“You can make a bet, but you can’t play fair?” Then she says, “Kids,” before skating for a circle. She shoots and scores.
“It’s a deal,” he says and skates off.
“I can’t believe Ty Caldwell is willing to make a deal,” she banters.
“I’ll still win,” he boasts and skates around center ice. Eileen stands at the face-off circle, watching his long, quick glide before stopping to shoot.
Eileen picks up a puck and skates around the circle. She winds up and, with all her might, takes a slap shot, firing the puck into the net. Trying hard not to smile, feeling like she’s won the game, she tightens her lips, scoops up the puck, and gives a hard pass to Ty.
“I bet you didn’t think you would be challenged, did you?” she asks, skating past him. Eileen doesn’t want to admit it, but she is enjoying putting him in his place. She grimaces at the fact that she is able to make a professional hockey player work hard for bragging rights even though he’s winning by one point. They finish off the next circle.
“Oh, Francis, I think you’ll be going on another date with me,” he says and then takes a shot. “Yup, that oughta do it.”
“Not so fast, Slick. We have one more circle,” she says, gripping her stick and eyeing the net. She winds up for the shot and with all her strength she shoots, but just as she slaps her stick down, she loses her balance and fans on the puck, hitting the crossbar.
Without a word, she skates to the red line and waits for Ty’s smart-ass comment.
“Nice try,” he says. “You’re good competition.”
That’s it? Wasn’t he supposed to say something like, “That shot cost you a night out with me,” or “Had you kept your eyes focused on the net, it would have gone in.”
Ty shoots the puck and gets it in the net as planned. He then skates after it to call it a game.
“I guess I win,” he yells as he skates toward her.
“I guess so,” she says, hanging her head.
“I know, it’s tough when you lose, eh?” he jokes. “So where is it going to be? You pick the place, but a pub would be a good choice.”
“You’ll have to take a rain check.”
“That’s not the deal.”
“Yeah, well, Ted warned me that if I saw you I’d lose my job here.”
“He doesn’t have the right.”
“I know, but he will do what he can,” she says.
“Eileen!” a voice shouts and she looks over at Steve, still in his tracksuit and wearing a straight face, standing at the bench and waving her over.
“Can I see you for a minute?” he calls out.
She skates to the bench. “Yes?” She hopes there’s news he has a contract for her.
“Rick and Ted want to see you upstairs.”
“Now?” Eileen asks.
“Please.”
“Is everything okay?” she asks, trying not to sound concerned. She steps off the ice to unlace her skates.
“Just a quick meeting, that’s all.”
“Okay.”
Ty skates over to the bench, leaning one elbow on the boards. “So, what do you say?” he asks, ignoring his coach’s presence.
She glances up at Ty, holding a steady gaze, and she says firmly, “Not now. I’ll talk to you later.” She slips on her running shoes.
“Yeah, we need to keep our bet,” Ty says. “Don’t forget.”
“Bet?” Steve says. “You two have a bet going on?” His face is childlike, as though he’s missing out on something.
Eileen gives Ty a sharp eye. Don’t blow it.
“Just a little wager,” Ty says. “No big deal . . .”
Eileen puts her skates into her gym bag. “All set,” she mutters as she stands and then walks away with Steve.
When they enter the boardroom, Steve tells her to have a seat and waves his hand toward the chair she sat in when she got hired. Is this going to be her chair from now on, like at the dinner table where everyone has assigned seating? Perhaps this is the start of her involvement off the ice.
She sits down. “What’s going on?” she asks, looking at the emotionless faces.
Her heart races and her mind is scrambling to think of what this urgency could be about. It feels serious; the room is tense with stiff faces. Suddenly her stomach is feeling uneasy.
“Thanks for making it,” Rick says. “I know you need to get to your other job, so we won’t take up too much of your time.” He’s speaking calmly, as though he’s performed this speech many times before. “Having you here has been great and we appreciate your skills and your superior hockey attitude, but most importantly your commitment. That in itself has made you a prime candidate for this job.” He folds his hands on the table, where there are stapled papers and a notepad. He looks down as though gathering his words and then looks up to express his gratitude. “We have been pleased with your skills and ability to work with the team—”
Just get on with it! Will you? Just give me the contract and I’ll sign!
“Unfortunately, as much as we appreciate your talent, we are under obligation and cannot keep you on board for the pre-game season.”
“What?” She tilts her head, not sure if she is hearing what she thinks they are telling her.
“I’m sorry, Eileen. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, and I wish you much success in your future. I know you’ll do well in your career wherever it will lead you.”
She tries to comprehend what he’s telling her. What did she do to deserve this? If only she pressured them into signing a contract when they first hired her. What are their grounds for getting rid of her? She missed that part.
“So, please explain to me,” she says as she clears her throat. “You’re telling me that my job here is finished?” She tries to keep her voice at an even tone so that her frustration and anger won’t seep through.
The men’s faces are like statues; they freeze, not uttering a word.
“And all along I thought I was doing you a favor,” she concludes.
“We’ll compensate you for the early termination,” Rick says.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?” she says. “It’s not about the money.”
