Three Is The Luckiest Number

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Three Is The Luckiest Number Page 11

by Catherine Cloud


  “Stop acting like we lost the entire fucking series,” Elliot says.

  He’s so mad, he’s pretty sure he scores all the goals that follow out of spite. Two in the next game, another two in the third one, and after they win those two, the rest of the team catches on. They win the fourth, too.

  They drop the fifth, but this time the locker room isn’t as quiet as it was after the other loss. They’re taking it back to New York. They’re going to win in New York.

  Elliot scores the game winner, and just like that, they’re going to Round 2.

  They don’t make it past the Grizzlies, but this time nobody dares to even insinuate that they’re not good enough. They made it past Montreal, knocked out a serious contender, and when they do their exit interviews this year, Elliot doesn’t waste any time on talking about how they weren’t good enough.

  He talks about how hard his guys fought. He talks about how proud he is of them. How he can’t wait to do this all over again, hopefully minus losing the second round.

  Elliot takes his entire team out for dinner before they all leave town for the summer. He doesn’t like the thought that some of them won’t be back in the fall, despite their performance in the playoffs. It’s a good group.

  “Thanks, Moo,” Andreas says when he hugs him goodbye. “You know, for… everything.”

  “Thanks, Andi,” Elliot echoes.

  He watches Andreas and Evan walk away, nearly shoving each other into traffic as they leave.

  “They grow up so fast,” Adam says and throws an arm around Elliot. “Okay, listen, now that all the children are headed home, I need your help.”

  “Yeah? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, really,” Adam says. “I need your not-so-professional opinion. Are we too young to get married?”

  “I, uh…” Elliot hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know?”

  Adam is a year older than him, and even if he wasn’t, Elliot knows plenty of players his age who are engaged, even some who are married already. Most of those guys have been with their girlfriends since they were teenagers, though. Like Magnus. He met his wife when he was fifteen, but they didn’t get married until they were together for over ten years.

  “You’re not helping,” Adam says. “Have you never thought about it?”

  “Getting married?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I… No?”

  “I mean, you and Natalie have been dating for nearly two years, don’t you… I don’t know. Maybe I’m weird, but I started thinking about marrying Lou, like, two months after I first met her.”

  Elliot only blinks at him.

  “No, don’t look at me like that, oh no, Adam is being ridiculous again,” Adam says and slaps Elliot’s arm. Which kinda hurts because Elliot’s entire body is covered in bruises. “I just really love my girlfriend, Moo.”

  “I also love my girlfriend,” Elliot says and it comes out almost petulant.

  “Good for you.” Adam slaps Elliot’s back this time and it doesn’t hurt as much. “Can you help me with the ring?”

  “I’m not sure if you’re asking the right person for help.”

  Adam makes a face. “I don’t want help picking the ring, I want moral support.”

  “Oh.”

  “See, you’re exactly the right person for that.”

  Elliot can’t really argue with that. He is pretty good at the moral support thing.

  #

  It almost seems too easy how early the Knights clinch their playoff spot, how little they have to fight for home ice. Mattie is going to get the start during the first round, despite Blake sitting on the bench less often. There were some mumblings around the trade deadline, about Mattie getting traded, about the Knights having Blake as their starting goalie for good, but Mattie gets to stay. He might re-sign at the end of the season and Blake will likely be the Knights regular starter next season with Mattie as their backup. Or at least those are Mattie’s musings.

  Blake isn’t surprised when they give Mattie the nod for the first round of playoffs.

  They end up playing the Mariners and Blake and Noah still chirp back and forth, never really go silent, even though their texts become less frequent. They mostly talk about the weather, and food, and Noah’s insane neighbor. Not hockey, never hockey.

  The first game is going remarkably well for the Knights – after the first period they’re up 4-1. Blake isn’t one to be suspicious when things go too well, because that’s just life. Sometimes everything goes well. On other days everything goes to shit. Sometimes it’s both.

  On the day of their fifth playoff game, it’s definitely both.

