Play On

by Heather C. Myers

  “No, I agree,” Amanda said. “But that’s why I say be careful. Listen, I’m as romantic as the next person. I think one day, Alec’s going to meet that girl and he won’t know what to do with himself. But he has a history with the Girls, and even more than that, he has a history, albeit a very short one, with Faye. She doesn’t seem to like you all that much anyways, and you really don’t need to give her another reason to increase your ranking on her shit list.”

  “Trust me, I am not interested in Alec Schumacher,” Madison said. “Actually, I met this guy in my social psychology class.” Madison went on to tell her friend how she and Brady met, how they had a connection, and how silly she felt at the way her body reacted to his mere attention. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to say what’s going to happen, but…” She felt herself blushing once again. “But I hope something does, you know?”

  “He sounds like one of those rare species you don’t believe in until you actually see them,” Amanda said. “Like Big Foot. Or the Loch Ness Monster. And no one believes you because they haven’t seen it for themselves. Wow, a hot guy who seems super sweet, reads literature, and sat right next to you. It was like he chose you. You have to keep me informed about what happens, okay? Promise?”

  Madison threw her head back and laughed. Despite the fact that she and Amanda were pretty much polar opposites, she loved having a friend like Amanda to talk to. It helped her keep things balanced and also offered her another viewpoint on an issue, one she might not have previously considered. And it was always nice to have a bubbly friend she could discuss boys with.

  At that moment, Lara Stinson walked in wearing her usual black. A respectful hush came over the Girls.

  “Sit, sit,” Lara said, gesturing with her hands. The Girls followed her instructions, taking a seat in the crimson-carpeted meeting room. As they did so, Lara turned and began to wipe away plays Henry Wayne had scrawled out probably during intermission during the previous game. “Girls, let me start by thanking you for being here, especially with so little notice. Katella Hanson should be here soon, and then we’ll officially get started.”

  As Lara finished her sentence, Katella herself walked in. She gently closed the door behind her and walked to the front of the room. Madison noticed that she seemed dressed for work. Maybe she had just gotten off and rushed over here to give this meeting. The bun her hair was in had loosened, causing stray locks to frame her face. She wore a high-waisted skirt with a small slit in the back and a long-sleeved collared white shirt. She looked beautiful but exhausted, something Madison didn’t blame her for. On Katella’s feet was a pair of worn black flip flops, the only piece of her outfit that seemed mismatched.

  Madison smirked. In all likelihood, Katella had taken off the heels she probably wore to work and slipped on the sandals to make sure her feet didn’t continue to ache after eight hours on the job. Comfort in lieu of fashion. Madison’s kind of girl.

  “Sorry for my lateness,” Katella said, turning to the sitting Girls. “I’m not usually late, but the 55 is horrible right now.” The Girls nodded or murmured their assent. “Okay, so let’s get this meeting officially started. Firstly, thank you all for coming. Sorry this is on such short notice. In all actuality, this meeting should have happened sometime last month, but what with everything that had happened, that is happening, it got pushed back and it got pushed back again and then again. Somehow, this date and time managed to work, and for that, I’m grateful. So again, thanks.”

  Madison had to hand it to Katella, even though the young woman touched upon her grandfather’s death, her voice didn’t shake. Her eyes seemed to turn a blue-green color, but besides that, she really managed to keep it together. If something like this had happened to Madison, she’d probably be the same way, except maybe not as eloquent as Katella.

  “I know you’re probably wondering what this is about,” Katella began, and then turned to the white board. With her left hand, she began to write out the words Season Activities. “I guess before we discuss that, I should give you some quick background on me and what I do. My name is Katella Hanson, and I am Ken Brown’s granddaughter, Ken being the owner of the Gulls. Former owner, I should say.” There it was. A crack. Vulnerability. But then, just like a magician made rabbits disappear, her sadness was gone. “I apologize. Now my sister, Seraphina, is the owner. I have my own company that focuses on doing charity events for various corporations, celebrities, and sports teams, including the Newport Beach Seagulls. As such, I coordinate the event, what happens, who shows up, the theme or the message of the event, the venue, the catering, the music if there is any, that sort of thing. Normally, after every hockey season ends, I sit down with my grandfather and we discuss the events we want to do next season. What charities do we want to support? What should we do differently? How can we involve fans from all financial backgrounds? How can we incorporate the team players more? That sort of thing.

  “Well, I wasn’t able to do that last season with my grandfather due to a conflict in schedule, and I never got the chance to.” Another pause. Madison watched as Katella gritted her teeth, as though she had to physically force herself to carry on. “I managed to throw a real shitty ‘Day at the Beach’ together last minute because I was already working on the idea due to it being the first event the Gulls throw. By the way, let me apologize for the unoriginal concept of that event. Normally, there’s something more unique about it, even if it’s just the title.” More chuckles, more smiles. Katella seemed to have an easy time getting people to like her. “Well, besides that lame attempt at a charity event, there really is nothing left in the plans when it comes to these events. We have acquired four dates throughout the season to throw these events. Here, I’ll write them out.” She turned and wrote out Saturday, October 30, Wednesday, January 12, Friday, March 18, and Thursday, April 7.