“We’re sorry,” Rick says.
“Me too! I’ve been here two months.”
“I’m really sorry to have to do this,” Rick continues. “But—”
“But unfortunately it didn’t work out the way we had planned.” Ted raises his voice, finishing off Rick’s sentence.
“What didn’t work out? I’m missing something here. You still didn’t give me reasons for letting me go,” Eileen pushes. “I think I deserve an explanation.”
“Technically, we don’t have to give you one,” Ted says.
“That’s not fair, is it?” Eileen retorts. “If I did something to influence your decision, although I don’t know what that possibly could be, I have the right to know, don’t I? I’ve been pretty honest with you and instructed the team the best way I know how, and without warning you tell me I’m done?”
Ted presses his lips together. All Eileen can see are his bushy eyebrows that sprout in all directions.
“Did I not do a good enough job?”
“No, that’s not it. I wish I could tell you different,” Ted says. “You know how this business is. It’s not about feelings, and it’s about sacrifice. We need to do what’s best for the team—that’s the sacrifice. If we worried about personal feelings, we would have a lousy hockey club, now wouldn’t we?”
Eileen chooses her words carefully, not wanting them to come back to haunt her later in life when she has other hockey opportunities, if that is at all possible.
“So, let me get this straight,” she says, controlling each breath. “Just so I understand where you are coming from. You’re telling me I didn’t do a good enough job? Is that it?” she asks, looking at their numb faces. “If I didn’t do a great job, tell me. Don’t you think I should know? I think I deserve to know. You can’t get rid of so
meone and expect not to give them a reason.”
“Eileen?” Rick speaks up. “You did a good job. You are doing a good job—”
“Now you’ve just confused me. I’m doing a good job, yet you need to get rid of me? I don’t think my skills have anything to do with my termination.”
“You’re right,” Rick agrees.
“I think I’m damn good at what I do. I instruct skills that are worthy in a game situation. I work one-on-one with players, giving them tips and suggestions. I encourage and expect only the best from each of them, I—”
“Eileen?” Rick says.
“I study the game and work with other coaches to master a particular skill—”
“Eileen?”
“I’m always looking for more interesting ways to teach and I love to share the skills I have with others.”
“Eileen,” Rick says again, but this time in a more assertive and direct tone that grabs her attention.
She looks at him, closing her mouth and fluttering her eyes, waiting for him to tell her if she doesn’t leave now, security will be here shortly to haul her out of the building. Oh, no, this is it. This is when he’s going to tell me it’s unprofessional to have a relationship with a coworker.
“Ritchie’s coming back to work,” he tells her.
Her stomach flips with anticipation at the realization she is no longer a part of the team. “I thought he was taking at least eight weeks off,” she reminds them.
“Yes, but it’s his decision,” Ted chimes in.
“I didn’t know,” she says softly. “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? That is good news. I’m glad he’s doing better with whatever family issues he had to deal with,” she says and then releases a smile with relief. “Please wish him all the best for me.”
Rick grins, his chubby cheeks dimpling and the creases under his eyes turn into craters.
“I’d like to call Ritchie and wish him well.” Eileen stands up, and the men all stand to signify that the meeting is over.
“I don’t know,” Rick says. “He might need some time to adjust.”
“Okay then, will do,” she says. “Thank you for the opportunity. I enjoyed working here.” She extends her hand to Rick, Steve, and then finally Ted. “Good luck in pre-season.”
She can’t get out of the building fast enough. Eileen heads downstairs, back to the rink to her parked car.
“Hey! Elle! Wait for me!” Ty yells as he spots her walking toward the exit.
Eileen stops and turns around. “Hey.”
“What was that all about?”
“What?” she asks.
“Upstairs,” he says, pointing up. “Is everything okay?”
“No, not really,” she admits, wondering if the situation changed because of the way Ty feels about her. “I was let go.”
“No way! Why? What did they say?”
“I guess Ritchie is coming back so I won’t be needed, which is strange because I was told he would be out for eight to twelve weeks.”
“Well, that’s good that he’s recovered so quickly.”
“Yeah,” Eileen says, nodding.
“Are you still up for a dinner tonight?” Ty asks.
“I don’t think I’m up for much—”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping you would join me for a drink and a decent Italian meal.”
“That sounds more like a date.”
His lips break into a smile. “I guess it can be.... It doesn’t have to be a secret anymore.”
“Not that it ever was,” she reminds him.
“What time can I pick you up?”
She thinks about it before answering and takes a breath. “Six o’clock will be fine.” She could use the night out.
“Okay, it’s a date,” he says, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes, it’s a date,” she agrees, smiling back.
They sit across from each other at an Italian restaurant, which smells of fresh herbs, red wine, and old cheese. They order pasta dishes that are the size of footballs and a jug of sangria.
“What are you going to do now?” Ty asks as he forks a bite of spaghetti, wrapping it around to make a ball before popping it into his mouth.
“I don’t know—continue teaching, focus on my hockey school,” she says with relaxed shoulders, taking her glass in her hand. “I would like to play on a team again, too. I miss that.”
