by Kim Findlay
Mike tried to picture the woman Bridget would despise.
“On the other hand, I’ve played on beer league teams with my brothers—”
Mike interrupted her. “You play on their teams, on the ice?”
“Yeah.”
He was surprised. Road hockey was one thing. At a rink, on ice, the play would be much faster. He hadn’t realized she played at that level.
“Anyway, those teams were more for fun, so it didn’t matter if I was only there once in a while when they were short a defenseman. But sometimes a guy would have issues with a woman playing, and that really scuttled the team. It would be something like that, right?” She tilted her head, awaiting his response.
Mike smiled. “I guess I’m the woman on the team in that scenario?” He pointed at her empty glass. “Do you want another?”
Bridget shook her head. “Time to go, I think.” Mike wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. She stood up quickly.
Mike threw some money on the table for the tip, and they made their way out. People nodded to him, and some looked like they wanted to talk, but he maneuvered Bridget out the door without interruption.
“Where are you parked?” he asked. “Or are you taking a cab?”
“I’m a couple blocks away,” she said, pointing in the general direction. “I’m fine. You can go.”
Mike started walking in the direction she’d indicated. He turned to look at her. She raised her brows. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
“Unfortunately, there’s no guarantee of ‘fine.’ My mother raised me better than that, and your brothers would never forgive me for letting you walk alone.”
Bridget gave in, agreeing that her brothers would do the same.
They went half a block in silence. Mike tried to think of an innocuous way to ask if he’d offended her.
Bridget spoke up, sounding suspiciously like someone trying to make polite conversation. “Patrick and Bradley, you remember his son? Your number one fan. They’re really looking forward—” Then she stopped in place. “Crap, crap, crap and CRAP!”
Mike looked around to spot what had instigated this outburst, but he couldn’t see anything. He turned to her, puzzled.
“Anything I can do?”
Bridget resumed walking. “No, it’s my problem. I forgot to pick up my gift for Bradley’s party tomorrow. What a rotten aunt! Unless you’re up for some breaking and entering, I’m going to have to disappoint him. Crap!”
“Can’t you give it to him later?” He wasn’t sure what could be that vital. Knowing the O’Reillys, it would be a big party, and there would be a lot of presents.
“Of course, but Nancy’s planned this party with kids from his class, and he’s been bragging about meeting you. They’ve hassled him about that, not really believing him, so I had the photo from Boxing Day of the two of you blown up and put on a shirt. It would have been good to have that for the party. But they’re closed tomorrow, so now I can’t get it. Stupid of me.”
Mike had come to a stop.
Bridget shook her head. “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal, really. His mom has the picture on her phone, and we’ll back him up.”
Mike spoke hesitantly. “Would it help if I showed up?”
Bridget blinked at him. “What?”
Mike wasn’t especially vain, but he was a professional hockey player, and that impressed a lot of people, especially kids. “Just for a while. I don’t want to monopolize the party, but if his friends think he’s lying about knowing me, maybe if I showed up it would give him a boost.”
* * *
BRIDGET SHOOK HER HEAD. “You’ve got stuff to do. You can’t just wander around being a party favor for an eight-year-old.”
“I don’t have practice.” Mike grinned at her. “Since I didn’t get called out by the coaches like some people we spoke to tonight, I’m a free agent tomorrow.”
Bridget didn’t know what to say. Bradley would be over the moon. But at the same time, she was trying to keep her distance from Mike. If he was going to keep confiding in her and doing nice things with her family she was going to fall—
She flinched back from that thought. That could not happen. What was wrong with her?
“Come on, it’ll be fun. What time?” Mike was smiling at her, encouraging her to agree.
Bridget told herself to be strong. Nothing good would come of it for herself—but when she thought about Bradley, like she hadn’t this afternoon, she caved. This would be the last time she’d see Mike, at least like this. If he wanted company after any of the other games, it would be her dad or her brothers he could talk to. And four months from now, or sooner, he’d be gone. After that she’d see him on TV, playing, giving interviews, but not in person. Then she could get over this...infatuation.
She sighed. “Two p.m. It’s at the local rink. I can text you the address.”
“Why don’t I pick you up? Then you can get bonus points for bringing me, to make up for being such a horrible aunt that you forgot to get his shirt.”
Bridget couldn’t help but smile. “Okay. I obviously need the help.”
“So where do you live?”
“My parents’.” Her voice grew defensive. “Not with them. I have the basement apartment.”
Mike raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment out loud. “Okay, do we want to be at the rink for two, or a little after?”
Bridget thought about the parents who’d probably want to do the fan thing with Mike if they saw him when they were dropping off their kids.
“After is probably better,” she said.
“So I’ll pick you up just after two. Where is your car? And was your dad actually willing to drive with you?”
Bridget glared at him. “Who do you think taught me to drive?”
* * *
MIKE SHOWED UP promptly at two, in the Rover. He’d filed away that bit of information, that she lived in the basement suite of her parents’ place. It explained how she’d slipped away from the group on Boxing Day so easily...and she was apparently embarrassed about living in her parents’ basement. That might be useful information someday. Why? He didn’t know, but he did know he liked filing away these bits of Bridget trivia.