  They have a chance to win this series, in front of their fans in Newark. All they need is one more win.

  Then, during the second, Mattie takes a knee to the head, one of the Mariners barreling into him, tripping in front of the net. It takes a while for Mattie to get up, the guys quiet as he walks down the tunnel, leaning heavily against one of their trainers.

  Blake tries not to think about what they’re looking at here. A concussion? Hopefully nothing worse. Whatever it is, Blake can’t think about it right now, he needs to make sure that they walk out of this with a win, one save after the other.

  The clock runs down and they win, only barely, after an empty netter with a score of 5-3. Three guys jump into Blake’s arms as soon as the final horn sounds, shouting into his ear.

  The next morning, it’s just Tanner and Blake on the ice, no Mattie in sight. One of the kids gets called up from the Raiders. Mattie has a concussion, will likely be out for a few weeks. No one says it out loud, but they all know it’s a bad one. “It’s all you now,” Tanner says to Blake. He’s not trying to scare Blake; he’s telling him the truth.

  They make it past the Comets in Round 2, take it to seven games, three of which end in overtime.

  Then it’s Round 3, Conference Finals, against the Grizzlies.

  They lose the first, win the second, win the third, lose the fourth, lose the fifth, and somehow manage a win in the sixth, in double OT, after which Blake is so tired that he wants to sleep for a fucking week. They lose Game 7 in Boston, fall to the Grizzlies, just like the Bobcats and the Ravens did.

  Blake knows that his grandma is in the crowd with Evan, and they both meet him after the game and Evan gives him a hug and says, “Sorry, man. Been there. Sucks.”

  Blake only nods and lets his grandma hug him, too.

  In the room, the guys are all quiet and subdued, although they keep patting Blake’s back as he moves around and when Kells talks to him later he says, lowly, “I hope you know that we wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

  He wasn’t really thinking about it.

  It’s nice to hear.

  Chapter Nine

  Blake is two months into his sixth season of playing professional hockey when things go to shit fast and unexpectedly.

  It’s a day off for the Knights because they just got back from a roadie in California and Nevada and he’s on his way home from the grocery store when his phone starts to ring. He almost ignores it, but then finds that it’s Aunt Beth – his grandma’s sister, so she isn’t really his aunt – and Aunt Beth never calls him, so he answers. “Aunt Beth? What’s up?”

  “Blake, honey,” Aunt Beth says and she sounds all choked up, which is when Blake knows that it’s bad, so, so bad, and he stops dead in the middle of the fucking sidewalk, someone walking into him, grumbling at him in passing.

  “What happened?” Blake asks.

  He must sound like he’s scared shitless. He is. This is his worst nightmare. Blake is already running through all the things that could have happened. His grandma tripped over one of the cats and hit her head, she fell down the stairs, had a car accident on the way to Aunt Beth’s house.

  Aunt Beth takes a breath on the other end of the line.

  “How bad is it?” Blake presses.

  “I got worried when she didn’t answer the door this
morning, we were going to have breakfast together, and you know how she keeps a key under that pot out front and… I found her. Blake, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.”

  “She’s…”

  “She didn’t wake up this morning.”

  Blake is going to– He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do. Throw up? Cry? He needs to go home. Not to his apartment, but to Norwalk. He needs to get Evan, then he needs to go home. Aunt Beth can’t take care of this alone and there’s no one else left, except for Aunt Beth’s kids who are nowhere even close to home.

  So he needs to go home, except he’s supposed to play a fucking hockey game tomorrow, so how the hell can he go home now?

  Do they let players go home when their grandparents die?

  “Will you…” Aunt Beth’s voice cracks. “Will you give your brother a call?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll… I’ll talk to…” Fuck, he doesn’t even know who to talk to about this. “I’ll see if we can come home, okay?”

  “Thank you, Blake. Give me a call when you know, will you?”

  Blake promises he will, hangs up the phone, and stands on the sidewalk for a moment longer, frozen to the spot.

