[Clearing the Ice 01.0] This Piece of My Heart

by Robyn M Ryan

  Caryn rested her chin on her hand and tried to focus on the professor’s words as he reviewed what the next test would cover. Listen, Caryn! She succeeded for a few moments, then Drew’s blue eyes returned to her mind. She could recite what he said word-for-word. He was angry and frustrated. Would someone react that way if he were lying—or was he just angry and frustrated she found out about Monique.

  She felt a jab in her shoulder and looked up, then saw Lauren nodding toward the door, suppressing a grin. “In La La land, Caryn?”

  Caryn shut her textbook and shoved it in her bag along with her iPad. “Guess you could say that,” she laughed as she slid from her seat. “I just can’t focus today.”

  “Still trying to decide what to do about Andrew?”

  “What else? I keep going back and forth between the guy I knew this summer and someone who’d use me just to pass the time while his girlfriend—or whatever she is—was in Europe.” She followed Lauren out the door and walked beside her towards her next class. “I want so badly to believe him.”

  Lauren reached to touch her arm. “Listen to your heart, Caryn,” she said softly. “That’s the only place you’ll find your answer.”

  Caryn hugged Lauren impulsively when they paused outside the classroom door. “You’re the best friend anyone could have.” She swiped at her face impatiently as tears unexpectedly filled her eyes.

  “You know things are going to work out, don’t you?” Lauren assured her.

  “Yeah, I know that. I just don’t know how things will wind up.”

  “I do,” Lauren laughed lightly. “You’ll figure it out—that light bulb just needs to go on.”

  FOURTEEN

  Opening Night. Nothing like it, especially when the season opened at home. The excitement pulsed throughout the arena. Everyone from the ticket scanners to the media reps to the front office to the ushers and concession stand crews felt the heightened anticipation. A new season. A new quest for the Stanley Cup. The players and coaches were not immune. Expectations focused on making the playoffs. Individual goals took a back seat to the team’s success, but each player set his sights on achieving personal bests.

  Andrew reviewed the team goals set during training camp as he taped his sticks in the clubhouse late in the afternoon. He’d been out on the ice a couple times already, working off anticipatory energy. He needed to stay focused and alert during the game. Nervous energy tended to interfere with his game. The Leafs brought a three-game winning streak home from Europe and no one wanted to disappoint the fans on opening night.

  He allowed his thoughts to shift to Caryn briefly. Last text he’d exchanged with Tom indicated that Caryn had yet to contact him for a ride to the game. That’s the one thing besides hockey that he’d focused on during the European trip—Caryn’s first NHL game watching the Leafs at the home opener. Foolishly he’d vowed to score a hat trick for her. Now? Any goals he scored would just help the team win.

  He quickly shut the door on further thoughts about Caryn. Whether or not they got past the Monique hurdle could not muddle his concentration. He had a job and he expected nothing less than his best effort.

  ***

  Caryn stared at the game ticket sitting on her counter for what seemed like hours. She thought about every moment she spent with Drew during the summer. She never questioned his feelings for her—he demonstrated it daily in so many different ways. The only thing she’d questioned? The depth of his feelings. She closed her eyes and replayed the minute he’d opened the door to his place and swept her into his arms—just three days ago. His never-ending kiss and soft caresses, her body’s response…she still felt the shiver of electricity that sparked wherever his fingers touched. She didn’t think they would have stopped if the phone hadn’t rung. She admitted that she would not have applied the brakes—her body craved even more kisses and caresses. There’d been no indication that Drew had any intention of stopping. Most likely they would have made love—or would they have just had sex? Did that matter to her?

  She’d trusted him enough to jump off that cliff with him. Would the Andrew she knew take advantage of her willingness to follow her emotions if he were already involved in a long-term relationship? In her heart, Caryn knew he wouldn’t.

  Then why did she so easily believe what Monique told her? She didn’t know the woman at all, just a stranger who showed up claiming an ongoing two-year relationship with Drew. Every fiber of her mind had screamed “No!” but she’d ignored her instincts and quickly found her mind ensnared in Monique’s web of deceit.

