Icebreaker

by Deirdre Martin

  “You did it, Cap!” David Hewson exclaimed. “You showed them what integrity looks like.”

  “Fuckin’ A,” said Eric Mitchell.

  “Old-time hockey!” whooped Jason Mitchell.

  Unprompted, the team started chanting, “Old-time hockey! Old-time hockey!”

  “I wanna say something,” Esa Saari said loudly. The players exchanged surprised glances. They all knew that Adam had torn Saari a new one at the start of the season. They also knew that it seemed to have a positive effect on their egotistical teammate: he was never late for practice, and he played as hard during practice drills as he did on the ice. He’d become a more generous player as well: it wasn’t all about him showing off his extraordinary talent anymore; it was about using that talent to help build a winning team.

  The team waited. Saari was looking at Adam with unabashed admiration.

  “I know you and I didn’t exactly get off on the right foot at the start of the season. I was an arrogant little prick. I thought I was better than everyone else, and that the Blades should have felt grateful to have me.

  “But you helped me realize that I wasn’t showing proper respect for the game, as well as my teammates. Watching you, listening to you, I learned how to be a team player, and how important that is to winning. I’m not gonna lie: I thought your style of play was archaic when I first got here. Now I realize that we need a leader like you to win: someone who’s willing to play his guts out every game, someone with integrity who refused to kowtow to the league.”

  Saari stepped forward, extending a hand for Adam to shake. “It’s an honor to play with you, Captain,” he said humbly, trying not to choke up. “It’s an honor for all of us. Thank you.”

  Adam shook the young Finn’s hand. “You’re welcome.”

  At that moment, Adam admired Saari. He knew how hard it must have been for him to say all those things; the young kid turned out to have character.

  Adam looked around the locker room. “You all know I’m not big on speeches. But I have to tell you all that your support during the lawsuit meant a lot to me. That’s what teammates do: they watch each other’s backs. This is a special team, the best one I’ve ever been a part of. If we keep our commitment to each other, we’ll make it deep into the playoffs. And if we win the Cup ... we will all be brothers forever. Now get dressed and get your sorry asses onto the ice to warm up. We have a game to play.”

  33

  Sinead often worked in the office until nine or ten, but tonight she was utterly drained. Of course, that fell by the wayside when she tuned in to the Blades pregame press conference. Adam didn’t seem the least bit taciturn, though she could tell he was uncomfortable. It amused her that Lou Capesi was wearing yet another stained tie. He just didn’t give a damn. As someone who always had to dress impeccably, she envied him.

  Adam looked so handsome standing there beside Lou. Years ago, Kidco had instituted a policy that players had to wear jackets and ties before all games, both home and away. The players all hated it, but it did lend a more professional style to the team.

  She ordered in Chinese and sat in front of the TV, mindlessly surfing. But then, she put the remote down. Oh my God, she thought incredulously. I want to watch the game. It wasn’t that she’d become a hockey fan; she wanted to watch Adam. And thanks to him, she now understood how the game was played. You’re pathetic, she told herself.

  The first period was just about to end (the Blades were up 1-0 against New Jersey) when her cell rang. “Hell,” she muttered to herself. “Never a moment’s peace.” She softened when she saw it was Maggie calling.

  “Hey, you,” she said cheerily.

  “Neenee.” Maggie was crying. “I need your help.”

  Sinead was alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need you to watch Charlie. Brendan”—Maggie took a deep breath to collect herself—“sawed his left pinky off. He and his crew were rushing to cut some sheets of wood, and to make things go faster they took the safety guard off the saw, and—” Maggie broke down.

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Sinead grabbed her purse and hurried downstairs to catch a cab. Her parents were in Ireland for two weeks, which was no doubt why Maggie called her. Please let them be able to reattach his pinky. This is Manhattan; some of the best hand surgeons in the world have to be here.