  He doesn’t remember the night his parents died. Not well.

  He woke up in the morning, and he was at his grandma’s house with Evan, because his parents had been on a trip to Boston, and she told them that their dad was at the hospital. Told them that their mom didn’t make it. He doesn’t remember what exactly she said.

  Blake remembers endless days at the hospital, weeks, he would have sworn, but a few years ago his grandma told him, no, it was only five days after the accident that his dad died.

  He remembers the funeral, realizing that they weren’t coming back. But his grandma was there, Blake’s hand in hers, promising him that she’d always be there for them, and now she’s gone, too, and–

  He needs to go home.

  He calls Kells, because he doesn’t know if he should talk to Coach or if he should call their GM or whoever the fuck is in charge here. So he calls Kells, because Kells knows this kind of stuff.

  Kells answers after a few rings. “Fish? What’s up?”

  Blake doesn’t say anything for a moment, because he doesn’t remember how. He should have called Evan first. Not that Aunt Beth will; she doesn’t have to do this twice.

  “Everything okay?” Kells asks. He doesn’t sound concerned a lot. That probably means something.

  “I…” Blake squeezes his eyes shut. He can do this. “I need to go home.”

  “Okay,” Kells says, “did something happen?”

  “My grandma, she… she died last night.”

  “I’m so sorry, bud. I… Why don’t you give Coach a call? Tell him what happened, he’ll understand. You can go home, take care of everything. It’s okay. Don’t worry about the team, okay? Just do what you need to do.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t know who to call and… I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Call if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Kells.”

  Blake calls Coach Franklin next, talks himself into moving. When Coach Franklin answers his phone, sounding gruff, Blake somehow manages to choke out what happened. After that, Coach Franklin doesn’t sound so gruff anymore. His team knows that his parents are dead, they’ve all met his grandma, know that she basically raised him and his brother.

  Coach Franklin tells him to go, tells him to take all the time he needs. Blake thanks him, tells him that, yes, he’s okay to drive, apologizing for whatever inconvenience this is going to cause for the team. He almost cracks when Coach says that there’s no need to apologize, that they’re a family here and that they’ll always look out for him.

  By the time he’s hung up the phone, he’s back home. He texts Mattie to tell him he won’t be able to come over for lunch after all. He sends another text to Noah to tell him that he can’t come to his place tonight. He says it’s a family emergency and doesn’t wait for replies.

  He doesn’t know how the hell he’s keeping it together right now.

  He sits down and calls Evan.

  He doesn’t answer. He’s probably on the ice for practice. Blake sends him a text and asks him to call him back as soon as he can. He tells him that he doesn’t have good news.

  It takes about twenty minutes for his phone to ring, Evan’s voice small when he asks Blake what happened. Blake just says it. There’s nothing that could soften the blow, no gentle way of putting it. Fuck all those euphemisms; there’s nothing poetic about the death of someone you love.

  The way Evan’s voice cracks when he asks if they can go home almost does him in, but Blake makes it through that, too, and says, yes, they can go home. “Is Elliot there?” Blake asks.

  There’s some shuffling, then there’s Elliot’s voice, worried when he says, “Blake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your grandma?” Elliot asks.

  “Yeah,” Blake says again, quieter. He clears his throat. “Listen, can you… I don’t know, can you talk to your coaches, see if Evan can come home with me?”

  “Of course, whatever you need.”

  “I…” Blake squeezes his eyes shut. He’s at a total loss. He’s an adult, but no one ever taught him how to deal with this. “I’ll drive your way and you guys can give me a call when you’ve figured things out on your end?”

  “Sure.”

  “You guys at the rink?”

  “Yeah, we just got off the ice.”

  “Okay…” Blake lets out a deep breath. “Okay, so… I’ll be there in… Give me an hour? Are you still gonna be there in an hour?”

  “Yeah, we have lunch and meetings and… I’ll stick around with Evan,” Elliot says. “We’ll go talk to Coach Warren in a minute.”