He watches her trying to sip her drink, the piece of apple in her glass bobbing toward her mouth.
“I would like to refocus and take some time for myself. I haven’t done that yet since my parents passed away.”
“Maybe that would be good for you.”
“I think so,” she says, placing her empty glass down on the table.
Automatically, Ty reaches for the jug and fills up her glass. “For me, I either have a lot of people around me or nobody. It’s strange. Sometimes, when I am on the road, I look forward to an early night just so that I can have time for myself.”
“We all need it, time for ourselves. That’s how we keep our sanity. That’s when you discover things you love and want to pursue,” she says.
“And what have you discovered?”
She tilts her head to the side, thinking of what it is that keeps her going.
“I don’t need much to make me happy,” she says and takes a sip of her wine.
Ty’s eyes widen. “Oh, yeah? So, what makes you happy?”
“Walking dogs at the shelter, although I haven’t done that in weeks. I’ve had no time. But I love skating, teaching kids. Of course it’s a lot of fun. It’s rewarding. I also like to stay home and put my feet up, watch movies and order take-out.”
“Yeah, I like to stay home too, sometimes. Although I do like to cook on occasion.”
Eileen smiles.
“Will you miss working for the team?” he asks, forking a meatball.
“Of course! It was my dream job. And I do mean dream, since women don’t usually get these jobs.”
“No, they don’t,” he says. “How do you think our team looks for the new season?”
“You’re asking me?” she asks with a laugh.
“Yeah, your professional advice.”
“Well, I think your team has a lot of strengths. You all seem to work well together, especially on defense. I think that’s the team’s strength, which will really help since last season your poor goalies struggled, not because they’re not excellent goaltenders, but because it wasn’t much of a team effort.”
“This year feels pretty good. You know your uncle is a good guy. He’s really encouraged me. He’s a smart man. I guess that’s why he’s the senior adviser to Ted.”
“I’ve looked up to him since I was a kid. You can always count on him. He’s very dependable and will always give you an honest answer. I guess that’s where I get my say-it-how-it-is attitude.”
“You can tell you’re related.”
“You think we look alike?”
“No, not at all. But you both have strong personalities, and a soft heart.”
“You’ve only seen one side of me.” Eileen laughs, taking a bite of her saucy bow-tie pasta.
“No, I believe I’ve seen both sides now, and it makes me want to keep on your good side.”
She swallows her bite. “Come on, I’m not a bad person.”
“I never said you were. You’re just strong minded and you know what you want.”
For a moment, Eileen looks at Ty, his eyes glistening even through the dim light.
He reaches for her hand and gently holds her fingers in the palm of his hand. For the first time in a long time, she’s really relaxed with him. She no longer has to hide her feelings for Ty.
They stare into each other’s eyes for a moment in silence, and then Ty whispers, “We don’t have to keep quiet anymore.”
She laughs. “I was just thinking that.”
“Really?” He smiles, showing off his dimple.
“I guess I’m over the fact that I
am no longer a Warriors employee. No free hockey tickets this season,” she jokes.
“I’m sure between your uncle and myself, we can manage to get you into all the home games.”
She smiles. “It’s not the same. It would have been nice to earn my own,” she says, reaching for her glass with her other hand. “It’s not like I have a lot of spare time anyway. I don’t know how I managed without working for the team.”
“I don’t know either,” he agrees. “But you’ll manage.”
She swirls her glass around, watching the orange slice hardly move.
“You must like kids if you teach them.”
She grins, putting her glass down and thinking how happy her parents would have been if they could have one day seen her as a mother. “I do.”
“Do you want kids one day?” He takes the last sip of sangria and puts his empty glass down on the table.
“Yeah,” she says, meeting him eye to eye.
Ty grins. “How many?”
“Three or four.”
“Really?” he asks. His lips curl up as though he’s trying not to smile.
“At least three. I look forward to a family life,” she says. “Hopefully one day I can experience what my mom experienced with my brother and me. One day. I’m still living the city life though.”
“You and me both.”
After dinner, Ty drives Eileen home. She undoes her seat belt. “Thanks for the date. I really enjoyed it.”
“See? I’m not bad company,” he says with a warm smile.
He thumps his hands on the steering wheel. “So what does it mean for us?” he asks, looking over at her.
She pauses, glancing out of her side window. “I don’t know. I didn’t think we would see each other as often as we have.”
“You didn’t believe we could date, is that it?”
“To be honest, I didn’t think we would last this long.”
He undoes his seat belt and turns in her direction. “I like where this is going, don’t you?”
She studies his blond curl over one ear and his face, which is freshly shaven, revealing his rounded chin and a small scar on his cheekbone. Hockey is a rough sport, she thinks, but admires his competitive nature.
“So far—” But before she can say “so good,” Ty leans over. One of his hands brushes the side of her face, bringing her closer to his body. Eileen closes her eyes, feeling his soft, gentle lips on hers. He breaks away and she opens her eyes as their lips part.
His Game, Her Rules Page 18