Eva had tossed and turned the last few nights thinking about her future with Team USA. The knee sprain was another strike against her, another nail in the coffin of her playing days. She hadn’t been willing to admit it earlier, but Alison had been right to demote her from center to wing. The next stop was a demotion to the third or fourth line, where she’d only see a few minutes of ice each game, and if that happened, she was as good as done.
“I’m not the player I used to be. Not by a long shot. And when I come back, I’ll be even less so.”
“Bullshit. You’ll be as good as you were before the sprain, and it’ll still give you seven weeks before the Games begin.”
Eva took a long drink of water. “No. Alison was right. I don’t belong at center anymore and I don’t belong on the first line.”
Kathleen narrowed her eyes at Eva. “There’s no need for you to lose your confidence like this. You were playing amazingly well in that game right before you hurt your knee. You were the best player on either team.”
“I was the best player that night in spurts, but I’m not the best player or even among the three best players night in and night out anymore. I’m being a realist, Kath.”
“So what are you saying?”
Eva moved to a thick mat on the floor and lay on her back. “I’m saying I’ll crawl to the finish line, do whatever I can do to help the team win. But I’m not under any illusions anymore. I know I’ll be lucky to make it to the gold medal game intact.”
Kathleen joined Eva on an adjacent mat and began doing the same stomach crunches, although at a slower rate. “And how do you feel about that?”
“A little like I’ve been beaten before I’ve even started. But I’m not giving up.” Even to herself it was a hard thing to admit that her ego may have tricked her into thinking she could do this and do it well. But she was here now. And she would finish what she started.
“Good.” Kathleen paused before beginning another round of crunches. “And since we’re on the subject of how you feel about, er, things, how did you feel about running into Coach Hartling at the hospital?”
Eva lay back on her mat. Of course Kathleen knew about her long-ago relationship with Niki. They’d never talked about it, but it wasn’t a secret; she assumed everyone associated with the team knew about her and Niki. But Kathleen’s question seemed to be more than academic, judging by the sudden rosy tint to her cheeks.
“Why are you asking?”
“Honestly?” Kathleen shrugged. “Because I have a feeling maybe you never stopped being in love with her.”
Eva resumed her crunches, averting her eyes this time. “Where would you get an idea like that? I’ve never talked about her with you. I’ve never said anything about being in love with her.”
“I saw the way you looked at her. And the way she looked at you.”
Eva halted mid-crunch, swiped at a fresh drop of sweat at her temple and lay back down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I saw two people who share something that nobody else can touch. Like nobody or nothing else is there when the two of you share the same space. It’s like there’s only enough air in the room for the two of you.”
Eva’s gut reaction was to deny it, but she’d be lying. She sat up straight. “There’s nothing going on between us, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not sleeping with anybody but you.”
Kathleen’s smile had the weight of sadness to it, but her tone remained neutral. “I know you’re not. But I think we should stop.”
“What? Why?” And what did Niki have to do with anything? She’d been clear with Kathleen from the start that there were no strings, no expectations, that they would be friends who had sex sometimes, nothing more. Was Kathleen wanting more? Was that what this was about? “Are you jealous of Niki?”
Kathleen shook her head. “I’m not jealous. But I do need to get out of the way.”
Eva drained the last of the water in her bottle. “That’s ridiculous. Get out of the way of what?”
“Of two people who look like missiles heading straight for a midair collision.” Kathleen stood up and retrieved her towel from a nearby bench. “And I don’t want to be collateral damage.”
“Kath, wait.”
“I like you, Eva. Maybe a little too much, but not enough to compete with someone you’re still in love with.” She slung the towel around her neck and winked to show there were no hard feelings. “I enjoyed it. I enjoyed you, but just friends is for the best. I’ll see you around.”
Eva collapsed back on her mat. Someone I’m still in love with? No, Kathleen had it all wrong. She’d loved Niki once, fiercely. Would never forget Niki, because first loves were like that. And yes, Niki could still open her emotional floodgates, but she wasn’t in love with her anymore. Which was a huge relief, because if she was in love with her, she’d be in for a world of hurt.
