Not a Player (Laketown Hockey Book 1)

by A. J. Wynter

  I hopped off the bench and joined Leo, Tanner, Mike, and Justin on the ice. Almost my dream line, but I hated to admit it, we sure could’ve used Dylan.

  After Tanner won the faceoff, the sound of the crowd morphed into white noise and the movement of the puck went into slow-motion. I felt like I could not only see but sense where all my guys were on the rink at that moment. A Predators player checked Leo into the boards, but not before he backhanded the puck to Tanner. I smacked my stick on the ice and Tanner wound up for the slapshot, but I knew he was going to fake it.

  He did and I was ready for it.

  I went into autopilot, winding up as the puck lifted slightly off the ice and headed towards me. I was known for my fake shots, but today, I took it. The goalie’s water bottle jumped into the air like it had been electrocuted as the puck smashed into the net. The crowd thundered, the goal siren screamed, and as Leo and Tanner surrounded me, yelling and screaming, the bass from the sound system blared, reverberating in my chest. The rest of the team piled onto the ice and surrounded me. We had done it – we had won. I didn’t have my gold coin and I had played the best game of my life – and I only had one person to thank.

  I finally let myself glance up to the sea of spectators in the arena, and there she was. I knew that she was there. I could feel it in my bones, and I knew exactly where to find those green eyes in the audience. Her hands were clasped in front of her and she and her friend Paige were on their feet. Our eyes met and for the second time that night, the world went silent.

  How could it be that the best day of my life was also going to be the worst?

  After our celebration, we lined up along the blue line and Jake McManus presented us with the exhibition series gold medals. It wasn’t a cup or a major tournament, but we had played like it was, and I felt just as proud of that medal hanging around my neck as I did when I had skated with the Northern Professional League Cup held above my head.

  With the weight of the medal on my jersey, I glanced back to the stands, hoping to catch Jessie’s eyes one more time, but my heart sank when I saw that the seats were empty.

  With the speeches, showers, and dressing room celebrations behind us, we made our way down the cavernous hallway ready to meet the local press and sign autographs for a bunch of hockey crazy kids.

  Someone grabbed my arm. It was Dylan.

  “Did you do it yet?” he asked.

  “Can’t we just do a little celebrating right now?” I shook off his hand.

  “She’s here. Whatever you’re doing isn’t good enough.” He grabbed my arm again. “I hate it. I know you do too. But you’re going to have to hurt her. And hurt her so badly that she never wants to set foot in Laketown ever again.”

  “You know what Dylan? Maybe we should just trust Jessie to make the right decision for herself.”

  Dylan stepped in my path and crossed his arms. “You think the right thing is giving up her dreams to live in Laketown to be with you?”

  I wished that he weren’t right; Jessie wasn’t thinking straight. “Over my dead body,” I growled. “Jessie Moss is going to make the National Skating Team and go to the 2022 Olympics.”

  “Good.” Dylan stepped aside. “Now make sure that happens.”

  I felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn’t be the reason that Jessie wasn’t on the podium in Beijing. I was scared. I was about to give up the best thing that had ever happened to me and it felt like I was cutting off one of my arms. She had become a part of who I was. She was the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep and the first thing I wanted to do when I woke up in the morning was kiss the freckles on her cheeks. But this morning, my bed was empty. And I was a coward. I told myself that I was focused on the game but really, I was terrified of losing her. She deserved more than unanswered text messages. She deserved more than what I was about to do to her.

  Chapter 32 – Jessie

  “Ow,” I grimaced as I was elbowed in the gut by a ten-year-old trying to get a glimpse of the Otters as they left the rink. The crowd cheered as the team, smelling of fresh shampoo, made their way through the lobby.

  My heart swelled as I watched Kane. He was a patient man and signed autographs for every single kid that asked him. I knew that he had seen me in the stands, he looked right at me and I wiped my hands against my jeans, waiting for his eyes to meet mine again.

