Taking Charge

by Mandy Baggot

  “We’re gonna win!” Mickey said with a smile a mile wide and jubilation in every step.

  “I want focus; don’t let this lead go. Back out there, one hundred percent,” Robyn ordered, trying to calm herself down.

  She couldn’t believe they were winning. She couldn’t believe they had scored against the best team in the league. Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest it hurt. It was the best feeling.

  “It was an amazing goal,” Grant remarked as the referee recommenced play.

  “Yes, it was. Are they filming the game for the website?” Robyn inquired.

  “I believe so.”

  “I want that DVD; I want to relive that goal twenty times over. Oh, what’s happening? Where’s the defense? Shit! Cole! Get back! Oh man! No! No! This can’t be happening!” Robyn yelled as Reading scored at the other end of the rink and their fans began celebrating the equalizer.

  “Stupid error from Wes caused that. He needs to come off, he’s hurt,” Grant told her as the heads of the Panthers team went down in recognition of their lost lead.

  “There’s only five minutes until the end of the period,” Robyn said, looking at the clock counting down.

  “Yeah, but that player just skipped past him. He does that again, we’re losing,” Grant told her, stating the obvious.

  “Who would you put on?”

  “Art.”

  “He’s defense.”

  “I know.”

  “We can’t do that. We can’t start defending a draw, we need to win,” Robyn told him.

  “A draw against this team would be a great result,” Grant told her.

  “That wouldn’t be good enough for me. Jon, you’re going on for Wes. Wes!” Robyn shouted, beckoning him over as play was stopped.

  “You’re doing really well,” Grant said to the team at the end of the second period.

  The score was still one all, but the Panthers were looking tired. Their squad was smaller than Reading’s, and they didn’t have the option to change players around so much.

  “We need another goal,” Robyn told them seriously.

  “I’m done,” Mickey announced, drinking water like it was going out of fashion.

  “Me too. My ribs are on fire,” Wade said, supporting his side with his hands.

  “I have ankle that feel like large rock hit it,” Henrik announced, holding up his skate as if everyone could see.

  “Anyone else got any complaints? Because I thought you were an ice hockey team and not a ladies club,” Robyn shouted at them.

  No one dared answer back.

  “Now, what we need to do is hold up their attackers and at every opportunity get the puck to Henrik. He’s your main front man. Everyone else…I want you to consolidate their attack. That’s all,” Robyn instructed them.

  “Their number fourteen’s carrying an injury,” Brad informed everyone.

  “Then take him out. It isn’t rocket science, guys, is it? We can beat them, they’re nothing special. I have no idea how they’re top of the league if they play like this every week. We’re better than them,” Robyn told her team.

  “She’s got a hundred dollars on us to win,” Cole spoke up.

  “A hundred dollars! You’re kidding me! Are you crazy?” Mickey exclaimed as the players all turned to stare at Robyn.

  “You promised you wouldn’t tell them!”

  “What were the odds?” Brad inquired.

  “Fifty to one.”

  “Oh man! You get five thousand dollars if we win?” Mickey said excitedly.

  “What is odds?” Henrik wanted to know.

  “I put that bet on because I have faith in you. Don’t prove me to be as stupid as the bet sounds,” Robyn said as the team huddled close together.

  “A hundred dollars,” Brad said shaking his head at her.

  “Oh, easy come, easy go,” Robyn replied with a smile.

  “You know, if Reading get another goal, we’re done for, don’t you?” Grant remarked as Robyn gnawed at her fingers.

  “Thanks for that Grant, what d’you want me to do? Sub myself on?” Robyn asked.

  “I’m just saying; don’t be disheartened if we leak a goal now. We’re under constant attack.”

  “I am well aware of that.”

  “You’ve done a good job picking their chins up off the floor, you know. They all really want to play for this team now, the camaraderie is returning—that’s because of you,” Grant told her.

  “That’s all they needed. Success is eighty percent belief, don’t you know,” Robyn replied.