  The cab ride over to her sister’s house seemed to take forever. Sinead was convinced that the traffic gods were against her: the congestion was denser than usual, and contrary to the reputation of New York cabbies, hers seemed to be in no hurry. She knew it was insane to think all of this was happening on purpose, but that’s how it felt. Maggie needed her now; she wanted to be there already, goddammit.

  Pulling up to Maggie’s house, she paid and told the cabbie to wait because there would be another fare for him to take back to the city. Maggie looked anxious as she stood by the front door, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her face red and puffy from crying.

  Sinead was breathless as she flew onto Maggie’s porch. “I got here as soon as I could.”

  “Thank you,” Maggie said tearfully. “Thank you so much.”

  “Don’t be silly, Mags. This is what family is for.”

  “He’s at Saint Luke’s,” said Maggie. “One of the top hand surgeons in the world is there.”

  “Go. Hurry up.”

  “Charlie’s been fed, and he’s in the playpen in the living room. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  “Don’t worry about me. Just worry about you.”

  “I love you, Neenee,” Maggie said as she bounded down the porch steps.

  “Love you, too.”

  Sinead closed the door behind her, mouth dry. She hated that she couldn’t do more for her sister.

  Steeling herself, she walked into the living room to be with Charlie, who was sitting in the playpen, happily playing with a set of soft, stuffed blocks.

  “Hey, Charlie,” she cooed cheerily.

  Charlie looked at her. His bottom lip began to quiver. When he began to wail, Sinead didn’t know whether to leave him in the playpen or try to calm him by rocking him in her lap. She decided to do an experiment, making monkey noises while tapping herself lightly on the top of the head. Charlie’s tears came to a gulping, sniffling halt. He grinned at her, and then he began to giggle.

  Sinead found herself smiling, too, as she began pulling a variety of funny faces and making silly noises. Charlie loved it, his tinkling laughter one of the most delightful sounds she’d ever heard. She bounced Charlie on her lap. She puffed up her cheeks and let him “pop” them. She sang him a few kiddie standards: “Three Blind Mice,” “Old MacDonald.” And witnessing his joy, feeling his warm little body against hers so relaxed and secure, Sinead had a revelation that took her breath away: it wasn’t just that she was unwilling to give up career advancement to raise a child. It was also that she was unwilling to make that sacrifice for Chip.

  It was stunning. She was so sure she loved Chip until they started fighting over the child issue. But maybe she didn’t love him enough. Perhaps she knew deep down inside that he didn’t respect her enough to be a real partner, and she would always be the one expected to compromise because of his sense of entitlement. Maybe, subconsciously, she’d been looking for a way out of the marriage.

  “More!”

  Sinead didn’t realize that she’d stopped bouncing and being silly. “Sorry, buddy.” She resumed entertaining her nephew, but her mind was still roiling. Adam had said he didn’t think Chip was asking too much, and she had reacted with lightning-quick vehemence. She was furious when he’d said family was more important than career. She agreed with him; she just hadn’t realized until now that giving up her career was something she wasn’t willing to do for Chip.

  She pulled her cell out of her bag, staring at it. Should she call Adam and ask for a second chance? Hadn’t he told her that her decision was premature and that she was overreacting? Obviously he’d been willing t
o discuss the issue further as she charged out of his apartment like a crazy person.

  “What should I do, Charlie?” Sinead asked her nephew with a forlorn sigh. “I know the law better than I can read men. I’m scared.” She buried her nose in his soft curls. “You know what your aunt Neenee is?” She started squawking like a chicken. Charlie laughed delightedly. If only life were that simple, Sinead thought enviously. But maybe it could be.

  It felt like a small miracle when she finally got Charlie to go to sleep. She was restlessly waiting for Maggie to call. The longer the night dragged on, the more worried she became.

  Finally, close to midnight, Maggie trudged wearily through the front door. Sinead ran out to meet her in the hallway. “Well?”

  “They were able to reattach his pinky.” Maggie looked exhausted. “His whole crew was there waiting with me.”

  She peeled off her jacket, hanging it on the newel post at the bottom of the stairs, and sank down on the couch. “God, I hate hospitals.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Sinead sank down beside her. “Do you want me to stay the night?”