Bridget was waiting on the front step. As soon as she waved at him, she was moving to meet him. She opened the door almost before he’d come to a halt, and threw her skates and a backpack inside.
“In a hurry?” Mike asked.
“It’s cold out, in case you didn’t notice. I know, it’s probably balmy compared to Quebec, tough guy, but I was getting cold.”
“Then why didn’t you wait inside?”
“I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
Mike looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “Or maybe you actually do live at home and just made up this story about the basement. It’s not really that embarrassing.”
“I did not!” she sputtered, glaring at him. “Are you going to drive this thing, or just cast aspersions on my integrity?”
“Oh, I’m having lots of fun with the aspersion casting. And I don’t know where I’m going, remember?”
Bridget shook her head. “Fine, turn right at the corner.”
The rink was a five-minute drive. Mike guessed that the O’Reillys had spent a lot of time there. It wasn’t fancy, just a typical community rink, and completely familiar to Mike. Bridget led the way into the lobby, carrying her gear. Mike followed with a hockey bag he’d grabbed from the back of the Rover while Bridget checked to see if everyone had arrived.
There was controlled chaos inside. There were about twenty kids, mostly boys, but some girls as well. They had either laced up their skates and had moved out to the ice, or were being assisted in putting on skates by family members.
Patrick’s wife, Nancy, first noticed them. “Thank goodness! Bridget, can you get out there and get t
hem started while we get the rest in skates?” Nancy stopped, staring at Mike. She looked shocked.
The place got quieter as some of the kids and the O’Reilly clan turned and recognized Mike. To the others he was just another adult hanging around. Bridget sat down beside Bradley and started putting on her own skates. Bradley looked at her in awe, and Mike heard the boy whisper, “Did you bring Mike to my party?”
Mike dropped down beside Bridget and pulled skates out of his bag. He leaned over Bridget and whispered back, “Yes, she did.”
“Wow,” said Bradley. He looked up at his idol in disbelief. “Thank you.”
Mike was touched by the gratitude in the kid’s face. “You head on out there, and I’ll join you once I lace up.”
Bradley shuffled off on his skate guards. The rest of the family were looking at each other, a range of expressions on their faces. He was pretty sure his arrival was a surprise, and hoped it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t want to steal Bradley’s thunder.
“You brought skates?” Bridget hissed out the side of her mouth.
“You said it was a rink party. I threw them in the Rover just in case, and when I saw you had yours...”
Bridget shook her head, then responded to Nancy’s entreaty by shrugging off her parka and heading to the ice.
* * *
WORD WAS SPREADING among the kids. One skated up to her. “Is that really Mike Reimer?”
Bridget nodded. Every group had one of “those” kids, and she was pretty sure this was the one in this group, just like Tony had been in her swimming class.
“How much do you have to pay to get him for a party?” asked the kid. Bridget didn’t like his attitude.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He came today because he’s a friend of Bradley’s. You can ask Mike if he hires out for parties, but I doubt it.”
She skated away, and pulled out a whistle to get the kids’ attention.
Patrick wanted to have a hockey game with the kids, but before they made up teams, they needed to know how well everyone could skate. So Bridget was going to lead them through some games first. The last kids made their way out onto the ice and over to Bridget, and the adults who weren’t going to prepare the party food followed.
“Okay guys, it’s time for O’Reilly tag. Who’s played before?”
Bradley was the only one who raised his hand.
“Here are the rules. First, you cannot run into anyone. If you do, or knock someone over, it’s a penalty, in the box.” Bridget pointed to the penalty box. The kids looked taken aback. Penalties for them?
“Second, you cannot touch the blue or red lines. You can stay in one section, or jump over the lines, but you cannot skate across them, or again, you go into the penalty box.” She pointed again.
“You are safe from being tagged while squatting, and still moving on the ice, or if you’re skating on just one skate, with the other being above ankle height.”
Bridget raised her skate to demonstrate.
“We know that your ankle is above your foot, so there should be space between your blade and the ice. Like this. While moving. If you are staying still, you are fair game. To even things up, adults have to skate backward in the neutral zone. Everyone got it?”
Bridget did a quick summary. “No knocking into anyone. No skating on the lines. If you can’t skate fast, you can squat on your skates—” Bridget had her brothers demonstrate, and some of the kids joined in “—or stand on one foot with the other lifted up.” A couple of kids wobbled as they tried it while standing still. “And as long as you’re moving, you’re safe. If you’re skating normally, or aren’t moving, you can be tagged.
“Patrick and I will ref. Mike can start as It.”
Mike looked at Bridget while the kids all scrambled away. “Are you serious about this?”
“Definitely. My dad made this up when we were kids. It was a way to do skating drills while having fun. You can bet that we can jump, squat and skate on one blade really well.”
“So, can I tag you now?”
Bridget shook her head. “You weren’t listening. I’m reffing for now. And if I see you cross a line...”