  Not giving Andrew the opportunity to explain before jumping to conclusions played right into Monique’s game. She remembered his words when he confronted her… “When I asked you to be my girl, I wasn’t kidding around with you. I meant it. I want us to be together—like we were all summer—and see where we go from here. I have not cheated on you. I will not cheat on you. As long as we are a couple, I expect both of us to respect the relationship.”

  He’d been angry and rightfully so. She’d reacted like an insecure, immature teenager.

  Caryn reached for her phone to call Drew, then saw the time. Too late—the game was less than ninety-minutes from starting. She couldn’t call him now. She couldn’t even call Tom for a ride to the game; he’d said two hours before game time. Well, I’m an adult. I can get myself to the arena.

  She ran up the stairs and scowled as she caught her reflection in the mirror. This won’t do. She quickly reached for her makeup, then hairbrush. She knew to dress warm. If she sat anywhere near the ice, she’d spend the entire game shivering. Tights under leggings. Boots. Her favorite corduroy shirt. A sweater and she’d be ready to go. Her eyes fell on the Leafs jersey Drew had given her before he left for Europe. She reached for it, running her hand against the thick material. His name and number 14 on the back. He’d joked that he’d had to ask the PR staff to go to kids’ section to find a size that wouldn’t dwarf her. Why not? I might look like a fan girl, but who cares?

  She slipped the jersey over her head, pleased that it almost fit. She had to roll back the sleeves, but didn’t mind that it fell midway to her knees. She stepped in front of the full-length mirror. Not bad. Stick a hat on my head and I look like a real fan.

  She contacted Uber for transportation and stepped into the arena ten minutes before the game began. The ushers directed her to an elevator, then to a box near center ice. “Are you sure my seat’s here?”

  The usher checked her ticket again. “This is it. Enjoy.”

  Caryn stepped through the door he held open, looking around in wonder at the luxury box. An empty luxury box. There must be a mistake. Why would Drew… Caryn sighed in relief when she saw Tom on the other side of the glass sitting in one of the seats.

  She saw the look of surprise that quickly morphed to a broad smile when she approached his seat. “Hey, Caryn. I’m glad you decided to come. Why didn’t you call me for a ride?”

  “Last minute decision. Then I needed someone to show me where to find my seat.” She waved her hand toward the suite. “Are we the only ones sitting here?”

  Tom patted the seat beside him. “As far as I know. I think Andrew called in some favors. He wanted your first game to be extra-special.”

  Caryn felt her face flush. And I almost didn’t come.

  Tom seemed to read her mind. “I was worried that I’d end up on the big screen as the loser sitting alone in this suite. And wait until the food arrives. You didn’t have supper, did you?”

  “Actually, I haven’t had much the past few days. Stop me if I take food off your plate.” She looked down at the ice where the players warmed up, trying to spot Drew. It didn’t take long. Caryn felt the excitement swelling within. “I can’t believe I’m here. I waited all summer to see Drew play.”

  “So, you two okay?” Tom asked cautiously.

  “I hope I can make it okay. I hope he’ll have time to talk with me after the game.”

  Tom chuckled. “Don’t worry about that–I know wh
ere he parks. You can ambush him.”

  ***

  Andrew had looked up at the box he’d secured several times during warm-ups, disappointed when Tom entered and sat alone. He’d hoped Caryn would come, even if she didn’t want to talk yet. He realized then that it might take some time for Caryn to sort things out. He put their relationship in the back of his mind and focused on the game. Toronto-Montréal was the traditional home opener, and as always it felt like the crowd was split fifty-fifty. Or, maybe their fans were more vocal during the pre-game introductions. When the arena darkened and the Leafs introduced individually as they skated onto the ice, the home team’s fans raised the decibel level substantially. Andrew squinted against the spotlight as he skated to center ice, grateful as always not to trip and end up on his ass. He wasn’t a fan of skating in a darkened arena with strobe lights flashing and a spotlight blinding him. The fans loved it, though, so as long as he stayed upright, he could tolerate it.