  On the ice, Brad picked up the puck, dodged past one player, and laid the ball off to Henrik. Henrik picked it up but was immediately slammed into the boards by the Reading enforcer. The puck slipped free and Cole caught it with his stick and turned. He looked up, shrugged off a tackle from a Reading defender, drew back his stick, and hit the puck toward goal.

  The goaltender went down on his knees, the puck flew past him into the top of the net, and the light lit up—Goal!

  Robyn let out an ear splitting scream, throwing her hands in the air and punching it in delight. Cole was mobbed by his team and Grant was almost on the ice, jigging up and down and yelling while the referee was surrounded by Reading players demanding the goal be disallowed.

  Two minutes later, time was up and the Panthers had won. It was unbelievable, no one had thought victory was achievable but they had done it.

  The Portage crowd seemed more satisfied than they had been in months and excited about the games to come.

  “I can’t believe we won, I mean, Hell!” Mickey exclaimed loudly.

  He then threw his head back and howled like a wolf.

  “Jeez man! You have to stop doing that, it freaks me out!” Wes said as they all began to strip off their kit and get into the showers.

  “He’s done it since we were kids,” Robyn informed them from the corner of the room where she was sorting out the water bottles.

  “Is that traditional celebration noise?” Henrik asked, pulling down his jockstrap and getting under the water.

  “Absolutely not,” Wade said, wetting his hair.

  “So Cole, I guess getting on the score sheet makes you an official Panther,” Mickey said, splashing him with water.

  “I can’t believe it went in. I caught it all wrong,” Cole said with a laugh.

  “Speaks the pro! Who cares? We won! We beat Reading. Did you see their faces, man? They were freaked,” Mickey said.

  “What the Hell is this?” Brad asked, picking up Cole’s shower gel and holding it up for all to see.

  “Oh man, come on, it isn’t mine. I picked up the wrong one, it’s Robyn’s,” Cole tried to explain.

  “It’s purple and it’s called Exfoliation. Is that even a proper word? And it’s got grapefruit and guava in it. Interesting,” Brad teased.

  “It is very purple,” Wes commented.

  “Give it here,” Cole said and he made a lunge for it, knocking it out of Brad’s hands.

  The bottle fell out of the shower and onto the floor. Cole got out of the shower and bent down to pick it up just as Robyn walked passed on her way out.

  She looked straight at him. There was no hiding his nakedness, and she found herself immediately reddening and not knowing what to do. She couldn’t turn away; she couldn’t stop looking at him. If ever there was an advertisement for the perfect man the image before her would be what they would use. He was toned and molded in all the right places and he was hot and wet from the combination of the game and the shower. She chewed on her thumb and closed her eyes as soon as she remembered she should.

  “Sorry,” Cole said hurriedly, turning his back to her and returning to the shower.

  “Hey, Boss! Get your kit off and get in the shower! We freaking won!” Mickey yelled, and he leaned back and howled the loudest howl he could manage.

  “Jesus! Man!” Wes exclaimed, holding his hands over his ears.

  “Woman in locker room is not right,” Henrik sa
id, covering his private parts with a lather of soap.

  “Listen up! I just wanted to say something before you all disappear to the bar and start celebrating. First off, training tomorrow at twelve, don’t be late. We may have won today, but we need to keep up the momentum. And second—well—I am so God damn proud of you!” Robyn exclaimed, clenching her fist and gesturing it at them.

  The team let out a group cheer and started singing the Portage Panther’s team song as they linked arms and swayed in time under the showers like a group of kids.

  “Where’s Grant?” Brad questioned when the singing had finished.

  “Grant and Bob are in charge of the kitty for the celebration drinks. They’re getting them as we speak. But listen, before we get all excited about more freebies, club funds are all but gone and I have a limit on my finances. I won’t be doing this every time you win, which I expect every game now,” Robyn explained.