  My heart started to jackhammer when we got close enough that I could hear the tenor of his voice and the soft chuckle of his laugh. Finally, his eyes met mine over the top of a gaggle of Otters’ hat-wearing ten-year-olds, and my heart melted when he smiled.

  Everything was going to be okay.

  But as quickly as it came, the smile turned to a grimace - the sparkle gone from his eyes.

  “Hi.” I stood awkwardly in front of him, not knowing whether I should hug him in front of the team.

  “Hey.”

  Hey? He had never spoken to me so casually. I shoved my hands into my pockets, the fingertips of my right hand rubbing the edge of the gold coin in my pocket.

  “Nice skating.” My voice wavered.

  “Fitzy, come on,” Mike yelled as the rest of the team stampeded by, their hockey bags bumping and jostling against the entrance doors.

  “I’ve gotta...” he gestured with his thumb to the door.

  “You’ve gotta go,” I whispered.

  “See ya.”

  He didn’t even look at me, he just started to walk away.

  “You’re too good for that, Jess,” Paige whispered.

  I am too good for that.

  I bridged the gap between us. His forearm tensed within my grip and he stopped but didn’t turn to face me. “Kane.” My voice was stronger than I expected. “What’s going on?”

  His shoulders slumped and he turned but didn’t look me in the eye.

  “We can’t do this anymore,” he whispered.

  I knew that the words were coming, but they still got me like a caught toe-pick. “What do you mean, this?”

  He gestured to the side of the lobby with his head and I followed him to a quiet corner. “Does this have something to do with Dylan?” I whispered.

  “No,” he said quickly. Then tried to act casual. “I mean, no. It doesn’t have anything to do with Dylan.”

  “Then, Fitzy...” I reached for his hand. His body softened and he held my fingertips. “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s just...,” he stared up at the ceiling. “Fuck, Jess. I mean, I just can’t...” he paused as a group of people passed by, “do this. Us.”

  None of this made sense. “We can make it work. Paige told me I could get a job at Valerock. Fitzy...” I hated the way I sounded, pleading, but I felt like I was fighting for my life. I was holding onto the thing that meant the most in the world to me by a thread, one that I knew was about to get cut, and there wasn’t a thing in the world I could do to stop it.

  “No.” He pulled his hand from mine. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why?” Now the room was starting to tilt on its axis and the blue painted concrete walls were blurred through my tears. “Don’t you get it? I’m not leaving. I want to be with you, Kane. That’s all I want.”

  He brushed a tear from my face. “Please don’t cry.” I looked into his eyes and he finally met mine. “I’m no good for you.”

  “But you are, how can you not see that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me?” The tears that rolled down my face were heavy and fat.

  “Jessie.” The cold voice was back.

  I reached for his hands, but he took a step back – just out of my reach. I wiped the tears from my face, worried that we were making a scene. I had lost him. I could feel it in my bones. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be here. I’m going to take the job at Valerock anyway.”

  His eyes flashed with an anger I had never seen in him and he stepped close to me. “Jessie. We can’t be together. Ever.” He paused. He looked at the ground and when he looked at me again, his eyes were dar
k and cold. “I fucked Bronwyn last night.” His tone was sharp, and his words felt like a slap against my cheek.

  It was my turn to take a step back. He picked up his hockey bag and then pushed the metal door open so hard it smashed against the side of the building.

  The tilting Earth went fully on its side and the last thing remembered before the world went black, were Paige’s hands catching me under my arms.

  Chapter 33 – Kane

  I don’t cry.

  A week had passed since we won the exhibition game and I lost Jessie. And I had cried, no, sobbed – the kind of sobs that shook my whole body, every single day.

  The empty beer bottles rattled in the back of the Land Cruiser – I had forgotten that the bottle return was closed on Sunday, and slightly embarrassed by the number of empty bottles that had accumulated over just one week. Tanner had helped, but the majority of those empty bottles were from dulling the ache in my heart.

