Christmas in the City II

by Samantha Chase

  “Most of the guys are away from their families, and some won’t even be able to travel home for Christmas because of our schedule. The kids could make them Christmas cards or gingerbread houses or something.”

  Hm. I have to admit, his idea has merit. In our tiny Colorado town, hockey is to our residents as football is to most Texans. It’s the only sport our high school has. Everyone plays at the local rink, even the girls. I was known for my mean slap shot back in the day. Many of our residents go pro in some capacity. Take Dean, for example. He went to college in Boston on a hockey scholarship, and now he plays for the Boulder Blizzard, a minor league team based in Boulder, about thirty minutes away from Holly Falls.

  The kids would probably love adopting their own hockey players. We could definitely make them Christmas cards, or holiday cards, if you will. They could cut out snowflakes and decorate them with glitter. We could even invite the players to the class party and have them make gingerbread houses together. Yes, Dean’s idea might actually be fantastic.

  “I think you’re on to something, brother.” I smile at him as he pours my coffee before sliding the mug across the table to me. I shake my head as he adds packet after packet of sugar to his coffee. Yuck. If hockey doesn’t rob him of his teeth, all that sugar will.

  “I’m full of good ideas, Bren.”

  “Uh-huh.” I take a sip of my coffee, bitter and black, just how I like it. “So who do I have to clear this with? I’m sure the school will be okay with it, but I’ll speak with them Monday morning.”

  “Probably the team’s PR people. But I’m sure they won’t have a problem. They love it when we get all philanthropic.”

  “Great. Get me the contact info and I’ll call them after I speak with the school. I’ve got less than a week to put this together before the kids will need to start working on their projects. I’ve got twenty-two kids; you’ve got twenty-two players, right?”

  “Yep, perfect match,” Dean nods, then turns his trademark smile on Sally as she places our plates in front of us. She blushes before ducking away.

  “You’re so bad,” I tell him as I sprinkle salt on my scrambled eggs.

  “What? The ladies love me. I can’t help that I’m gorgeous and a celebrity.”

  I roll my eyes. “And humble. Don’t forget to add humble to your list of stellar qualities.”

  “How can I forget?”

  We both fall silent as we devour our food. Betty’s Diner is a Holly Falls staple. It’s probably been around since the town was established in the early 1900s, and it has the absolute best diner food on the planet. The breakfast items are sensational.

  While I chew my eggs, bacon, and buttered toast, I make a mental checklist of what I need to do to make this project work. I bet the families would donate the supplies for the gingerbread houses. I have plenty of craft paper, glue, glitter, and crayons for the cards and snowflakes. All I really need to do is get the school on board, which is pretty much a non-issue, and the team, which may prove to be a little more challenging. But I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.

  After breakfast, I give my brother a hug goodbye, and he promises to text me the team’s PR contact information. He also promises to put in a good word for me.

  As I walk to my car, I think about something else I need to work on. The perfect Christmas prank. Each year, three of the members of my small family team up to pull a prank on the fourth, unsuspecting member. We always do it at Christmas time. Why? I have no idea. We’re just crazy like that. I make a mental note to think about it later.

  I get in my car and make my way through the snowy streets to the small cottage I purchased when I moved back to Holly Falls after graduating from the University of Colorado with my teaching degree.

  Yep, I’m that girl who ran back home after college. Having your heart broken into a thousand pieces will do that to a person.

  2

  As I’d suspected, my project idea was an easy sell to the school. They were all for my first grade students entertaining some local celebrities for the holidays. Of course, they wanted approval from the team itself, and that was my next step.

  Dean pulled through and texted over the team’s PR representative’s name and phone number. I have a call scheduled with her at 4:00. I rush home after class lets out, having asked one of the third grade teachers to take over my car line duties in exchange for hers tomorrow afternoon.

  I give my fat, calico cat, Alexander, a quick pet before setting myself up in my home office/guest room. I take out my notes and review them before picking up the phone to dial Wendy Bartlett, Director of Public Relations for the Boulder Blizzard.

