Penalty Play

by Lynda Aicher

  *

  The snow was still falling, its persistent dusting slowly accumulating into a thin layer on the ground. Music played through the expensive sound system in Henrik’s luxury car, a soft background of alternative rock that Jacqui liked.

  Henrik had picked her up for the concert, looking gorgeous in his designer suit. Her mother had gushed over them both before sending them out the door with a promise that the family would be there. They always were.

  The ring of her cell phone was a jarring note into the calm she’d finally managed to find. Two days of waiting for her test results had been a trial of patience and banked nerves.

  Her hands were a sudden shaking mess, making her scramble through her purse more cumbersome that it should’ve been. Her heart froze then raced when she saw her oncologist’s name displayed on her phone screen.

  For a brief second she was tempted not to answer. To put off the knowing for a bit longer. And that would solve nothing.

  She glanced at Henrik, his strong profile backlit by the street lights, and swiped the screen to answer. “Hello.”

  “Jacqui. Dr. Olmstead here.”

  “I know.” Her answer was abrupt, given she’d known the man for over twelve years. “I’m guessing the test results are back.”

  “They are.” His tone was professional, which had her fear rising. She closed her eyes, breath held, blood rushing in her ears, and waited. “All your tests came back negative for cancer.” Negative. The word stuttered through her mind, hitching on the meaning. Negative. “I requested additional blood work and scan based on a suspicion I had.”

  Damn it. Her short-won relief was shot down by that one sentence. “And?”

  “Stop worrying, Jacqui.”

  She slumped back in the car seat, tears rolling down her cheeks with her relief. “You’re sure,” she managed to ask. “Absolutely?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But the stomach pain,” she insisted, rubbing the sore spot, thinking of how cancer metastasized to other parts of the body. “And the nose bleeds and bone pain?”

  “The additional blood test was to confirm what the new scan showed. You have an ulcer. That’s all. A condition that can usually be treated with medication. As for the other things, dry air, and you’re working too hard.”

  “An ulcer?” The doubts still festered and leaked into her voice. “You’re sure. That’s it?”

  “I’m referring you to a gastroenterologist for further treatment, but the antibodies for the bacterium that causes a peptic ulcer are present in your blood work.”

  “An ulcer,” she stated, reinforcing the facts in her mind. “I don’t have cancer again.”

  “Your blood levels are normal, and the scans showed no signs of cancer in your body.

  “Oh my God.” She squeezed her eyes closed, the truth finally sinking in. “Thank you.” The hours of waiting had been worth it. She didn’t have cancer.

  “You’re welcome. This is the kind of news I love to deliver.”

  She stared at her darkened phone screen for another minute, the reality settling around her. “I’m cancer free,” she said, looking up to stare at Henrik. “I’m cancer free.” The trembling overtook her then, encompassing her entire body before he enveloped her in a tight hug.

  “Thank God.” His voice was rough with the same emotion that scrambled through her. Relief and joy and so much more.

  She hugged him back, absorbing his solidity, her own thanks going out to the Universe in a rapid cycle.

  His kiss was grounding and warm when he found her lips, a shared joy for another chance. She took it, reveled in it and gave it back until the world and all her fears spun away.

  She had no idea how long it’d been before he sat back, thumbs wiping the tears from her cheeks. His own eyes were bright in the dim light, his smile one of relief. Only then did she notice he’d pulled over into a parking lot. That was how zoned out she’d been.

  “I’m going to be late,” she said, her heart finally beginning to slow.

  “You don’t have cancer. I think they’ll understand if you’re a little late.”

  “No,” she insisted, beaming, happiness exploding from her with the release of the extra weight she’d been carrying around for months. “I need to play.”

  His smile said he understood exactly what she meant. He gave her one last quick kiss and shifted the car into gear. “Then I’d better hurry.”