  She still couldn’t keep her eyes off Cole. He was showering, rinsing off the shower gel, water running through his hair and down his face, along his chest, and over his buttocks…

  “Okay, so, one other thing. Barbecue tomorrow at Cole’s place. 3540 Woodhams Avenue. From after training ‘til the last person passes out. My treat for you doing so awesome today. They’re predicting record October temperatures so bring your trunks,” Robyn informed them.

  “3540 Woodhams? Isn’t that one of the million dollar houses? Man, are you loaded or something?” Mickey asked of him.

  “I’m renting,” Cole replied.

  “I love party!” Henrik said, slapping Cole on the back and grinning widely.

  “Great, right, so, I’ll just go and give my commiserations to the poor, dejected, rather useless Reading manager and let you all get decent,” Robyn said, backing toward the door.

  “I want to smile right in the face of Gillies. The tool,” Wade said, speaking of the Reading enforcer.

  “Just let Mickey do the wolf howl in the bar, that will be enough to piss off everybody,” Brad told them.

  “Okay, so, I’ll see you in the bar,” Robyn said, still looking at Cole as he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off.

  “Tradition that the boss gets in the shower after a win,” Brad called to her.

  “Since when?”

  “We had Eddie in here last season,” Mickey informed her.

  Robyn bolted from the room. She slammed the door shut and leaned against it, trying to get the image of Cole’s nude body out of her mind. They were all supposed to be asexual to her here, even her fiancé.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “Dad? Can you hear me? Dad?”

  “I’m here! Jeez, Max, quit with the barking for Christ’s sake! Robyn’s on the phone. He’s coughing his guts up again. That’s what you get for smoking sixty Marlboro a day since time began,” Eddie replied.

  “We won, Dad, we beat Reading,” Robyn said, holding the phone closer to her ear.

  She was smiling as she looked at her team sitting together drinking pitchers of beer and filling the jukebox up with tunes of glory.

  “I know, Buttercup, I heard every God damn second on the radio. I wish I could have been there. What was it like? Was it a big crowd?” Eddie asked.

  “The biggest all season, so Grant said. It was almost like the old days. There were families there and two of the local school football teams came. There was probably almost three thousand,” Robyn told him.

  “And how did it feel when Cole hit the back of the net? The commentator went crazy, said he’d never seen a goal like it. Did he look every inch Wolves material?”

  “He was awesome, Dad. The goal was awesome but so was the whole team. They really played as a unit. They supported each other after the equalizer and they never gave up—not once,” Robyn continued.

  “That’s because of you, Buttercup.”

  “They’re your team, Dad, and I told them to do it for you.”

  “Did they get you in the shower?”

  “I’m still a fast runner,” Robyn said, grinning.

  “Max, can I tell Robyn about your bet? Okay, Max doesn’t want you to know, but he backed the Panthers…won a grand,” Eddie said with a hearty laugh.

  “I knew he wouldn’t dare bet against us! You can tell him I won five,” Robyn replied.

  “Five what?”

  “Five grand.”

  “What? How much did you lay out?”

  “A hundred bucks. I got good odds.”

  “Jeez, Robyn, a hundred dollars! Where did you get that sort of money to spend on gambling?”

  “That’s my business.”

  “Is it illegal?”

  “No, Dad. Listen, I’d better go, I’ll come and see you tomorrow,” Robyn said.

  “Okay, well, you can bring Cole if you like; I want to hear about the goal from the guy who scored it,” Eddie said.

  “Sure. Now, listen, eat all your dinner and no staying up too late watching boxing. Tell Max the same.”

  “You’re sounding old, Buttercup. Max, no boxing,” Eddie called to his bedmate.

  She could hear Max grumbling in between coughs and she ended the call.

  Brad came over to her and handed her a glass of beer.

  “Was that Eddie?” he questioned.

  “Yeah, he’s excited over the win, but he wishes he could have seen it,” Robyn said with a sigh, taking a swig of the drink.

  “When’s his operation?”

  “Wednesday, if all goes as planned. If he keeps his blood pressure down, if his sugar levels are stable, if there are no other more urgent cases, if the wind’s blowing in the right direction, you know, that sort of thing.”