  Dammit. I cursed under my breath when I saw my dad’s car parked in the driveway. I wanted to wallow alone.

  “Hey, Dad,” I shouted as I bypassed the great room.

  “Hi,” he said. He was sitting in the porch swing.

  I backed up. Something was wrong with the tone of his voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the city?” He was staring out over the water, rocking in the porch swing. “Is everything okay, Dad?”

  His shoulders rose and then he let out a big sigh. “I’ve decided to leave Tiffany.”

  Finally.

  “Really, why?” I tried to hide the elation from my voice.

  “I don’t know how she hid it from me all these years.”

  “What?” I sat down in one of the wicker loveseats so I could see my dad’s face.

  “Her personality.” The side of his mouth turned up and he let out a light chuckle.

  Dad and Tiffany had been married for two years, and as far as I could remember, she was a total bitch from day one. “Um...” I rubbed the back of my neck, lost for words.

  “I just really miss your mom. Even after all these years. I thought that moving on would help - it didn’t.”

  I rested my elbows on my knees. “I miss her too.”

  In the distance, a loon called and my dad and I sat in silence. The memories I had of my mom were hazy. She died when I was five and my actual memories were like an old-fashioned slide show: flickery, grainy, and without sound.

  The swing creaked as my dad pushed against the painted floorboards with his bare foot. “This divorce is going to be brutal. I’m probably going to shack up here with you for the summer. If it doesn’t cramp your style too much.

  The Pine Hill keggers had worn thin a long time ago and having my dad home was a great excuse for the guys to find some other party house – probably Tanner’s.

  “I can move into the bunkie,” Dad offered.

  “Dad, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” I shook my head then smiled. “But don’t take it personally if I move into the Pinecone Cabin or maybe even the boathouse.”

  “I won’t. Want a beer?” Dad asked.

  “Sure, I can get it.” I popped into the kitchen, pulled a couple of Heinekens out of the fridge, and returned to the porch. We clinked bottles and drank in silence, the rain dripping off the leaves and onto the roof was the only sound until my phone rang.

  “It’s Coach.” I glanced at the screen as it buzzed on the glass table between us.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?” Dad picked it up and clicked the green button.

  “I guess I am now.” I took the phone.

  “Hello?”

  My dad stared at me as Coach Covington gave me the best news I’d had in days. I should’ve been jumping up and down, screaming, and hugging my dad. But instead, I just said, “Thanks, Coach.” And hung up the phone.

  “What was all that about?”

  “The scouts were at the game last week.”

  “And...” Dad slid to the edge of the swing.

  “And they asked me to join the informal training camp.” I took a sip of my beer and couldn’t believe that I didn’t feel anything.

  “I thought you were already in the camp.”

  “Dad.” I smiled a little, knowing that the news would make him proud. “Not the Otters’ camp – the Thunder.”

  “Holy shit!” Dad shot to his feet. “Kane!”

  “Easy, Dad. It’s just their training camp. The informal one. They usually invite one or two guys to practice with them.” It doesn’t mean anything.

  “Don’t you dare act like this isn’t a big deal.” Dad shook his finger at me. “Come on, we have to celebrate.” The news had brought my dad back to life. “I’m getting a divorce and my son is going to play with the New York Thunder!” He threw his arms up in the air.

  A stray piece of wicker was digging in my back, but I didn’t care. I let it poke me. “It’s just camp.”

  Dad lowered his hands from above his head and stared at me. “Kane. What’s up? You’ve worked your whole life for this, and you look like your dog just died.”

  I took a sip of my beer. “It’s good. I mean. I’m excited.”

  “You sure don’t look excited. What’s going on?”

  As a retired NHL player himself, my dad knew that this was big news, and it didn’t take a genius to read me. I had just been given the best news of my life, but it didn’t mean anything if I couldn’t pick up the phone and call Jessie. I opened my mouth to try to explain but didn’t know where to start.

  “Is it drugs?” My dad asked.

  “Dad, no.”