  “Thank you,” Blake says. “Elliot…”

  “Yeah?”

  Blake doesn’t know what to say. They haven’t talked in such a long time and Elliot is still dropping everything to help them out. “Thank you,” Blake says again. That’s all he has in him right now.

  “Of course. We’ll give you a call when we’ve figured things out.”

  Ten minutes later, Blake has packed a bag and he’s in his car, headed for the Ravens’ practice rink.

  #

  When Evan started talking to Blake on the phone, Elliot pulled him out of the locker room, sensing that something was going on. He heard part of the conversation, then Evan handed him the phone and suddenly he was talking to Blake.

  They hash out the details, then Blake hangs up, already headed their way.

  Evan is still on the bench in the hallway that Elliot pushed him onto, silent, staring at Elliot like he wants to ask him for help and doesn’t know how. Elliot can’t say that he’s ever been in a situation like this, but he can handle it.

  “Do you need a minute?” Elliot asks.

  Evan nods.

  Elliot watches him take a deep breath, like he’s trying to keep himself from bursting into tears, and Elliot wants to tell him that it’s okay if he needs to cry, that no one’s going to judge him. Instead, he sits down next to him and waits for Evan to get it together enough that they can go find Coach Warren.

  He’s still holding Evan’s phone.

  They’d just gotten off the ice when Evan checked his phone and gave Blake a call. Both of them are mostly out of their pads. They need a shower, but that’s not the most pressing issue right now.

  “Do you want me to do the talking?” Elliot asks.

  Evan only nods.

  Elliot nods back at him, then interrupts a meeting to get Coach Warren. If there’s ever been a time for interruptions, it is right now. Coach Warren doesn’t look too happy with him at first, but is quick to get up when Elliot tells him that it’s an emergency. He explains the situation as quickly as he can – he’s pretty sure that Coach knows that both of Evan’s parents died when he was nine, but makes sure to mention it and Evan’s breath hitches the tiniest bit when he does.
<
br />   Coach tells them to consider it taken care of and asks, “You need anyone to drive you to the airport? Need us to book you a flight?”

  “His brother’s on his way, he’ll pick him up,” Elliot says.

  Coach nods. “Find Samuels something to eat, yeah?”

  Elliot tugs Evan away and calls Blake with Evan’s phone, tells him that Evan is good to go and that he’ll stay with him at the rink until Blake gets here.

  “Don’t speed,” Elliot says before he hangs up.

  “I’m not. Promise.”

  “Okay.” There’s something else Elliot should say, but he can’t think of the words right now. He almost wants to stay on the phone with Blake while he drives up here, which is ridiculous, so eventually he says, “We’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Yeah. Thank you.”

  Elliot wishes Blake would stop thanking him, like he’s making some huge sacrifice here.

  He ushers Evan into the showers first, because they both need one, then he marches Evan to the buffet, makes sure he gets a decent amount of food and nudges him over to a table. He wanders back over to get some water and some food for himself, which is when Adam sidles up to him, eyes narrowed.

  “Everything okay?” Adam asks, thankfully keeping his voice low.

  “Evan’s grandma died.”

  “Shit, isn’t he like… an orphan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, crap.”

  “Don’t…” Elliot looks around, at Evan, at the corner of the table that Elliot nudged him over to, poking at his food. “Tell the guys not to bug him, okay? But, like, do it quietly.”

  “Sure, no worries.”

  Elliot goes and sits with Evan, who doesn’t say a word. He puts Evan’s phone on the table, in case Blake calls them again, but the phone stays quiet and so does Evan. Elliot talks him into eating at least some of his food.

  “I’m okay,” Evan eventually says.

  Probably because Elliot has been staring at him. Elliot nods, even though Evan definitely doesn’t seem okay. It starts with the lack of constant word-vomit that’s pretty much Evan’s trademark, and then there’s that pinch to his mouth, replacing the usual easy smile that definitely doesn’t run in the family.

 

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