  She whipped down the visor, checked her makeup in the mirror and wiped away the remnants of her tears. It was time for this nightmare of hers to be over. Long past time that she remembered that cancer was her past, not her future. There was always a chance of it coming back, but she wasn’t going to let her fears control her anymore—let cancer control her.

  She turned to Henrik, pride overflowing at the honest, decent man he was. And he loved her. He was her future, and she was determined to live every second of it in the moment instead of holding back, afraid of what might be.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The last piece of the concert came to a close, the notes fading into the rafters as the applause rang out. Jacqui’s grin was still firmly in place, her heart almost too full to handle the absolute rightness that was buzzing inside her.

  She stood, took a bow with the rest of the musicians and tried to spot Henrik in the audience. There were more people than expected in attendance with some even standing along the back wall. The school’s auditorium wasn’t huge, but she’d never seen it this full before.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” A deep voice boomed over the sound system, a hush descending as the president of the school stepped onto the stage. Jacqui followed the cue of the other students and exited the stage to let the man have his say.

  The darkness in the wings made it hard to see after the bright lights of the stage. Jacqui followed along behind the others, working their way to the dressing area until a hand around her wrist tugged her aside. She glanced up to find Henrik standing there. Even in the poor lighting, she knew it was him.

  The other students flowed past¸ a few shooting curious glances as he leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I’m doing this for me, but it’s also a gift for you.”

  “We have one more very special guest this evening,” the president was saying. “A man a lot of you might know at least by name. Let me say it was a huge surprise when he called me yesterday with his request and a very generous endowment to the school from the Amelia G. Hedberg Foundation.” He paused for the small round of applause. “When Henrik Grenick posed his request, I have to admit I rejected him at first. I quickly learned his nickname wasn’t restricted to the ice. He rolled right over my objections and then came down to prove himself.” This earned a round of chuckles.

  Jacqui was more than confused now. “What’d you do?” she stretched up to whisper.

  “Would you please welcome our special guest to the stage? Mr. Henrik Grenick.”

  The applause was warm if hesitant. Henrik squeezed her hand, straightened his suit jacket and stepped onto the stage. A few whistles pierced the air, a couple of “go Roller” following. Were his teammates here?

  The other students who’d been leaving the stage were all back, crowding her forward to see what was going on. “Do you really know him?” one guy asked, doubt in his voice.

  “He’s my boyfriend.” Damn, that felt good to own.

  Henrik cut a stunning figure under the bright stage lights, his black suit impeccably cut to show off his frame as he strode to the grand piano that took up the far corner of the stage. The very one she’d just left.

  Premonition shimmered over her skin, chills bubbling up before the first notes rang through the auditorium. She recognized the third movement of “The Tempest” sonata immediately. Her hand covered her mouth, awe striking her numb when the beautiful music flowed graceful and sure from beneath Henrik’s fingers.

  “Wow,” Max said from her other side. “That dude can play.”

  “Yes,” she managed to say around
the knot that’d formed in her throat. “He really can.”

  He was better than good, his motions moving to the rhythm and pace of the notes. He’d said he played, but this was more than being able to pick out a few songs. This was years of training, practice and born talent.

  She managed to drag her eyes off him to scan the crowd. Everyone was focused on him, expressions ranging from openly stunned to smiling broadly. They were all as shocked as her. He’d hidden this skill—passion—of his from everyone, until now.

  He was showing the world what he loved. She got that. Anyone who played like him had to love it. It would flow through him like a second breath, lifting him up like nothing else. That was what it did for her, and he’d understood that.

  This is for me, but it’s a gift for you.

  And here came the tears again. She’d sworn she was done with them, but these were ones of joy. She got what he was saying, understood and wanted to cheer for him. He was done hiding.

  The sonata wound down, ending in the final notes that hovered in the air before fading away. The pregnant pause that followed held for a beat before the applause broke loose. The audience was on their feet, cheering for him and what he’d played. Jacqui was right there with them, clapping as loudly as she could, grin so wide her cheeks hurt.