Chapter Nine
Icing
Is your daughter going to be in Toronto for the games next weekend? I’d like to meet her if she is. That is, if she doesn’t mind being introduced to an enemy player. E.
Niki read the email from Eva a fourth time, because it took that many times to get over the shock of seeing her former lover pop up in her in-box. It came as a surprise that Eva had found her email address. She hit the reply button and bit her bottom lip.
Yes, she will be there. She’s very excited about it. I think she will be happy to meet an enemy player, though I’d keep an eye on my shins if I were you! She’s pretty competitive. And loyal. —N.H. P.S. Will you be playing?
Niki hit send before she could second-guess herself and returned to the rest of her in-box. It was only a moment before Eva replied.
I’ll keep my shin pads on when I meet her. I’ll only be practicing with the team, not playing yet. I’ll see you guys there! Bring her to our practice session and I can meet her afterward—you’ll be there scouting it anyway I assume.—E.
Niki sat back in her chair, needing to digest this new development. So. Eva wanted to meet Rory. She supposed it would be okay, since Rory was such a huge hockey fan and knew who Eva was and that she’d once been part of Niki’s past. Rory even had one of Eva’s hockey cards.
What was harder to fathom was why Eva wanted to involve herself in this area of Niki’s life. Were they friends now? Was Eva looking for something more? Niki certainly hoped not. A superficial friendship might be okay, but such a thing was iffy, especially as the Games inched closer. She didn’t want anyone, least of all the media, thinking she was associating with the enemy. It was a risky little game Eva seemed to be embarking on, yet Niki couldn’t deny the relief that came with no longer hating each other. It might even be possible to paper over some of the fissures of the past, close that broken circle by exchanging a few pleasantries now and again. It wouldn’t hurt anyway.
Niki didn’t write to Eva again or hear from her as the Toronto trip approached. She immersed herself in preparation for the two games—one against a university all-star team and the other against Team USA. She ran grueling practices, to the point where the team hated them and looked forward to getting on with the games.
She blew her whistle, its shrill squeal a skull piercer. It was the final practice before tomorrow’s plane ride to Toronto and the last chance for her players to perfect the new breakout system they’d been working on for a week.
“Come here, you guys.” She waited until they fell to their knees and formed a semicircle around her at the boards. On the glass behind her was a large whiteboard in the shape of a hockey rink. “I need the center circling deep, just to the side of our net. Here.” With a red dry erase marker, she indicated where she wanted the center to pick up the pass from the defenseman. “Then I want that winger here, so it’s a bang-bang play. One, two passes. Third pass is the far winger cutting over. Voilà, we’re out of our zone. But there can’t be any hesitation. It’s gotta be hard, it’s gotta be fast. Got it?” The players rose to their feet. “And remember everyone, this onl
y works if at least two of their forwards are in our zone pressuring us. If there’s only one pressuring us, then we carry it for a bit before we pass. Okay, let’s try it again.”
Niki watched her players go through the breakout drill another dozen times, until they had it down without flaws. Each time, the women executed it faster, to the point where the breakout was happening in two or three seconds and the players could pass and receive the puck without looking. She smiled and nodded at Lynn. Things couldn’t be running more smoothly.
“Okay, hit the showers, ladies. Good job today!”
“Well,” Lynn said, moving next to her as the players filed off the ice. “That should put the Americans on their heels.”
“I sure as hell hope so. If they can’t pin us in our end, we’re halfway to victory.”
“Guess we’ll find out in a couple of days if it works there as good as it’s working here.” Lynn hitched her chin in a clear challenge. “Race you around the rink once. Loser buys coffee.”
Niki threw her head back and laughed, letting let Lynn get a few strides on her. She’d always been able to leave Lynn in her dust.
