“Look alive, Tyler!” my dad yelled from the stands. He was always a bit more vocal when my agent was around. But we were just supposed to be doing a light skate, working out our nerves before the game, so I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Well, maybe I should have been thinking more about strategies or skills or something else a bit more related to hockey, but my dad couldn’t tell what was going on in my brain. Thankfully.
When I got off the ice, he and Gaviston were waiting for me. “Get changed and we’ll go get something to eat,” my dad said.
“Something light,” Gaviston added. “You can have a big meal after the game tonight.”
“I need to be back at the arena by four thirty,” I said. Really our pre-game meeting was scheduled for five thirty, but I generally liked some time alone before games, and I absolutely wanted as little time with my dad and Gaviston as possible.
“No problem.” My dad sounded impatient. I guess it was okay for me to take my mind off the game as long as I was sending my thoughts in the direction he wanted.
So I got changed, and we went to one of the big chain restaurants up on the hill, and even though I was tempted to order half their menu, just to piss Gaviston off, I settled for a chicken breast and Greek salad.
He ordered a burger with a side of fries, the bastard. And he and my dad had beer while I got a Coke. It was a good way to remind me that I was just a kid, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t have been drinking before a game no matter who I was with, and it wasn’t like I had trouble buying beer whenever I wanted. So the drinks didn’t mean anything, really, except that somehow they did.
Then Gaviston started talking about the loan. “It’ll be a flexible repayment schedule,” he said reassuringly. “If it takes you a few years to find your place in the league, you don’t need to worry about paying it off right away. I’ll charge interest at a rate set by one of the major banks, so that’ll be fair. You’ll repay me as you can. The only limitation is that you won’t be able to sign with any other agent until the loan is paid in full. But that’s not a serious limit, is it?” His smile was confident, as if he couldn’t imagine me ever wanting to work with anyone but him.
But if there was no way I’d ever want a different agent, then there was no reason for him to put that clause in the loan contract. You don’t need to force someone to do something they’d want to do anyway.
I didn’t say anything, just sipped my Coke and waited for it all to be over. I knew what Karen would say: she’d say it wouldn’t be over until I made it be over. But I didn’t know how to do that, not without hurting people I cared about.
It usually makes me uncomfortable when people recognize me and approach me in public, but this time when I saw a kid at a nearby table sneaking looks at me and then whispering to his dad, I gave him a big grin and pulled my shirt around so he could see the Raiders logo. He beamed at me, and his dad gave me a questioning look. I nodded and the kid shot out of his chair like it was an ejector seat.
“Tyler MacDonald! Tyler MacDonald! We’re going to the game tonight, me and my dad and my friend and his dad. We’re going to see you play. It’s going to be a great game, right? I bet you get ten goals. And twenty assists! We’re going to be sitting behind the bench. Maybe you’ll see us there. If you do, you could wave, okay? But you don’t have to. Not if you’re busy with the game. But I’ll see you, right up close.”
“Closer than you are now?”
The kid looked puzzled, then shook his head. “No. But now you’re just…you’re just normal. Tonight you’ll be special.”
I knew what he meant: the skates and the uniform and the attention everyone gave me. I did seem more special at the rink. But underneath it all, it was still just me. Just somebody normal. “I’ll look for you,” I said. “Do you play?”
“Defense,” he said proudly. “But I score goals, too, when I can.”
“Nice. An all-rounder. I try to play defense when I can, so we’d be good on the same line, right? You could take the opportunities for scoring when they come, and you’d know that I’d drop back and help cover the defense.”
His eyes were wide. Kids loved it when you talked about playing on the same line as them. But then he shook his head. “If I was on the same line as you, I think you should be the one taking the shots,” he said seriously.
I shrugged. “Maybe. You’ll have to do a few years of growing before we’d be in the same league; maybe by then your shot will be better than mine.”
His eyes had gone back to being wide. “We could be in the NHL together?”
Or the same bar league. But I probably didn’t need to spew all that insecurity over an innocent kid so I shrugged and said, “Who knows? Maybe.”
His dad came over then, we shook hands, and they wished me luck, then went back to their own table. Gaviston gave me an approving nod. “Being good with fans is important. It’s an intangible, not right there on the scouting report, but teams notice.”
“Not everything’s about getting drafted.”