  Maggie looked touched. “You don’t have to.”

  “You sure? It’s no problem.”

  Maggie smiled wearily. “We’ll be fine.” She put her hand to her mouth, covering a big yawn. “You want a beer or something? I really need to unwind a little before I go to bed.”

  “That would be great.”

  Maggie headed for the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with two glasses of Harp. She handed Sinead her glass.

  “Thanks.” Sinead gulped some down, amazed at how good it tasted sliding down her throat. “Hits the spot.”

  She noticed Maggie’s hands were shaking. Sinead reached out to still them. “It’s going to be okay,” she said gently.

  “Yes and no,” Maggie replied, her eyes welling up.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m so embarrassed. We’re so stupid.”

  “Tell me,” Sinead pressed.

  “Of course I’m relieved they were able to reattach Brendan’s finger. But we’ve got no health insurance.” She began to cry in earnest. “You must think we’re idiots.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Actually, that’s not one hundred percent accurate,” she said with a sniff, swiping at her eyes. “Charlie and I are covered. Brendan isn’t. It was cheaper that way. You know him: ‘Don’t worry, don’t worry, things will be fine.’ Like he’s superhuman.”

  Sinead squeezed her hand tight. “Oh, Mags.”

  “It gets worse,” Maggie returned despairingly. “He’s self-employed, and again, to keep costs down, he decided to forgo workman’s comp for himself—especially since he covers his crew.”

  “Mags—”

  “Don’t say it.”

  “I will say it, and if you don’t listen to me, I will think you’re stupid. I’m going to pay Brendan’s hospital bills, and I’m going to pay for insurance coverage for him that includes workman’s comp. It’s insane for him not to have any.”

  Maggie was shaking her head vehemently. “He won’t go for it.”

  “He will go for it, because I’m going to tell him straight-out that his family will be majorly screwed if he doesn’t get coverage for himself. I’ll ask him: does he really want to do that to you and Charlie? Has he thought about what would happen if anything serious happened to him? He was lucky.”

  Maggie swiped at her nose. “It still might not work.”

  “Oh, it’ll work, believe me. That man loves you and Charlie more than life itself. If it makes it more palatable, I’ll tell him it’s a loan—speaking of which, you never talked to him about my original offer, did you?”

  “No,” Maggie admitted sheepishly.

  “It’s okay. What matters is that I’m here to help right now. And if Brendan says he’s not going to accept it, I will kick his ass from here to kingdom come, so help me God.”

  Maggie managed a smile. “Thank you, Neenee.”

  Sinead hugged her. “You don’t have to thank me. Ever.”

  Maggie took a sip of beer. “God, you never know what’s waiting for you when you get up in the morning, do you?” She sniffled again. “Enough of me and my woes. What’s up with you? I’m sorry I interrupted you at work.”

  “I wasn’t at work. I was home stuffing my face with steamed dumplings. Celebrating. I won Adam’s case.”

  “Congratulations!” Maggie looked guilty. “You shouldn’t be here covering for me! You should be out celebrating! I’m so sorry.”

  “You’re being silly. I actually celebrated at Met Gar earlier today.” She swallowed nervously. “So of course I saw Adam.”

  “And—?”

  “It felt weird. He was so grateful, and he even kissed me on the cheek. I could tell he was kinda still attracted to me.”

  “But.”

  “There’s still that roadblock in my head. The ‘I agree with Chip’ issue. I’m so confused.”

  Maggie squeezed her knee. “My turn to listen. What is it?”

  Sinead groaned. “I don’t want to dump this on you now; you’ve got enough on your plate.”

  “No, please, dump. I welcome the distraction.” Maggie took a sip of beer. “Seriously.”

  “I had this realization while I was watching Charlie tonight. I know, that sounds crazy—”

  “It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”

  “We actually bonded,” Sinead said happily. “I made him laugh, and he cuddled with me . . . he didn’t even make a fuss when I put him down.”