But Mike was off, catching up to the big Tony-type boy easily. Bridget kept a careful eye on the skaters on one end of the ice, leaving the other to one of her brothers. Twice she had to penalize the kids, and once, one of her brothers, but everyone was catching on and having fun. Brian skated up to her, and said, “I’m taking a break. I’ll ref, you’re It.”
Bridget dashed off after her nephew, gave him a good scare, and kept an eye out for Mike. The kids had tagged him a couple of times, and she suspected that he’d given them a break because none of the adults had touched him. He could drop into a squat with ease, and even jump over a line while squatting. Bridget hadn’t realized that goalies had an advantage in this game. Cormack had never been especially good at it.
Her initial instinct was to be the first adult to tag him, but she thought better of it. Instead, she did her best to ignore him. That was easier than it could have been because he was swamped by the kids. But that focus was her undoing. While skating backward through the neutral zone, she ran into someone and went down. She called for a penalty, and then realized it was Mike.
“You cheated!” he said.
She shook her head and smiled. Brian blew the whistle and waved Mike into the box.
Bridget took the opportunity to slip off the ice and get back into regular shoes. She went to the party room, where Nancy and the sisters-in-law were organizing the food. Jee would normally skate, but she was taking precautions with her pregnancy.
When Bridget entered, she was grilled.
“How did you get Mike to come? Why didn’t you tell us?” said Nancy.
So Bridget explained. She didn’t tell them that she’d forgotten the shirt because she’d been so worried about meeting Mike after the game. That was too pathetic to share.
“I don’t know, Bridget. Maybe he just wanted to spend some time with you,” Nancy teased.
Bridget had had enough. She knew her sisters-in-law were just trying to be nice, but this wasn’t helping her. She was going to make a fool of herself, and she needed them on her side.
“Can everyone just stop with the matchmaking? Seriously?
“Listen, the guy has my phone number. He knows where I live, and he knows where I work. But he hasn’t tried to get in touch, not even once, since we stopped doing those workouts last fall—which Mom pushed him into, you may recall. Last night was supposed to be a meet with Dad and me, not a date. Today, he’s helping out a kid. And I think I guilted him into it.
“So either he’s still hung up on his wife and is never going to date again—”
“That’s not it,” said Jill. All eyes turned her way. “What?” she said. “I looked him up online. There were pictures of him in Quebec. He dated some pretty gorgeous women.”
Bridget felt a pang. Somehow, it would have been easier to think he wasn’t interested in her because he was still in love with a ghost.
“Then he obviously isn’t interested in me. So rather than trying to force us together, or make me think there’s something there when there’s not, let’s just be honest and accept the truth. Now, I’m going to walk home.” She ignored the protests. “It’s not that far, and then I’m going to the club to swim laps. Tell Bradley Happy Birthday for me, and that I’ll get him his present tomorrow. Tell the boys whatever to keep them from worrying, and I’ll see you later.”
The shirt wouldn’t be needed now, really. The school would be buzzing with the story of Mike Reimer, Blaze goalie, being at Bradley’s party. Bradley would be a rock star.
She was losing this battle. It would be really helpful if he could do something horrible, or even a bit mean because he just kept wrapping little tendrils around her heart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
> MIKE CHECKED HIS PHONE. Good. Tonight Brian and Jee were coming to the game, and were happy to meet up afterward. Mike badly wanted to talk to Jee. He knew she was Bridget’s best friend, and she should be the person he could best approach.
He was doing great, professionally. The Blaze were now, at the end of January, within reach of a playoff spot. There was still a gap, but they were no longer considered a long shot. And the reason for the turnaround was Mike. He was back: back as the Iceman, not the failure they’d had last year. That helped the whole team. They could take more risks when they knew there was a goalie behind them who wouldn’t let the puck in. They could play less defensively, and as a result, the offense was picking up. They didn’t win every game, but they were piling up points.
So things were better with the team’s performance, but he hadn’t seen Bridget since she left the ice at Bradley’s birthday party at the end of December. He’d noticed her leave. When she didn’t come back, he’d gone to see if everything was okay. The sisters had told him she had a headache and had gone home, but the way they’d looked at him...he knew something was up. He thought he’d been reasonably discreet, but perhaps Bridget had noticed that he had tracked where she was on the ice too closely. Had that offended her? Maybe agreeing to come to the party had been over the top. But he was developing a soft spot for Bradley. A week ago, Bradley had come to a game with his dad. Mike brought him a puck from the game, and the kid hadn’t been able to speak. Sure, he was just a kid, but it was good to bring that kind of joy to someone.
Really, he hadn’t offered to come to the party just to spend some time with Bridget, though that had been part of it. He’d like it if they could at least be friends. He’d spent a good while keeping some distance, since there was no point in wanting a woman who wasn’t interested in him. But he found her easy to talk to, and that was rare for him. She understood sports and the role they played in his life. She was fun, and completely unpredictable. He loved seeing her temper flash up, even when it was at him. She wasn’t conventionally attractive, true, and not especially tactful, but he appreciated her honesty, and he had discovered an attraction to red hair and freckles that he’d never recognized before.