  The applause went on and on, more whistles piercing the air when he stood and bowed, the trained musician shining through. Right there he showed his experience, the professionalism that was taught through years of performances.

  “Damn,” Max said, amazement in his voice. “I never would’ve guessed that.”

  “No doubt,” another guy added.

  “I got the video,” a girl said, swinging her phone around with a grin.

  That was one video Jacqui hoped did hit the internet. Henrik’s skills as a musician were nothing to be ashamed of. She was incredibly proud of him and what he’d just done.

  Henrik took another bow as the school president went out to greet him, extending the microphone to Henrik, who took it with a nod. The audience quieted down after a few more moments, a restless hush taking over.

  “I want to thank everyone who came here tonight not only to support the great show the students put on, but because I asked you to.” Henrik scanned the crowd, smile forming. “It wasn’t my intention to steal the limelight or lessen the amazing amount of work and effort that went into putting this performance together. I have a tremendous amount of respect for these musicians and the courage it takes to get up here and play.” A ripple of agreeing applause went through the crowd before Henrik resumed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had the courage myself and now that I’ve found it again, I don’t want to let it go. This was my way of showing you what I truly love. Music lets me breathe and after years of struggling for air, I can finally take a deep breath again.”

  He lowered the mic then handed it back. The applause restarted, just as loudly as before with a large majority of it coming from the back section of the auditorium. His teammates, Jacqui realized. They’d come at his request and were supporting him without question.

  Her smile grew when she spotted her family, clapping just as exuberantly as the hockey players. They already thought of Henrik as one of them, a part of the family they’d support through anything, like they did her.

  She met Henrik before he’d cleared the stage lights, throwing her arms around his shoulders to hug him fiercely. He caught her, arms clamping tight around her waist as he spun her in a full circle before letting her feet touch the ground.

  “That was amazing,” she told him before planting a kiss on his lips. “You are amazing.”

  The cheering crowd broke through her focused daze as he grinned down at her. “It’s you who’s amazing.”

  “How about we agree that we’re both pretty damn amazing?” She grinned at the pure joy bursting through her, unable and unwilling to contain any of it. “I love you so much, Henrik Grenick.”

  “No more than I love you.” His eyes shone bright and full of that love before he claimed her mouth in a kiss that said so much more that words ever could.

  This was the man who’d shown her what it was to really, truly live and love. And she swore she’d do everything she could to do the same for him.

  Epilogue

  The lilting sound of the piano filled the room, the voices of Maureen and Colin merging on the chorus to sing the words Henrik had dedicated to Jacqui. He focused on the piano keys, heart overflowing with the love he’d finally allowed in.

  The song wound down, ending on a soft chord and final, hanging note. He lifted his head, his smile brimming over with the wealth of good fortune that’d all started when he’d met Jacqui.

  Applause broke out, his New Year’s Eve party packed with people he considered a part of his large, extended family. He rose, captured Jacqui in his arms and kissed her with all the happiness she’d brought into his life.

  This was so much more than he’d ever thought he’d have.

  Her eyes were shiny with unshed tears when he eased back, rich chocolate specked with gold he could stare at forever. “That’s from our first time. ‘Sad Song.’”

  “Your playlist,” he confirmed, brushing away a tear before it could roll down her cheek. “It’s true. Every word.”

  “Damn you, Henrik Grenick.” She hit his chest, the force weak. “I swore I was done crying.”

  He enfolded her in his arms, savored her closeness and all he’d been gifted. She’d given him so much, and he’d promised to treasure every moment he had with her. Good, bad and everything in between.

  He moved them to the side, gaze traveling over the room and people. “Do you think everyone’s enjoying themselves?”

  She leaned into him, her back to his chest, arms clutching his where they wrapped around her chest. “Yes. It’s perfect.”

  “Your mom did most of it again.”