  “Wendy Bartlett,” she answers with a take-no-prisoners tone.

  “Hello, Ms. Bartlett; this is Brenna Hunter.”

  “Hi, Brenna. Call me Wendy.” Her voice loses its cool edge, and now she sounds like she’s talking to a girlfriend.

  “Wendy, thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”

  “Dean told me about your plan, and I think it sounds great. The boys can always use some good PR, and I promise they will be on their best behavior.”

  Wait. What? “So the team is on board with this?”

  “I’m on board, and that’s what matters. When it comes to appearances like this, I tell them where to be and when to be there. I tell them what to wear and how to act. Besides, they’re like a bunch of kids themselves; I’m sure they’ll feel right at home hanging out with a class of seven-year-olds.”

  I laugh, knowing full well how right she is. I’ve spent quite a bit of time with my brother and his teammates over the years. Her assessment is spot on. I took a look at their roster while I was doing my research and some of them are still teenagers! It’s probably not hard to imagine a group of jocks aged eighteen to twenty-eight getting along fabulously with seven-year-olds.

  “That’s great news, Wendy. I really appreciate this. And I hope the guys don’t mind. The kids will make them cards and crafts, and then they’ll make gingerbread houses together at the party.”

  “I’ll prep them beforehand, but that all sounds like some harmless holiday fun. Just what these guys need. The party is next Friday, right?”

  “Yes,” I say after taking a quick look at my calendar. “It would be great if they could be there by 10:00.”

  “Well that’s perfect because they have an away game Wednesday and their last game before the holiday is home on Saturday night. I can get them out of practice for the event on Friday, assuming they’re on the ice for practice Saturday morning, so there shouldn’t be a conflict.”

  “I appreciate this so much. I have to admit, I thought I’d have more of a battle ahead of me to get you all on board.”

  “Like I said, the guys can always use some good PR. They aren’t troublemakers, not like some of the teams I’ve dealt with in the past. But male athletes tend to have a bad rep, so things like this are a no-brainer. Good, quick PR for the boys.”

  “That’s great. Thanks again.”

  “No problem. What’s the next step for the team?” Back to business, I guess.

  “Well, I’ve got a copy of the roster, but I’m not sure if all of them celebrate Christmas. I can have the kids stick to a general holiday theme for any players who celebrate something else. If you can get me the names of any players with other preferences, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem. You have twenty-three students in your class?”

  “Um, no. I have twenty-two.” I flip through the papers on my desk until I find the roster. One, two, three…twenty-two. There’s twenty-two players on the team. Dean confirmed it. That’s why this was so perfect. I already matched up all the kids to their players.

  “Oh. Well, we just had a new player join us. I haven’t sent out the press release yet, so it’s not exactly common knowledge. I trust you’ll keep this between us until I’ve done that.”

  “Of course,” I agree. I mean,
who can argue with this woman when she uses that tone?

  “Good. His name is Aaron Davis.” Aaron Davis, Aaron Davis, Aaron Davis. Nope, never heard of him. I quickly write his name down and make a mental note to Google him later. “He’ll be joining us this weekend, so right on time for the project. Will that be alright? I know you’re one kid short.”

  “I’ll work something out. It’s not a problem.” I’ll take on the new guy if I have to, just to keep things even. The kids are going to be so excited, I can’t possibly blow it just because we’re heavy one player.

  “Excellent. Well, it was a pleasure speaking with you, Brenna. I’ve got to run and take care of some things. I’ll send you over what you asked for regarding holiday preferences and if you have any other questions for me, just reach out.”

  “Thank you, Wendy. The kids are going to love this.”

  “My boys will be on their best behavior. It’ll be fun. We’ll talk soon, bye.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it for a moment before placing it back on the base. Is it really that simple? I’ve been stressing over this for forty-eight hours, and it’s settled in a twenty minute phone conversation? I look at the clock. Correction, a twelve minute conversation. I shake my head. Whatever. I’m not going to question it. I got what I wanted, now I need to do some research on this new player.