  When she finished, she set the marker down on the banister and wiped her hands together. “Which is why I called this meeting,” she continued. “I understand that you’re all required to be at these events in order to show spirit and to get the fans pumped. To make people feel welcomed. And I thought that since you’re going to have to encourage excitement, you guys should be excited to be there as well. As you know, I have my hands tied with a lot of stuff but even so, these events are in my top three, priority wise. It’s just, I want you guys to have a say in what we do. I want you to help me coordinate. I promise that school for you guys will remain the most important factor in your life – after family of course – but I want to be upfront and say that this may mean there will be more meetings like this one called throughout the season since we’ll all be working together. However, I promise that unless something serious happens, I’ll be here and I’ll get everyone food, whether it’s breakfast, lunch, or dinner. So food will be taken care of; I just need you guys to get here. If you can’t make it for whatever reason, please let either me or Lara know as soon as you can.”

  Faye raised her hand and was promptly called on. “Do you know when these meetings will be so we can make sure we’re able to come?” she asked, her voice sweet.

  Madison and Amanda shared a look.

  “No, because it honestly depends on the Gulls’ season,” Katella replied. “But for now, let’s go with every Tuesday night at seven o’clock. If there is a game or an event or something along those lines, we’ll reschedule.” She knelt down and grabbed something out of her bag. “Here. I’m passing out a clipboard with a sheet on it. I need every Girl to give me your full name, the phone number I can best reach you at, and the e-mail address you check on a constant basis. Most likely, if I have to reschedule or have to call an unscheduled meeting, I’ll shoot you guys an e-mail, so please make sure you check on a fairly consistent basis.”

  Katella handed the clipboard to Erica, the Girl closest to her, and stood back up. “Now, when I say I need your help, I really mean it,” she said with a smile. “I would love to hear your suggestions about what we should do for the remaining four events. Obvio
usly, there’s the traditional A Night Out with the Gulls, where we went out The Canary and everyone dresses up and people get a chance to meet the players on January twelfth, and then there’s the Casino Night on April seventh. But we need two more ideas, and we need ideas for catering, dress code, games and activities, that sort of thing for every event. I’d like all of you to go home tonight and jot down suggestions that come to you. We could do a day at Disneyland, a fashion show, that sort of thing. But remember we have an event coming up next month that we need to figure out. I think there’s an away game next Tuesday, so let’s plan to meet Monday night, here, at seven. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know. If you have any questions, let me know. I’ll be here for another fifteen minutes or so. Again, thank you for coming.”

  Madison, along with the rest of the Girls, all stand up. Some are chatting rather admirable while a few seem annoyed at the extra work they have to participate in. Interestingly enough, Madison found that she was looking forward to putting her two cents in something as admirable as a charity event. In fact, she had an idea tittering around in her mind, but it had nothing to do with charity and it didn’t coincide with the four dates Katella had written down.

  “I’m going to take off,” Amanda said, squeezing Madison’s arm. “Keep me updated on the whole B situation, if you know what I mean.” She winked and gave her friend a thumb’s up.

  Madison chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Absolutely,” she said before turning and heading over to Katella. The blonde was wiping down the white board, and Madison was surprised no one else ventured over to her.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, shocked at how timid her voice came out timid. Katella turned and when she saw Madison, she offered the brunette a warm smile. “I’m Madison Montgomery. This is my first year as a Gulls Girl. I know that you’ve probably heard this a thousand times, but I’m sorry for your loss. I heard a lot of admirable things about Ken, about your grandfather, and I was thinking…” She paused in order to catch her breath. Madison had no idea why she was talking so fast; it wasn’t like she was talking to Brady or someone like that. But Katella seemed friendly. Maybe Madison wanted the older woman to like her. Which was ridiculous unto itself. “Um, this isn’t actually a suggestion about an event or anything like that, but I was thinking that maybe there was an event that the fans could participate in to honor him.” When she finished, she sucked in air, waiting for Katella to respond.

  “That’s actually a really good idea,” Katella said after a long moment. She paused and then looked Madison in the eye. “Madison, right? Did you know my grandfather at all?”

  “I only met him once,” Madison replied. “During the interview process. I remember being surprised when he requested my transcripts.”

  Katella smiled a nostalgic smile. “Yeah, he liked to be involved in everything,” she said softly. It looked as though tears were going to form in her forest green eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. “Madison, I think that’s a good idea. I know a lot of people would love to be a part of doing something to commemorate his memory. Maybe you could think of how to do that and let me know next meeting? I’ll definitely write down some ideas too.”

  Madison nodded and smiled. After wishing both Katella and Lara good night, she headed up the stairs. It felt as though this was a new chapter in her life that she was looking forward to.