  The starting lineups stayed at center ice while the rest of the team headed to the bench. Andrew was playing second line this game, the coach indicating the match-ups he desired. He didn’t care. He’d get his time on the ice.

  He tried to keep his eyes off the suite at the conclusion of the National Anthem, but Andrew allowed himself a quick glimpse. He saw the blue jersey and blonde hair, and his heart skipped a beat. Caryn had come after all. He pulled his eyes away and bit back the smile he felt tugging at his mouth.

  “Thinking about all the hits you’re going to lay on Jennings?” His line’s center, Jean-Paul Cartier nudged him.

  “Sure. That and our line scoring a few times.” He shook his head as the linesman dropped the puck for the opening face-off. “I hate this team—and their fans.”

  ***

  Caryn knew the basic rules of hockey, but seeing a game in person overwhelmed her. “They move so fast, Tom. I can hardly see where the puck is going.”

  “You’ll get used to it. Besides, you seem to be watching Andrew, not the puck, when he’s on the ice.” Tom glanced at her with a knowing smile.

  “You expected anything else? Why are they blowing the whistle now? I didn’t see anything.”

  “Number six on the Canadiens just got caught hooking. Two-minute power play for us.” Tom bit back a smile. “You want me to give you the names or the numbers or both?”

  “I can look that up later. So Drew’s on the power play?” Caryn’s voice rose in excitement as he lined up for the face-off.

  “Usually is on the first squad. He gets a lot of goals from that right circle where’s he’s positioned.”

  Caryn held her breath as the linesman dropped the puck, frowning as a Canadien immediately sent the puck all the way to the other end. “Icing?”

  “Not during a penalty-kill. If you’re short-handed you can ice the puck all night long. We just need to win the face-offs.”

  Caryn leaned forward in her seat, and then stood to get a better view. She didn’t have to worry about blocking anyone’s view. Her fingers crossed as Cartier snapped the puck right to Drew’s stick. He was in that spot Tom mentioned. Before the puck even reached his stick, Andrew was ready with a wrist shot, sending the puck over the goalie’s right shoulder. The crowd erupted. Caryn jumped excitedly and impulsively hugged Tom. She saw the Leafs gather around Drew, exchanging helmet taps or fist bumps. As he turned to skate toward the bench, he quickly raised his stick slightly in the direction of their suite, and Caryn could see the huge grin on his face. Tom nudged her.

  “That was for you, you know.”

  “You really think so?” Caryn’s heart was still pumping with excitement. She saw Drew say something to the linesman, then skate in front of the Leafs bench, bumping gloves in the traditional celebration.

  “I don’t think he was looking at me,” Tom said. She looked up and saw his eyes following the linesman who retrieved the puck and handed it to the backup goalie.

  “Why did they do that? Is it like in baseball when they get a new ball?”

  “Sort of.” Tom took his seat and Caryn followed after the next face-off.

  The rest of the period flew by, Caryn asking questions now and then when a whistle blew. Mostly, she sat forward, hands clenched together, eyes on Andrew any time he stepped on the ice. Or waited his line’s turn on the bench. When the horn sounded at the end of the period, Caryn sank to her seat exhausted. She didn’t know how she’d make it through two more periods.

  “The food just arrived. Let’s get something to eat during intermission,” Tom said as he stood and stretched. “Enjoying your first game?”

  “More than I dreamed.” She followed Tom inside the suite where the assortment of food and drinks made her stomach rumble. “I just got my appetite back,” she said with a laugh. “Drew arranged for all this?”

  “That he did. My favorite—beer and pizza. I assume the healthy looking stuff is what you like?”

  “My favorites.” She picked up a plate and nodded as Tom held up a bottle of wine. “This all looks delicious. I may steal a piece of your pizza, though.”

  “Help yourself. I just hope they provide take out boxes.”