* * *
The puck fell to the ice and Eva simultaneously angled her body into her opponent, which in this case was her teammate Dani, while drawing the puck away and to her side of the ice. The act of winning the faceoff happened in a split second, so fast were Eva’s hands and body movement.
“For fuck’s sake,” Dani exploded. “Why can’t I win a single fucking faceoff from you?”
Amanda Fox, the assistant coach who had already dropped the puck for them at least thirty times, grunted at Dani. “She’s the best there is, kid. Give it time.”
But Dani didn’t have time to be patient, not if she was to take over as the team’s number two center. Privately, Eva felt Dani was nowhere close to shouldering the burden and might never be good enough to play center, never mind on the top two lines. But Alison seemed to have her mind set, and Eva could either help or pout and watch her team lose the gold medal game.
“All right, let’s do it in slow motion,” Eva said. “You’ve got to be totally still right before the ref drops the puck. No wasted energy. Watch the ref’s hand, and as soon as it even begins to twitch in that downward motion, move your body sideways into your opponent. Like this. Use your stick at the same time to neutralize her stick.”
Eva was no coach; she didn’t know if Dani was ever going to get it, but over and over it they went until Dani began winning one in every ten drops against Eva. Ten percent against Eva, who was one of the best faceoff women in the world, meant about thirty percent against anybody else. Still insufficient, but better.
“Good,” she told Dani. “You’re starting to get it now. Keep at it.”
“Thanks,” Dani replied as they skated toward the gate that would lead them down the chute to the locker room—the rest of the team having quit practice ten minutes ago. “And hey. I’m sorry Coach put you on my wing instead of the other way around.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Eva mumbled. She would never admit to Dani that Alison was right.
She lingered in the shower, letting the hot needles of water pelt her back muscles. Her knee was coming along. She was up to full practices now, although still sporting a yellow jersey. She expected to be game ready in a couple more weeks, and it couldn’t come soon enough. Hanging back and watching the kids on the team do all the heavy lifting was something she could never get used to. Having the weight of the team on her shoulders drove her, made her the beast on the ice that she was.
Twenty minutes later, Eva slung a small backpack over her shoulder and headed to the arena lobby, unsure if Niki had brought Rory to the practice as she had suggested. She hadn’t spotted them in the stands.
“Are you Eva Caruso?”
The youthful voice belonged to a girl, about ten or eleven with long dark hair and eyelashes almost as long. She smiled shyly and held out a Team USA hockey puck.
“I am.” She went to the girl and the middle-aged woman standing beside her. “Hello there. Would you like me to sign that puck for you?”
“Yes, please.” From the back pocket of her jeans, the kid pulled out a silver Sharpie.
“Ah, I see you’ve come prepared.” Eva scrawled her signature and her jersey number, seventeen, over the USA logo. She handed the puck back to the girl. “And what’s your name?”
“Rory.”
“Wait. Are you Rory Hartling?” It sure as hell wasn’t Niki standing beside her, but Rory was an unusual name.
The girl nodded, her smile threatening to swallow her face. Eva shook her hand.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Rory. I’m old friends with your mom.”
“I know,” she said, tucking the signed puck into the front pocket of her Team Canada hoodie. “I play center. Like you.”
Eva appraised the girl more closely, shocked by what she saw. With her dark hair and eyes and her long deer-like legs, she looked more like Eva’s own kid or at least a niece. The resemblance was uncanny and she wondered if Niki thought so too. “Is that so? I’ll bet you’re awesome at it.”
The woman beside Rory stepped forward and offered her hand. “Hi. I’m Jenny King, Rory’s aunt. It’s nice to meet you, Eva.”
“How do you do? Are you the aunt Rory’s living with while Niki’s in Calgary?”
“I am.” She touched the back of Rory’s head. “She’s staying with Tim and me and our six-year-old son Steven for a few months.”
“And what’s your mom going to say about you having a signed puck from the enemy?” Eva teased.
Rory’s smile never wavered. “She won’t care. But she says she’s going to whip you guys.”
