April had been the best friend anyone could ask for. They’d met in high school and shared all their ups and downs, schoolwork, hassles with their mothers and with assorted boyfriends. Complaining about their jobs. And sharing so many good and fun times.
Greta loved her dearly, and still missed her.
She texted April back. “Pls call. Want to talk.” And apologize.
Greta knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep, and looked around her kitchen for something to eat. She found two bags of chips in her cabinet. The label said “low calorie,” so she ate both bags.
She found a hockey game, of all things, to watch on TV. It was the Western Conference Final between the Vancouver Canucks and the San Jose Sharks. Brandon had told her that series would be brutal, and no matter what team the Ice Bandits faced—assuming they’d beat Washington—it would be a battle royal for the Stanley Cup.
At the bottom of the screen, a final score flashed: Chicago 4, Washington 1.
Greta could follow the game better now, and watched as Vancouver tied the game at 2 goals apiece, and it went overtime. All these overtime games. That meant these teams were pretty evenly matched. If only she knew the game a bit better…
Her cell buzzed. April already?
“Miss u & yr talk abt gargoyle. Think 1 hit me.”
Then she knew Brandon would be all right.
Chapter 17.
“Your beard is really grown out, Zach.”
“Eat your heart out, Vyto. You wish you had all this.”
“When I see a big, full beard,” Vyto responded, “I wonder if there be little crawling things in that beard.”
“Hey, lazy bum.” Zach greeted Brandon as he entered the locker room. “When are you playing again? Don’t do us much good, sitting on the bench.”
“I wish I could play tonight. But I gotta be cleared. I want to do more than just ride the damn bike and skate around.”
Concussions were taken seriously by the Ice Bandits and every other team in the NHL. Brandon had to be checked out every day by the team physician, and had to be cleared by an independent doctor, before he could resume his place in the lineup.
“We need you to beat goddam Capitals.”
“I know that, Vyto. You think I want to just ride the stationary bike all day? I haven’t been cleared for non-contact practice. Not yet, anyway.”
One good thing about not being able to take part in heavy duty practice. He could spend more time with Greta. He found himself spending more and more time at her place. And they weren’t talking about hockey. They were discussing future plans.
Greta would be waiting for him after his light workout at the Arena and his latest checkup. She said she’d make early dinner for him, and they’d pick up their conversation right where they left off.
Brandon got a surprise that afternoon. The team doctor checked him out, evaluating just about every body part. He asked Brandon many questions. And the doctor kept looking into his eyes, watching them track, observing. And then he cleared Brandon to participate in non-contact practice.
“I know you want to get back to work, Brandon. It’s the Conference Final and all. But you can’t fake this. You can tell me you’re feeling better and up to playing, but your reactions don’t lie. After that bad hit you took, I’m surprised to see you are recovering so quickly.”
Tony Goldina got his first start in a playoff game since his days with the Penguins, on the line with Kyle and Mike. Tony was the first star of the game, scoring two goals and an assist. The Ice Bandits were ahead in their series three games to two, and were one win away from the Stanley Cup Final, against either San Jose or Vancouver. Their series was tied 3-3, and whoever won tonight would advance to the Final.
Greta had a lunch date one day that week that was not with Brandon. She took her friend April to lunch at a new place near downtown, where they served April’s favorite kind of food, barbecue. She told April to order as much and as many sides as she wanted.
When they met at the entrance of the restaurant, it was the first time they’d seen each other since the night of that Sox game.
They embraced. Greta told her, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too,” said April. “When I saw what happened to Brandon, I cried. I thought about you right away. I want you to know, I got your texts, and I came so close to just picking up the phone and calling you and trying to straighten things out.”
“You know what, April? I think we should just pick up where we left off. OK, we went to the White Sox game. It’s over. What’s new since then?”
“Well, I have a new job.”
“Really? How do you like it?”
“May I take your orders, ladies?” A waiter stood at the head of the long line of patrons. Customers would give their orders, find their seats, and their meals would be brought to them. It was the best way to take care of the many customers of this restaurant, the best barbecue joint in the area.
Greta ordered a pulled pork sandwich with extra fries, and April ordered a half slab of ribs with corn bread. A hostess found them a table in the back, where the girls could talk and not be bothered.
April told Greta about her new job, an Advanced Practice Nurse, in the Nursing Education department. “I make sure the staff on my units have all their inservices done. I make sure their licenses and CPR stay up-to-date. If there’s something new to learn, sometimes I give the inservice myself. I like it. It’s better than floor nursing, with that head nurse always on your back. And some of the patients could be difficult.”
Greta spoke of her job too, and the speech Mr. Blakely gave. She didn’t mention the old man and the gold coin.
But April did. “I read about you in the paper. How you made sure that old man got the full value for his coin. I almost called you then.”
“I hope we stay in business. Just before that happened, we had a meeting and the boss said things weren’t going well.”
“But I’m sure things are better now. There was a lot of good publicity. Would you want to do something else?”
“I like what I do. I always wanted to do this. I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
And the conversation turned to talk about dating and boyfriends. April wasn’t seeing anyone, but she knew Greta was. And she thought she knew how they met, at the hospital and then, at the baseball game.