  I’m an avid hockey fan. Have been since I was a child. It’s hard living in Holly Falls and not being a fan of hockey. You pretty much can’t make it out of here without learning to skate with a hockey stick in your hand. In the summer, it’s the same only with rollerblades. Heck, most of us learned to skate while learning to walk. So color me surprised to learn there’s a new player on the closest semi-pro team to our little hamlet, and I’ve never heard of him.

  I open my internet browser and type in his name, ‘Aaron Davis.’ I like the way that sounds. Just kind of rolls off my tongue. I tap my finger against my desk as I wait for my five-point-slow megabyte internet to do its thing. Once the results list loads, I click the link to an article that mentions hockey, and an image immediately pops up.

  Whoa.

  Aaron Davis is hot.

  Like drool worthy, panty dropping, hot. Hott with two t’s hot.

  With hair so dark it almost appears black, blue eyes that sparkle like a tropical sea, and sharp, masculine features…he is the greatest specimen of man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  Too bad that’s all I’ll be laying on him since I’ve sworn off men forever.

  3

  “You wouldn’t believe the hunk of man candy that just got signed by the Blizzard,” I tell my best friend, Bailey, over the phone one week later. The press release Wendy promised went out over the weekend, so I’m finally able to speak freely about the man who has been the star of my most recent late night fantasies.

  “Oh, yeah? Do tell.” Bailey and I were roommates all four years at the University of Colorado. We were both in the teaching program and got along beautifully from day one. We’re so alike, only she doesn’t know the difference between offense and defense. She entertains my hockey chatter, especially regarding the men, but has no idea what I’m talking about most of the time.

  “He’s got these gorgeous blue eyes, high cheek bones, dark, messy hair, and a square jaw.” I lay sideways on my fluffy white couch and dangle my legs over the arm. It’s my comfy position, what can I say?

  “Like a Brad Pitt jaw?” She’s so Hollywood, always comparing people to celebrities.

  “Yeah, Bay, like a Brad Pitt jaw.”

  “Sounds dreamy.”

  “He totally is,” I say on a sigh, closing my eyes and picturing his gorgeous face again.

  “So what’s the story? He’s in on the class project?”

  “Yep. And he’s paired with me.”

  “Hold up. You’re not a student. How did that happen? Keeping the good ones to yourself? What kind of example are you setting, Bren?” I hear the laughter in her voice, so I know she’s only teasing.

  “You got me, Bay,” I laugh. “He was just added to the team last week. I’d already paired the kids off, and I’m one student short for their roster. If I double one kid up, the rest will get jealous, so I figured I’d take one for the team.”

  “Literally,” she laughs. “I’m sure it’s a hardship.”

  “I gotta do what I gotta do.”

  “You should do him,” she says.

  I flip myself around, sit up, and put both feet on the floor. “What?”

  “Oh, come on, Bren! You haven’t even pretended to be interested in a guy since—”

  “Don’t even say his name,” I interrupt, and I can almost feel her rolling her eyes through the phone.

  “It’s been three years, Brenna.”

  “You think that makes it okay?” I ask harshly, rising to my feet. “How much time, exactly, should go by before your boyfriend cheating on you becomes acceptable?”

  “Brenna, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not saying what Stephen did was okay. It was a shitty thing to do, and you can be pissed at him forever. Heck, I’m probably going to be pissed at him forever. I’m just saying that it’s time to get back on the horse.”

  I consider what she’s saying. Yes, it has been three years, but I’m still so very hurt over what Stephen did to me. We had a really good thing. A great thing…a love thing. We were together for three years, for Pete’s sake. Then I walk in on him screwing his “study partner.” I had no idea female anatomy was on his course load that last semester. He’d begged me to forgive him…gave me all the usual excuses, but in the end what’s done was done. I couldn’t trust him.

  And now I’m afraid to trust anyone.

  “I don’t think so, Bay. I’m not ready.”