  16. Because she didn’t get any work done the previous day, Seraphina sat in the dining room in the house she shared with her sister, financial books and her grandfather’s planner scattered across the dining table. Since Katella was at Sea Side Ice Palace throwing an event meeting with the Gulls Girls, Seraphina thought it was the perfect opportunity to get some things done without the possibility of any distractions. She had her hair pulled from her face in a loose, messy bun, sweatpants, and a baggy t-shirt. Her face was free of makeup, as it usually was, and there was a barely-touched glass of ice water sweating off to the side. If she was being honest, she couldn’t remember the last time she ate today. But if she was hungry, she didn’t have an appetite for anything in particular. Currently, she had the end of the pen between her teeth, her brow scrunched – which no doubt would leave permanent wrinkles due to the fact she had been doing a lot of furrowing lately – her fingers dug into her hair.

  “Why couldn’t you have just kept a journal, Papa?” she murmured once again to no one in particular. “It really would have made my life so much easier.”

  There were so many questions she didn’t have answers to, such as whether her grandfather really did want to sell the team. Her gut told her that there was no way he did or else he would have mandated that it be sold in his will. However, she remembered that he wanted to spend more time with both she and Katella, especially since Seraphina had just graduated and would therefore have more free time to do so. He even talked about the three of them heading over to Europe for the summer, but things came up on both Katella and Papa’s part that prevented them from doing so. He talked about doing something during the winter, but even Seraphina, who didn’t know anything about hockey, knew that despite the holidays that made up December didn’t mean hockey was on holiday as well.

  But did wanting to spend more time with the two of them mean that Papa was going to sell?

  Logically, it made sense. But… Papa didn’t need the money and he loved hockey and he loved his team. And Papa loved to work. It gave him a sense of purpose, something to do. He always told her that he knew people his age, some younger, some older, that would kill to have something to do at their age. Especially something they loved.

  However, Seraphina also knew that there were aspects of her grandfather that even she did not know about. He never talked about the disputes she was certain he had with both Ryan and Alan. He never told her about his fears if he had them. He never told her about any problems he had regarding the team. He never told her when he was stressed or worried or upset. In that way, he was the sisters’ strength, the rock they could lean on no matter what, but he never allowed them to be his rock. In that way, he seemed to prefer his solitude. Which meant that there were things he thought about, decisions he made, that Seraphina didn’t know about.

  Which meant there was a chance – however slight it might be – that he was considering stepping down as the owner of the Gulls. Did that mean he was going to sell the team? No. But maybe he wouldn’t devote as much time to it as he had been.

  Another question that had been running through her mind was whether Papa wanted to trade Brandon Thorpe or not. This one wasn’t as clear cut as the previous one (and that question wasn’t as easy to decipher as Seraphina originally thought) and it was more difficult for her to reason through the possible answers because she was afraid she might be biased.

  Seraphina liked Brandon Thorpe. Yes, he was arrogant and self-righteous, but he was good and with his skill as a goaltender, he had reason to be. He was straight forward and honest, controlled and cool. And very, very good looking. At least to Seraphina.

  It was difficult for her to set her observations aside and look at this question as rationally as she could. She knew her grandfather well and she knew how he viewed people like Brandon Thorpe. Papa didn’t want to sign guys who were simply good; he wanted to sign and play guys who wanted nothing more than to play, who played because they had to, they wanted nothing to, because they enjoyed the game, because they had passion for it. He wanted to sign guys who loved not only the game but their teammates and viewed the team as a surrogate family. He wanted bright, determined players on his team, who never put their individuality above what was best for the team. It was loyalty. That was the most important trait Papa looked for in a potential player.

  Seraphina believed that Thorpe had it when Papa first signed him. He had to have, or Papa wouldn’t have even considered him. But something happened. Thorpe didn’t just get good, he got better until he was practically the best, and as such, he wanted compensation for being the best, regardless of the loyalty he might or might still have for
his team. Which forced Papa to figure out if Thorpe was worth keeping. Yes, he was good, but would his big-headed presence compromise the ethics Papa had built the team upon?

  She rolled her shoulders back, feeling an ache begin in the middle of her back.

  Seraphina wanted to say that it didn’t matter how good Thorpe was; if Thorpe was going to demand more money, Papa wouldn’t sign the player. But there had to be more to it; there always was. If Papa looked for loyalty in his players than that meant Papa also had a strong loyalty for them. He wouldn’t just get rid of Thorpe without at least talking to him about it, maybe think of some sort of compromise. Hell, Papa had even come to her and asked her about it without, of course, naming names. Seraphina’s gut told her that he had yet to actually make a decision regarding the matter, especially after finding out from Thorpe that he had yet to talk to her grandfather about it directly.

  “Man…” She released her hair so she could rub the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Time to stop thinking about things you don’t know. You’ll just keep going around and around.”

  Seraphina sat up straight and reached for her grandfather’s most recent financial book and decided to look through it. Again. Bringing it closer to her, she sighed, wanting nothing more than to call it a night and go to bed. But she had to this.

  There had to be something there.

  She looked at the estimated budget for this season, yawning as she took the number in. It still amazed her how much money went in to financing a hockey team. And the budget didn’t just include the team, coaches, and staff salaries, it included merchandise and event budgets. It was in line with the previous season, which meant Thorpe’s demand really was last minute. That, or Papa really was planning on trading him.