  They sat at one of the room’s round counter-height tables. “I’m getting spoiled, Tom.” Caryn took a bite of her pizza. It tasted better than any pizza she’d eaten in Toronto.

  “Enjoy tonight. I’m not sure how many times Andrew can pull the strings that got us here. After tonight, we’ll be down with the common fans.”

  Caryn rolled her eyes as she swallowed the pizza, the sipped her wine. “I’m so thankful I stopped acting like a child and decided to come.”

  “I wouldn’t exactly say you acted like a child,” Tom countered. “You had good reason to be confused—Monique can produce Academy-Award worthy performances.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I just wish I hadn’t met her. I keep wondering if Drew treated her the way he does me…It’s stupid, but I can’t help thinking about it.”

  Tom shrugged. “Don’t waste your time. There’s no comparison. You and Monique are nothing alike, and the way Andrew reacts to each of you is going to be just as different. I can see it, Caryn.”

  “How?”

  Tom smiled. “You’re not going to let me off the hook, are you?” He paused as Caryn shook her head, and then took a long swallow of his beer before continuing. “Andrew’s very protective of you. He’s sensitive to your feelings. I think he’d do anything to keep from hurting you—or allowing someone else to hurt you. He doesn’t talk much about you or your relationship. I think it’s too important to him. I used to hear everything about Monique. She drove him crazy, pushing him to do things, wanting him to buy expensive gifts for her. Last spring, she wanted him to pay for a trip to Europe.”

  “When she was cheating on him?”

  “Yeah, but that was before he knew anything about that guy. They were having problems and Andrew probably would have gone along with her on the European thing just to get some breathing room. But then he found out about the Swiss boyfriend and saved himself a few thousand dollars.”

  Ashamed of her curiosity, Caryn had to ask. “Were they living together?”

  “Off and on.”

  “Did they ever talk about getting married?” Caryn’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

  “Not to me. It wasn’t like that. He and Monique were just together, that’s all, except when they weren’t. I couldn’t keep up with their on-again, off-again relationship. I don’t think either of them gave much thought to the future—or even the next week. It was a day-to-day thing for them.” He reached to tap her nose. “Enough about that diva, Caryn. She is no threat to you. No competition at all.”

  “Thanks, Tom, I’m sorry I grilled you like that.”

  “Understood.” He hugged her affectionately, and then he glanced toward the ice. “The second period’s about to start. Let’s take this feast where we can watch.”

  ***

 
Hoarse from cheering and exhausted from the tension she felt the entire game, Caryn sat in her seat unable to move after the three stars of the game took the ice and the fans filed out. Her heart swelled with pride when Andrew skated out as the first star after scoring two goals and assisting on another. She really hoped he’d get the hat trick—she couldn’t imagine fans raining hats down on the ice, even though she knew it was a time-honored hockey tradition.

  “You want to relax inside for a while? Andrew will be in the locker room for some time. The media will want sound bites from the first star.”

  “I’m not sure I can stand up.” Tom held out his hand, which Caryn grasped with a grateful smile. “Thanks, big brother.”

  “We could go on down to the clubhouse. There’s a special waiting area for family members.”

  “Let’s wait a bit. I need to relax, then freshen up.” Caryn turned toward Tom. “You don’t think he’ll leave before we get there?”

  Tom chuckled as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ll send him a text to let us know if he’s ready to leave before we get down there.”

  Caryn knew Andrew would not approach her if she didn’t make the first move. He’d promised her space and would respect her need for time. Her stomach contracted nervously, as she tried to sort through what she would say to him. She knew she had a big apology to make. And no idea how to explain her behavior.

  FIFTEEN

  Caryn stood nervously beside Andrew’s car as she and Tom waited for him to walk through the player’s exit. Several of his teammates preceded him, many greeting Tom, others looking at her with interest. When Caryn noticed the appraising glances, she focused her eyes on the door. Probably should have dressed more conservatively. Unconsciously, she tugged on the jersey to cover more of her legs. She hoped they didn’t think she was one of those girls who hang around the parking lot fence trying to hook up with a player.