  Maggie’s gaze was gentle. “And so?”

  “I realized that my reaction had to do with Chip. If Adam asked me to stay home with a child, I wouldn’t have reacted so vehemently.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Wow. I mean, wow.”

  “I know,” said Sinead, digging her knuckles deep into the back of her neck.

  “What happens now?”

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, ‘Nothing’?”

  Sinead was torn up with misery. “I just can’t face the thought of rejection. What if I tell him I made a mistake, and he doesn’t want me?”

  “That doesn’t seem very likely.”

  “When I broke up with him, he told me I was overreacting and that my decision was premature.”

  “Maybe it was.”

  “I don’t know.” Sinead knew she sounded whiny but couldn’t help it. “I think about the night I broke up with him, and obviously I wasn’t reacting to Adam, I was reacting to what I’d gone through with Chip. I don’t think I even gave Adam a chance to talk.”

  “So talk to him now.”

  “I’m afraid,” Sinead confessed.

  “You?”

  “Gimme a break. You know I’m bad at this relationship stuff.”

  “It’s because you’ve never put relationships first, Nee. That’s not a criticism; it’s just a fact.”

  “Well, he’s the same way!”

  “Is he?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe.” Sinead resumed rubbing her neck. “I think this might be a bad time. The Blades are making a serious run for the Cup. He probably wants to pour all his energy into that now that he doesn’t have to worry about the lawsuit.”

  “Oh, so now you know what he thinks and feels? Quite a feat.”

  Sinead scowled. “Don’t mock me.”

  “Well, don’t be Miss Roadblock.”

  “I have to think about this.”

  “Stop thinking. Just do.”

  “I will, I will. In my own time.”

  “Well, don’t leave it too long. He’s a good guy; someone else will snap him up.”

  “Thanks,” Sinead said sarcastically.

  “You’re welcome. Now let’s veg out in front of the TV. I really need to relax.”

  34

  You jocks are pathetic. The longer you let it go, the slimmer the chances she’ll take you back.

  Anthony’s voice in Adam’s head felt like eagle talons digging int
o his skull as he sat on his couch, eating milk and cookies. Yeah, yeah, he wasn’t supposed to be eating junk, his body was a temple, blah blah blah. But right now, his brain didn’t care. All he could think about was Sinead.

  The Blades won tonight, and it was sweet—until he came to his empty apartment, and his brain began hammering away at him the way it had been for weeks. It’d been saying things he didn’t want to hear but that he knew were true: winning the Cup wasn’t everything. Hockey wasn’t everything. Being a hockey player gave him more satisfaction and joy than he ever could have imagined. But if you stripped it down to its barest bones, the hard truth was that hockey was his career, one that would be coming to an end in the next few years.

  Sinead. Shit. He shouldn’t have let her just quit them and run out. But he was shocked. And then he was pissed, too proud to go to her. Wait till after you win the Cup.

  But then he thought: Wait for what? For his life to actually begin? If his playing had suddenly become sharper now that they’d split, that would be one thing. But it hadn’t. He was playing the way he always had; he was also playing with guys, Ty Gallagher included, who’d managed to win the Cup even though they had wives, girlfriends, children. The “eat, sleep, and breathe hockey” mantra was bullshit. Maybe rookies needed to hear it to keep their focus. But he was no rookie. He was a veteran player who was going to be alone the rest of his life unless he put things in proper perspective, and fast.

  He drained his glass of milk. Screw the late hour. Screw waking her up. He was going to state his case now. If she thought he was nuts, so be it. It was time to stop living in some imaginary future. If he wanted her, he had to show her. Now.

  “I’m not sure I can do that, Mr. Perry.”

  Adam stood at the reception desk in the lobby of Sinead’s apartment building, trying to reason with the night doorman. He wanted to surprise Sinead. Rocco (Rocco the Rotund, Sinead called him) didn’t want to let him up to her apartment.

  “Rocco, you know me, right? Just let me up.”