  “And when does the roadhouse reopen?”

  “Friday! Don’t remind me about that, it’s going to be a disaster. I haven’t got a band and Nancy thinks all the kids will be freaked out by the clowns I’ve booked to do balloon animals and plate spinning. The chef needs some special sort of cheese I’ve never heard of to make the new roadhouse signature dish, and I’m so stressed I’m eating my way through the dill pickles I bought for the stock room and having to replenish them almost every day,” Robyn exclaimed.

  “Hey, if they’re the only things you have to worry about, it sounds like you got it covered,” Brad replied, touching her arm.

  “Yeah, well, then there’s Jason.”

  “He hasn’t been near you again?” Brad asked, immediately stiffening.

  “No. but he’s dragging it all back up again. He’s hired a lawyer to get the case reopened. If the police do reopen the case, they’ll want to talk to everyone again, talk to me again, make me relive it all over again. I can’t do that,” Robyn said.

  “It’s never going to happen. It was an open and shut case. There’s no way they’ll reopen anything without good cause, like new evidence or something,” Brad reassured her.

  “Well, what if he has some or he gets some?”

  “Did he say he had some?”

  “Well, no but…” Robyn began.

  “Then stop worrying. I’m telling you, nothing’s gonna come of it. Anyway, you think my daddy’s going to let him reopen the case? He worked hard on that case; he made sure justice was done for you, Robyn,” Brad reminded her.

  “I know, but you said he was retiring.”

  “Not yet. And definitely not if Jason’s back in town,” Brad assured her.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be bringing any of this up now, I mean, Hell! We have a victory to celebrate!” Robyn said, leading the way back to the group.

  He smiled as he watched her mount a chair with Mickey and sway in time to “We Are the Champions.” He’d seen the way she looked at him when she’d caught him in the shower. And her seeing him had affected him, too. His groin had reacted, and he’d had to clamp down on that feeling before it had gotten out of control.

  Last night, after he’d proposed and they’d lain in bed together, he couldn’t go back to sleep. He’d feigned fatigue, closed his eyes and waited for her
to drop off just so he could have a moment looking at her. He loved her. It was four days since he’d met her, and he loved her. That’s why he’d asked her to marry him. That depth of feeling couldn’t be ignored, but he knew she wasn’t ready for anything physical. He was okay with that. It seemed secondary somehow. This was different from anything else he’d had before—so different. He still couldn’t quite believe it. How did something like that just happen?

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “When is pig ready? I need pig, I have much hungry,” Henrik stated, swigging from a bottle of beer.

  “Pig’s been cooking all day, just about to reach optimum succulence, apparently. Have some chips,” Robyn said, offering him the plate she was carrying.

  There were over twenty people in Cole’s garden the following day. They had trained in the morning, despite most of the team being hungover from the victory celebrations that had lasted late into the night. Now they were drinking, chatting, and dancing to the music coming from the outside surround sound while eating chips, dips, and steaks from the barbecue Bob was happily tending to. Everyone was enjoying the Michigan heat and the previous night’s game was still being relived.

  Mickey let out a loud werewolf howl and Sarah slapped his arm.

  “Stop doing that! No one thinks it’s funny and you sound ridiculous,” she told him, taking a sip of her white wine.

  “Oh, lighten up Sar, it’s a party! You know…fun,” Mickey snapped, downing his bottle of beer.

  “Yes, I vaguely remember fun. It’s what we used to have before you were out with the boys all the time,” Sarah told him.

  “Hey, come on you two, Robyn’s gone to a lot of effort here, let’s enjoy it,” Brad ordered them, handing Sarah another glass of wine.

  “Oh, thank you, Brad. I didn’t really need another one but…” Sarah spoke, blushing slightly.

  “This house is amazing, have you seen the size of the TV?” Mickey asked Brad.

  “Yeah, and the Jacuzzi’s almost as big as a pool, Henrik’s dying to get in it,” Brad said.