  Bailey sighs. “You’ll never be ready if you don’t just put yourself out there. All I’m saying is that this is the first guy you’ve shown an interest in since ‘he who shall not be named.’ Maybe you should just try him on for size, see how things go. You don’t have to jump into a relationship with the guy. Just take him for a test drive, if you know what I mean.”

  I chew on my bottom lip. Her suggestion is ludicrous. “I don’t even know Aaron Davis. He might have a girlfriend.”

  “He’s single.”

  What? “How do you know that?”

  “Google. Says he’s one of the most eligible bachelors in Alaska.”

  Jeez. He’s from Alaska? “He might be gorgeous, Bay, but he might also have the personality of a wet mop.”

  “I didn’t say you had to talk to him.”

  “Bailey!”

  “What? You need to get laid, Brenna. Who cares if your students are smarter and more interesting than he is. With a body like that, he’s got to know how to use it. You always talk about hockey players being agile…well, test that theory!”

  Surprisingly, in all my dating history—which isn’t as extensive as one might think—I’ve never dated a hockey player. All the hockey players in my high school knew and feared my big brother, so they never made a play at me. Then at the end of freshman year of college I met Stephen. He was my only sexual experience. And he ruined me for all men—not in the good way.

  Maybe I could test that theory…

  “I’ll think about it.” I have to pull the phone away from my ear otherwise Bailey’s shrieks would have busted my eardrums. “Chill out, woman.”

  “I’m just so excited for you, Bren! You were right. He is one fine looking man, and I’ve got my fingers crossed that he’s as good in bed as he looks. I mean look at all those muscles.”

  I suddenly want to look at whatever she’s looking at. “What website are you on?”

  “You dirty girl,” she teases.

  “Website, Bay.”

  “Hockey Times. They did a spread on him. I bet you’d like to do a spread on him,” she taunts.

  “Oh, my god, Bay. That’s enough. I’m going to hang up on you.”

  “Se
e? It’s been three years, and it’s like you’re a virgin again. Your poor virgin ears,” she teases. “You need to get some, and I think Mr. Aaron Davis is a prime candidate.”

  I type, ‘Hockey Times Aaron Davis’ into the search engine and wait for the site to load. When his gorgeous face—and body—fills the screen, I begin to forget the reasons why getting involved with someone like him might be a bad idea.

  “I’m not sure it’s wise to get involved with one of my brother’s teammates,” I say, realizing that’s a pretty valid reason not to do something stupid.

  “Whatevs. Dean doesn’t have to know. I doubt Aaron would run and tell him.”

  “I know what these guys are like. I hear my brother’s stories. Some of them have women in every city. A guy that looks like Aaron Davis probably has multiple women in every city.”

  “So what? I’m talking about getting you laid, not marrying the guy. You’re thinking way too hard about a fling.”

  A fling…can I even do that?

  The more Bailey rattles on in my ear about all the reasons it’s a good idea, the more I believe her.

  I think I actually could have a fling with Aaron Davis.

  If he’ll have me…

  4

  As I’d suspected, my students were happy about the project. There are two Jewish players on the team, and the kids assigned to those players were excited they got to make special cards just for them. I announced the project on Monday afternoon; Tuesday we set aside time to work on their cards; Wednesday we worked on the crafts, and Thursday we decorated the classroom. Since we’re such a small school, we don’t have a separate art room, so by Thursday afternoon, my classroom looked like a glitter and confetti bomb had gone off in it. I’ll have a lot of fun cleaning it up after the party.

  On Friday morning, the classroom is buzzing with the anticipation of twenty-two seven year olds. I can’t get them to pay attention to the quick lesson I’m trying to squeeze in before the two week break, so we trek to the small school library where I let them each check out a book to read quietly until the players arrive. Needless to say, a fight almost breaks out over the hockey books, but I nip that in bud pretty quickly. Like I said, this town loves hockey, so there are plenty of hockey books to go around. Who knew all twenty-two kids would want one? With the help of the part-time librarian, we get it under control, and the kids are reading quietly back in the classroom when Dean catches my attention from the doorway.