let me. Maybe we can still upgrade your flights home,” I tell her as we start to make our way to baggage claim.
“That isn’t necessary, plus, on the way home, Stephanie will be with us, so if I need to get up and walk some I can do that without leaving Mason by himself.”
“When does she get in again?” I ask. My sister-in-law couldn’t fly in with Cindi and Mason due to being out of tow
n for work this week.
“Late Friday night. I think around ten,” she tells me as we find the baggage claim carousel for her flight.
“I can plan to pick her up by myself then, since I know you like to go to bed early in your old age.”
“I’m not that old.” She glares up at me as she reaches over and pinches my side.
“Ouch!” I state dramatically, which causes Mason to laugh at his mom and me.
“No pinching!” Mason comes to my defense. “That’s not nice, Mom,” he chides her.
“That’s right, buddy! You tell her.”
“Oh, please.” Cindi rolls her eyes at me. “Like that even hurt one bit.”
“Okay, so it didn’t,” I admit.
“So, when do I get to meet Jill?” Cindi asks once we’re in my truck and on the road to my place.
“She should be off work and home around six,” I tell Cindi as I change lanes.
“Home, huh?” she says, picking up on my slip of the tongue.
I just shrug my shoulders. “We split our time between each other’s places pretty much fifty-fifty. She has a cat, so she at least stops at her place every day for a little while to be with Walter.”
“If you guys are together all the time, have you had any talks about consolidating and moving in together?” she asks.
“We’ve kind of skirted the conversation. It’s one we should probably have sooner than later with how serious things are getting between the two of us.”
“Do you love her?” my sister asks, hitting me hard right out of the gate with her questions.
I look over at her for only a quick second, not wanting to take my eyes off the road for too long. “I do,” I admit.
“Have you told her that?”
“Not exactly. Again, I think that it is something that we’re skirting around. You know how it is, you never want to be the first one in a relationship to lay it all out on the line. Leaves you pretty vulnerable and open to having your heart broken. I think it’s something that’s mutual, or at least I hope that it is, at this point.”
“You’ll figure out the right time, just don’t wait too long. If she’s as amazing as you’ve told me she is, then you don’t want to let her get away.”
“Got it,” I tell her, knowing that she’s probably right. “Hey, Mason, are you hungry for some lunch?” I ask my nephew, who’s focused on his iPad in the back seat.
“Yes! Can we get McDonalds?” he asks, hope and excitement filling his voice. I inwardly groan, I can’t stand the fast food place myself.
“You leave it open-ended like that and he’ll always suggest that.” My sister laughs at me.
“So how about nuggets for him from there and lunch for us from somewhere a little more appetizing?” I suggest.
“Works for me,” Cindi says.
“Have you hit the cravings portion of pregnancy yet?”
“Not the real weird ones, yet,” she says, laughing.
“Any requests for lunch then?”
“Tacos from that place you love!” she says, rubbing her hands together. “With the biggest bowl of their fresh made guacamole and chips.” She smiles at me, and I can practically see her salivating at the thought of the food.
“That I can do,” I tell her as I pull into a drive through to order Mason’s nuggets. “Here, call the restaurant and put in a to-go order. We can swing by and pick it up next,” I tell her, handing over my cell with the contact pulled up. Order me a lunch number seven,” I tell her as the employee comes over the intercom saying to order when I’m ready.
With Mason’s food secure, I hand over his kid’s meal box so that he can start eating while his food is hot. “Be careful, buddy. No making a mess of my back seat,” I tell him playfully, helping him get things open and as secure as possible. I turn back around in my seat and pull out of the parking lot.
“God, I’m starving,” Cindi says once I’m back in the truck with two bags of food. The smells fill the cab of the truck and have my own stomach growling.
“We’ll be to my place in just a couple of minutes,” I tell her with a chuckle. I look over and see she’s already digging in to one of the bags of chips and has the lid off her container of guacamole.
“Too late.” She smiles at me, a chip full of the guacamole already set to be devoured.
I laugh at her antics. “You act like you’re pregnant or something,” I tease her.
“Laugh all you want, mister. Who’s got all the food in her lap?” she asks, raising her brows at me in question.
“Okay, okay.” I laugh again. “I’ll be nice, but if you hold my lunch hostage, I won’t be so nice. Pregnant with my two nieces or nephews or not,” I tell her in my not so stern, but trying to be stern voice.
“Johnathan, you crack me up and I love you for it,” she tells me as I pull into the garage.