  “Then it’s a woman.” He sat down. “Out with it. Keeping that stuff inside will kill you.”

  I knew he wouldn’t let this go. “Dad, you remember that girl Jessie Moss?”

  “I do. Your skating coach, right?” He tipped his bottle at me. “Those lessons were worth their weight in gold.” He smiled and I saw the lightbulb go off over his head. For a shrewd businessman who spent his days reading people, sometimes he could be dense. “There was something more between you two, wasn’t there?”

  “Yeah.” I looked at the ground. “Dad, I did something bad. I mean, it was the right thing to do, but...” I shook my head and a lump formed in my throat, “it feels terrible.”

  “Dammit, Kane,” Dad seethed through his teeth. “I thought you knew better.”

  He thought I got her pregnant. “No. It’s not that, Dad. I do know better.”

  He exhaled loudly. “Well, then what is it? You just about gave me a heart attack. I’m not ready to be a grandpa.”

  “I fell in love with her.” The past tense sounded wrong. I whispered, “I’m in love with Jessie.”

  Dad nodded. “I could see that there was something between the two of you. So did Tiffany.”

  “That’s probably why she wanted me to take Bronwyn Yates to the gala so badly, and she was so rude to Jessie every time she saw her.”

  “Probably,” Dad agreed.

  “It was terrible. Tiffany was so mean to Jessie. I don’t know why she hated her so much.”

  “I think I do.” Dad set his beer on the table. “First of all, Tiffany is a money-hungry, social-climbing snob, and her stepson dating a Yates would have looked good to all of her country club friends.”

  “Who cares about that stuff?” I asked.

  “She does.” Dad shrugged. “Maybe it had something to do with the fact that your mom grew up in Laketown.”

  “My mom grew up here?” I sat up. This was news. “I thought that you two met at the sailing camp.”

  My dad smiled. “We did. She worked there cleaning the boats.” He stared out at the lake. “I’m sorry I brought that woman into your life. If she was rude to your girlfriend, I’ll apologize on her behalf.”

  If only it were that easy. It was time to tell him the whole story.

  “Jessie was going to give up her Olympic dreams to be with me. I couldn’t let her do it.”

  “Olympic?” Dad raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”


  “She was going to quit skating to be with me. She was insistent. Nothing I tried got through to her, so I told her a lie. One awful enough to make her hate me and get her the hell out of Laketown.”

  “Kane.” Dad pursed his lips. “There had to have been a better way.”

  “I wish there was.” My voice cracked.

  The loon called again, and this time another called back. Dad stood and collected the empty beer bottles. “Son, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, the kind of love that you two showed for each other doesn’t come along every day. She was willing to give up her dreams – for you.”

  “I—”

  “Let me finish.” Dad held up his empty hand. “And you. You could’ve been selfish. You could’ve let her give up her dreams, but you didn’t.”

  I stood. “Yeah, but I hurt her...” I paused and swallowed the ball in my throat, “and it’s eating me up inside.”

  My dad wasn’t an emotional man, and growing up I received plenty of atta-boy slaps on the back, so when he put his arm over my shoulders and squeezed me in tightly, I knew he understood what I was going through. “I miss her so much,” I whispered. “And she hates me.”

  Dad gave my shoulder one more squeeze and then we went back to staring out at the lake in silence, the rain had intensified from a few staccato drops on the roof to a full-on downpour. “Whoa,” Dad said as the rain was driven into the porch by the wind. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

  “I think I’ll stay out here,” I shivered as the mist clung to the hair on my arms and sat down.

  After Dad left, it could have been three minutes, or three hours, I can’t be sure, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. Jessie had been part of my life, and with her gone, my body didn’t seem to know how to operate.

  “Kane.” The screen door slid open and my dad poked his head out. “Dinner’s ready and a package came for you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I didn’t look at him and I felt him approach beside me.

  “Here.” He set a padded shipping envelope on the wicker table. “Come in before your dinner gets cold.”