“I feel bad about what happened,” Greta began. “I didn’t expect to meet anyone, much less at a baseball game.”
April looked at her friend. “Greta, don’t feel bad about it. You know, I might have done the same thing. When you meet someone special, you gotta go for it.”
“He is special. It was funny how we met.”
“You met in the hospital. I remember. You came to meet me for lunch, and…”
“We met before that, April. He came to the store looking for a gold ring. He gave it to some girl, or she stole it. I never got the whole story. And I threw him out.”
April laughed so hard, other customers turned to look at her. “That’s amazing! You threw him out of the store!”
“I never told my boss about that. Wonder what he’d say?”
Greta and April talked of work, old boyfriends, past times, and before they knew it, two hours had passed, and they were still picking at their food. They were so busy talking and getting caught up on each other’s lives, they’d hardly touched their barbecue.
They decided to finish when the waiters and hostess began glaring at them, as the line to get in stretched near the door.
Greta paid the tab, after a short argument with April. “I owe this to you.”
The girls found their way out of the crowded restaurant and walked to Greta’s car. “We have to do this again. You know what? Maybe we can go to a game. I’d love to sit with you during one of these playoffs.”
April’s eyes grew wide. “Playoff tickets? Greta, this is the hardest ticket in town to find. The Ice Bandits are on the verge of the Stanley Cup Finals.”
“I’ll get you
a ticket. I’ll ask Brandon. He’ll get you a ticket. No problem.”
The two friends embraced. “One more thing, Greta. Promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“Promise me you’ll invite me to your wedding.”
Greta’s mouth fell open. “April, I don’t know…”
“Well, I know. I know you guys have something special. And I’m glad. I’m happy for you.”
Chapter 18.
Both Greta and April were in the crowd the night the Ice Bandits beat the Capitals to advance to the Stanley Cup Final.
The Ice Bandits fans were jubilant and noisy. But not as jubilant as the players.
Brandon, soaked with sweat and breathing hard, celebrated with his teammates. Kyle had scored the winning goal, with an assist from Brandon. Tony scored one, and Mike scored two. Mike still wasn’t talking about his knee injury, but let his play do the talking.
The Ice Bandits and Capitals lined up and shook hands. A few of the players embraced. Greta thought that was a nice touch; she didn’t know any athletes did that. She spotted Brandon in the line, right behind Zach, and watched him shake hands with every member of the Capitals.
A group of men in suits presented Kyle with the Prince of Wales Trophy, for the Eastern Conference champions. Greta thought it was funny that Kyle wouldn’t touch it, as if he were afraid of it. Then she remembered Brandon’s tales of the many superstitions among hockey players.
Greta and April were separated in the massive crowd that jammed the Arena and would not leave. The fans couldn’t get enough of their heroes. The entire Ice Bandits team came out to the ice and held their sticks high, in a salute to their devoted fans.
Brandon didn’t talk much. He and Zach kept looking at each other, not quite believing all the fuss and adoration they were getting. Even in the locker room, the atmosphere was not that noisy or chaotic.
The team was saving that for the night they won the Cup.
Greta finally caught up with Brandon an hour and a half after the game ended. She embraced him and congratulated him.
He smiled a weary smile. “Our biggest job is ahead.”
Fans still milled about the players’ parking lot as Greta drove away with Brandon. Someone—she couldn’t make out who—was signing autographs.
Brandon stared ahead at the street and didn’t talk. Greta guessed he was too tired to say anything. Then he spoke: “We leave for San Jose tomorrow. They have home ice advantage. Crazy schedule.” He scratched his playoff beard, more scraggly than ever, and pushed back his long hair.
It was their last night together for awhile. Greta stayed at Brandon’s.
They remained in bed till late the next morning.
“Hey, Greta. Question for you.”
“What is it?”
“I want to buy you something nice after all this is over. All you’ve done for me. Putting up with my crazy schedule. I want to buy you something. Name it.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Brandon.”
“You must want something. Come on. If I were Santa Claus, and it was Christmas, what would you ask for?”
“I could use a new digital gauge.”
Brandon sat up in bed. “A what?”
“A digital gauge. I use it in my work. Mine is old.”
He laughed. “That’s all you want? I was thinking of a vacation, a trip somewhere. Or a fur coat. Or a fancy dress. Think about it while I’m in California.”
“I wish I could go with.”
“So do I.” He reached for her. They embraced and kissed, clinging to each other, savoring their time together, a peaceful interlude in the middle of all the pressure.
San Jose had the advantage, and won the first game on home ice, 3-2. The Ice Bandits won the second game in overtime, and were set to come home for the next three games.
Chapter 19.
Greta woke up that morning alone in her bed.
She blinked, and looked again.
Brandon wasn’t next to her. He wasn’t in the room.
He couldn’t have gone out this early. Practice wasn’t till later this morning. And she had planned to fix a big breakfast.
A loud bang in the kitchen, and Brandon’s voice, “Shit!”