“Love you, too, sis,” I tell her as I back my truck into my spot. “Ready to help Uncle John with the bags, Mase?” I ask my nephew as I turn the truck off.
“Yeppers!” he exclaims. I hop out of the truck, opening the back door and reaching in and unbuckling him from his car seat. I help him pick up all his trash from his lunch. He successfully ate it all while we drove to get our food and then home. I help him down from the truck, then head for the bed to grab their bags. I hand Mason his suitcase, pulling the handle out for him so he can roll it. I grab Cindi’s suitcase and carry on while she handles the takeout bags.
“Does Jill live in a house or apartment?” Cindi asks once we’re sitting down and eating our lunch. Mason is playing with the toys that he packed in his backpack for the flight.
“She rents a condo across town,” I tell my sister between bites.
“Whenever the conversation comes up about moving in together, I think that you should think about picking out a place together. That way it is a fresh start for both of you,” she suggests.
“That’s not a bad idea. I’ve just lived in this place for so long that I’ve kind of forgotten that I’m paying someone else’s mortgage with every rent payment each month.”
“With the close proximity to the rink, it made sense to be here. Plus, it worked out really well over the years with having guys on the team as roommates, but with your retirement now finalized, I think it would be good for you to move on. Find a place that can be yours. Hell, buy a house that needs to be fixed up and do the work yourself. It would give you something to focus on and do. Work with those hands, and get your mind off all the ‘could have beens’.”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for home remodeling.”
“Maybe not, so maybe a turn-key house would be more your style, but even with a turn-key, there are always things that need tending to. You could become the guy with the perfectly manicured lawn.”
“Doesn’t sound like me much, either.” I laugh again at my sister’s suggestions. I know that she’s just trying to give me ideas and cheer me up, and hell, what do I know, maybe one of her crazy ideas will help me.
“Tired?” I ask once we’ve finished eating and I have the leftovers packaged up and in the fridge. When I looked over at Cindi on the couch with Mason, her eyes looked a little heavy as she tried to hide a yawn behind her hand.
“Exhausted,” she says, her head rolling back on the cushion.
“Go take a nap, I’ll watch Mason, maybe take him down to the p-a-r-k,” I say, spelling out the last word.
“You sure?” she asks, yawning again.
“Yep,” I tell her. “Hey, Mason, you want to go to the park with Uncle John while Mom takes a nap?”
“Yes! Can you go down the slide with me?” he asks, hopping off the couch and running over to the door to put his shoes on.
“You are the best,” Cindi tells me as she stands up. She kisses Mason on the top of the head. “Be good for Uncle John,” she tells him before she makes her way down the hall and into the bedroom she uses when she visits.
“All right, buddy, it’s just you and me, kid. Shall we blow this po
psicle stand?” I ask him and he gives me the most quizzical look I’ve ever seen on a three-year-old’s face.
I grab his hand and we head out. Once off the elevator, I slip my sunglasses on and we head outside. The park is only a couple blocks away. Mason is excited to get there, so his little legs are practically running, wanting to get there as quickly as possible.
“Slow down, buddy. You don’t want to fall and hurt yourself,” I warn him.
“I’s a big boy, Uncle J,” he tells me, shortening my name.
“I know you are. How old are you now? Twenty?” I ask him teasingly. He giggles at my questions.
“No, silly, I’m still only three,” he says just as we reach the edge of the park. Since it is a nice day out, there are a decent number of people here. We head straight for one of the play structures. After climbing to the highest point, Mason heads for the slide next. “Are you coming, Uncle John?” he asks me as if I’m not on his heels.
“I’m right behind you, should we go down together?” I ask him as we wait our turn to go down.
He looks down the winding slide, then back at me. “It’s big!” he exclaims.
“It is, how about you sit on my lap and we’ll go down together?”
“Sure,” he finally agrees. I position myself at the top of the slide, sitting him between my legs. I push us off and we go sliding, picking up a pretty good speed on the way down. “That was fun!” he exclaims as we come to the bottom. “Can we do it again?!” he asks.
“Sure, but did you want to check out the other things they have here, first?” I offer. I hardly have the question out when he’s beelining it to the next structure.
We play hard for about forty-five minutes when I notice he’s starting to yawn. “How about we go back to my place and have some quiet time. Maybe we can lay on the couch and watch a movie together?” I suggest, knowing that if I said anything about taking a nap it would have him balking at the idea. Cindi has told me many times how he doesn’t think he needs naps anymore, but really he does. So she just has to get creative with how she gets him to do so.
The Game Changer : Indianapolis Eagles Series Book 8 Page 10