“Oh, she does, does she?”
“Yup, but I tell her that as long as you’re in the lineup, it won’t be easy.”
“What won’t be easy, sweetie?” Niki walked up to them, surprise flaring and vanishing quickly in her eyes.
“Our team beating Eva’s team.”
Niki glanced between the two, clearly sizing up this blossoming friendship and not liking it much if her fiercely pinched brows were any indication. But she kept her manners, which came as no surprise to Eva. Niki never lost her cool in public.
“Nothing good is ever easy, sweetheart.” She cocked her head at Eva. “So it’ll make it sweeter when we do beat you.”
“We’ll see about that,” Eva replied, meaning it but without a trace of combativeness. She liked Rory. And she liked the family unit Rory and Niki made together—the way they shared their own shorthand language, the intimacy and protectiveness with which Niki placed her arm around Rory’s shoulder. Eva had never wanted kids before. Had never wanted much of anything that didn’t include hockey or her renovation business in Traverse City. But now she wondered what being a mom would be like, how putting herself second would work. She’d never done that, and she wondered if being a mom could ever fill the void that would come with life after hockey. Maybe she’d ask Niki more about it sometime.
“Honey,” Niki said to Rory. “I have to go do some work to get ready for tonight’s game. Why don’t you and Aunt Jenny go back to the hotel, and I’ll meet you guys later for dinner, okay?”
“Okay,” Rory mumbled at her shoes. “Boring, stupid old hotel.”
“Hey,” Eva said. “Somebody gave me a couple of tickets this morning to the Hockey Hall of Fame. I don’t suppose you’d want to go with me, do you?” She raised her eyebrows at Rory, then Niki.
“Oh, yes, please! Can I go with Eva, Mom? Is that okay?”
Niki hesitated, cut a sharp look at Eva that said she was overstepping and better watch it. When Jenny broke the silence by saying she’d welcome the time alone to do some shopping at the Eaton Center, it did nothing to diminish Niki’s reluctance. And who could blame her? Eva was overstepping the boundaries with this little stunt. But the kid was bored and Eva had nothing better to do. And hell, she liked Rory.
“All right,” Niki finally sai
d. “But can you bring her back here by five o’clock? And I’ll need your cell phone number in case I need to reach you.”
“Of course.” They exchanged numbers before Eva turned to Rory. “C’mon, Rory. We can walk from here.”
Rory flocked to her side without a second glance back at her mother.
Chapter Ten
Bench Minor
Dinner was rushed because Niki needed to get back to the Air Canada Center for the game between her team and the university women all-stars. Her thoughts kept straying to her line combinations and the temptation to make further changes, but Rory’s constant praise for the Hockey Hall of Fame—and for Eva—was like a persistent and very annoying alarm clock that wouldn’t let her sleep.
“She’s super cool, Mom. And some of the people there even recognized her! She had to sign autographs and everything.”
“That’s nice, sweetie.”
Rory reached into her backpack under the table and pulled out a Team USA practice jersey. “Look what she gave me. And she autographed it too! I’m going to wear it at my next practice!”
Niki glanced at the yellow jersey with the big USA logo on the front. If Eva was giving it to Rory, it probably meant she was moving to a regular practice jersey, which meant she would be game ready very soon. “That was nice of her. But put it away, all right? We’re eating dinner.”
Rory squirmed in her seat. “And you know what else, Mom?”
Niki resisted a good eye-rolling. “What, sweetie?”
“Some of the other kids at the Hockey Hall of Fame thought Eva was my mom. Isn’t that cool?”
Niki halted as she was about to stuff truffle-infused mashed potatoes into her mouth and set her fork down with a loud clank. She exchanged a look with Jenny, who didn’t appear offended. But Niki certainly was. “Excuse me?” she said, her eyes laser beaming into her daughter’s.
Rory’s face flushed, and with those two words from her mother, she was crestfallen. “Sorry. Somebody said I look like her, that’s all.”
Delay of Game Page 7