  “And she’s in her glory. They never have this much space to entertain.” She motioned to her mother and a group of Jacqui’s aunts gathered around the end of the kitchen bar. “I hope you realize you’ll be hosting all future family gatherings.”

  He chuckled. “I kind of figured that after Christmas.”

  Her extended family had descended en masse loaded with gifts, food, drinks and more good cheer than he’d ever experienced at one holiday. The day had introduced a whole new realm of family to him that’d included bickering, razzing, long-standing arguments and memory lane trips over games of pool and euchre and a never-ending white elephant gift exchange—a first for him.

  He hadn’t even considered going to Boston for the holiday, but he’d had a good conversation with his mother before the day. One that’d cleared the air and started the healing process between them. He hadn’t asked about his real father and at this point had no desire to know more. For all their faults, he was finally at ease with his own family and upbringing and he didn’t need to complicate it.

  “How did you get Colin to sing?” Jacqui asked, nodding to her brother, who was guzzling a beer next to Dan and Tory.

  “I told him it was for you.” Finn had shared Colin’s hidden talent and huge dose of stage fright with Henrik. “I also owe him hockey tickets for the rest of the season.”

  Jacqui’s laugh broke over the music, lifting his heart with its freedom. “Finn finagled the whole thing, didn’t he?” She turned to challenge him. “He told you about Colin.”

  Of course she’d know that. “I got tickets for Dan and your parents too,” he told her. “And Tory and you.”

  Her exaggerated huff was all fake outrage. “Does that mean I have to like hockey now?”

  “Nope,” he reassured her. “You only have to like me.”

  “Hmm.” Her smile held the love he knew to be true. “I guess I can do that.”

  A small band led by Finn played, the music filling his house with noise that blended with the conversation and laughter. People were spread across both levels of his house, his teammates and her family seamlessl
y mixing together like long-time friends.

  And not for the first time, he wished everyone was gone. That it was just him and Jacqui nestled on the couch before the fireplace, the quiet surrounding them with its comforting peace.

  He kissed her gently, cupped her face and held her as her tongue swept in to play with his. Slow, lazy and tasting of beer and her.

  “Hey, Roller. Don’t you know you’re supposed to wait ’til midnight for that?”

  Henrik grinned into Jacqui’s mouth before releasing her lips so they could both laugh. He made a quick check for kids and flipped Rylie off. “The big kids know to start early,” he razzed back.

  “Oh, trust me.” Rylie grinned, tipping his cowboy hat lower. “I know all about starting early.”

  Samantha rolled her eyes and gave him a shove. “It’s a good thing you have me to show you how.”

  “Ooh…” He wrapped her up in a hug, grinning down at her. “It sure is.” He kissed her before she could speak, lowering his hat to the side to hide their faces from view.

  “Oh my God,” Feeney groaned. “There are kids around.”

  “We’ve seen worse,” a boy hollered to the embarrassment of his mother. Henrik was still learning everyone’s names, but he believed they were connected to Jacqui in some second or third cousin way.

  This was the family he’d created for himself. One he was finally allowing himself to fully appreciate. His teammates had levied the expected round of digs over his concert performance, but it’d been accompanied with true compliments and sincerity too. They’d respected his talent and what he’d done.

  Glaciers Management had opted to keep his retirement quiet for now, and Henrik respected their decision. He wasn’t changing his mind though. It’d taken Jacqui a few weeks to accept that it was his choice to leave hockey, not hers, and that his decision wasn’t influenced by her recent cancer scare. Her stubborn streak was a trait he hoped never changed, no matter how frustrating it could be.

  At least she’d finally taken the keyboard out of the box. A friend of Finn’s was playing on it now, but only after Jacqui had leveled numerous warnings about “not screwing it up.” She’d spent many hours working on it now that she’d basically moved in with him. That had happened through a gradual arrival of more of her things and a shifting of drawers and closet space by him, both of which he had plenty of.