Greta climbed out of bed and walked to the kitchen.
Brandon stood over a frying pan that was upside down on the floor, surrounded by half-cooked scrambled eggs. “I wanted to surprise you, and cook you breakfast.”
She had to laugh. “This is something my mother would do. More than once, she knocked over a pan or dropped a bowl when she was cooking.”
Greta surveyed the damage. “It’s all right, Brandon. I don’t expect you to do anything today. Just go to practice. Big night tonight.”
“Big night” was an understatement. The Chicago Ice Bandits were up three games to one against San Jose. If they won tonight, the Stanley Cup was theirs. And in front of the home crowd, all those wild Ice Bandits fans.
Brandon had spent every free minute in Chicago, how few they were, with Greta, either at his place or hers. She mentioned that she brought him good luck, but Brandon knew it was more than good luck. He still knew he’d give her the gold ring, but he didn’t know exactly when.
He wanted to lift that silver Cup before he popped the question.
“Let me clean this up. You go get ready for practice.”
The morning skate and practice would be well attended by national media and whatever fans could get in, and Ice Bandits fans were a determined bunch.
While Brandon was gone, Greta straightened up the apartment and made her bed carefully. If all went according to plan, they wouldn’t sleep in that bed tonight. They’d be celebrating all night and into the next morning.
Greta’s heart shook as she contemplated the day’s, and evening’s, events. Brandon’s big dream was about to come true. And she wanted Brandon and his team to win. She saw first hand how hard he worked. How the intensity and sheer physicality of the games left him drained. He told her of his years making his game the best it could be, how his coaches continued to coax the very best effort out of him. And sometimes it just wasn’t good enough.
Whatever team lost put everything they had into their game too.
Greta looked at the clock, for the first of dozens of times that day. Time would pass slowly this day. Until the puck dropped at seven that night. And she’d be there.
Nothing short of a tornado would keep her away, and maybe that wouldn’t stop her either.
Her phone jangled.
“Hi, hon. May I speak to Brandon?”
“Ma, he’s not here. Why do you want him?”
“I need someone to unclog my toilet. I dropped a washcloth down the toilet, and it flushed, and now it’s all stuck. Am I glad I didn’t buy a new toilet! Why do I do such stupid things?”
Greta burst out laughing. “A washcloth? Ma, I think you should have used toilet paper!”
“Don’t get smart, Greta. This is serious. What if I get the runs?”
“Ma, I think you should call a plumber. Brandon is a hockey player.”
Mother blew a big sigh. “Look, Greta. You’re serious about that guy. I know you are. You can’t tell me otherwise.”
“But why do you think…”
“Greta, if you’re going to spend your life with that guy, he should know how to unstop a toilet!”
Ma was the second person to assume Greta and Brandon were a permanent couple.
The Ice Bandits practiced, with Coach Jock leading them, talking to the newsguys and radio broadcasters, as any team on the verge of winning the Cup would. It was almost like any other game day. The guys talked and laughed and the trainers checked out their various aches and pains. Mike DeBerry swore he felt fine, but he stayed with the trainer for quite some time, and his entire right leg was wrapped up and braced tightly.
Vyto spent a lot of time in front of his locker, checking and re-checking his sweater and all his gear. He spoke to himself in Lithuanian.
Bra
ndon and Zach didn’t say much. Kyle walked around talking to everyone, as a good team captain should. But Brandon was listening to his own private talk. He always had his own way of talking to himself before a game, but this was not just another game.
If the Ice Bandits lost this game, they’d return to San Jose. But the Sharks were almost unbeatable at home. And Brandon wanted to win in front of their fans.
One fan in particular.
Brandon sent her a short text, “I’m here. Staying till game over.”
He and Zach, and a few others, didn’t bother going home for a rest or a short nap. No naps today. Maybe no sleep tonight.
Greta took her time getting ready for the game. She managed to snag an extra ticket for April, who had been a fan for years, and was beyond excited about this game. April had an old Ice Bandits sweater with an old-timer’s name and number on it. Greta wore the #48 sweater Brandon had given her.
April arrived, wearing her Ice Bandits sweater with an old-timer’s name on it. She’d been a fan for years, but tonight was her first Stanley Cup Final game. Greta offered her a drink, but she declined. “We can drink plenty of beer tonight at the Arena.”
A big white limo came to pick up the girls at five-thirty. Greta wished it had come even earlier, since traffic would no doubt be gridlocked. Puck drop was set for seven, but it would be later than that, with the introductions and all the fuss.
The girls gaped at the big crowds of people, all decked out in ice blue and silver, all hoping to see a win tonight. Fans without tickets stood around the entrances, hoping to buy overpriced tickets or sneak in. But there was so much security, Greta thought, that would be impossible.
Greta could always spot Brandon right away. And there he was, skating to center ice for his introduction, with his teammates. The fans yelled so loud, the entire building seemed to quake. Greta wondered how Brandon felt at this moment, what he was thinking, if he was nervous.
A local singer sang the Anthem, with the fans cheering throughout. And then the game began. The puck dropped, and the Ice Bandits took possession.
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