Gaviston and my dad both looked at me like I was speaking Martian. Gaviston was the one who leaned in and hissed, “You need to change that attitude, son. This isn’t… It’s not high school. You can’t goof off and make up the credits next year. You can’t take a gap year and go hiking across Europe and come back and expect university to be just waiting for you. You do not have that flexibility.” He shook his head as if shocked that he had to explain this to me. “This season is your chance. Every game, every shift, they all count. If you screw this up, there’re no do-overs.” He leaned back and actually picked up his knife and pointed it at me. It was a dull table knife, and he was across the table so it wasn’t actually a threat, but it was pretty intense all the same. “So, no, Tyler. You’re wrong. This year? Every goddamn thing is about getting drafted. You want to go out to eat? Fine, as long as you’re making contacts while you’re out there, doing things that make scouts hear that you’re a fan favorite so teams will want to draft you. You want a summer job? Okay, because it’ll give you some spending money for the year so you can focus on hockey and do well so teams will want to draft you. You want a girlfriend? Fine. Because she’ll help you relax so you can play better so teams will want to draft you. Are you getting my point here, Tyler?”
It wasn’t exactly subtle. “I hear you,” I said. Then I looked at my watch. There was still lots of time, even for my extra-early deadline, but I was ready to get out of there. “I should get back to the rink. Get my head in the game so I can play well and teams will want to draft me. Right?”
Gaviston laughed and beamed at me like I was a hero. I wasn’t sure if he’d actually missed the sarcasm or was just choosing to ignore it. Either way, he waved the server over and got our bill, so I wasn’t going to complain. We walked back out to his rental, and I folded myself into the back seat and stared out the window while the grownups had their important conversations up front.
When we got to the rink, they parked and for a bit I was afraid they were going to come inside with me and keep up the harassment right until game time, but instead Gaviston clapped me on the shoulder and said, “Stay focused, Tyler. This is your season. This is your chance.”
“Don’t screw it up,” my dad said darkly.
Those were the words that echoed in my head as I made my way into the deserted change room. Don’t screw it up. Don’t screw it up. I slumped down onto the bench in front of my locker and stared at the ceiling. Don’t screw it up. It seemed so simple, when it was just words. But when I had to translate the words into actions, everything got a bit more complicated.
Chapter Twenty-Four
- Karen -
I don’t think they knew I was home. Looking back, that’s what makes sense. I was supposed to be down at the beach with Miranda and Sara, but I’d come home early because I was strangely nervous about Tyler’s game that night. It wasn’t his playing that had me concerned; I knew he’d do well and didn’t care if he didn’t, except for the part where he’
d be upset about it. I was more worried about it being one more public statement of our coupledom. Dawn had told me that the local reporters had wanted to interview her the year before when Cooper was made alternate captain, and I didn’t want to be that close to the spotlight. And even if the press didn’t care, I was supposed to be sitting in the players’ complimentary ticket area, which Dawn said meant a little extra attention. Will and the kids were going to be at the game so maybe I should have sat with them, but Tyler had offered the ticket and I’d agreed, so I couldn’t back out.
Anyway, I was nervous and I went home early to shower and get dressed. Dawn had come over the day before and helped sort through my wardrobe, trying to find something that would look natural for a hockey game without sacrificing my personal style. She didn’t dress conventionally, either, although her look was more rocker than retro, but at least she understood that I wasn’t trying to look like a kid in a magazine. I was happy with the vintage dress and jean jacket combo we’d come up with, but it wasn’t really enough to keep me calm.
There’d been no one home when I arrived, but as I came up the stairs I heard voices in the kitchen. The grandperfects, and they didn’t sound pleased. I was hoping to sneak out the back door, but I paused at the top of the stairs to plan my escape.
I glanced into the kitchen and saw Natalie standing at the sink staring out the window as if she wished she could climb through it. I hesitated, wondering if I should go in to give her a little support.
“If you’re going to do it, you need to do it,” her mother was saying. “I’ve got the name of Cynthia Pearson’s lawyer. You know what a good job he did. You should get the accounts frozen, start keeping track of every penny you spend on the kids, or on the house or the cars. If you’re doing this, you can’t mess around.”
“And you need to get that girl out of here,” her father said. “Why the hell are you babysitting his bastard? If it came down to it in court, could that be used as evidence that you approve of his infidelities? It’s sure going to make it hard for you to argue that you didn’t know about them.”
“Legalities aside,” her mother said, “the whole point of bringing the girl up here was to make him take responsibility for his mistakes. Instead, here you are again, covering for him, letting him get away with—”
I didn’t want to hear any more. I wanted to sneak out and pretend I hadn’t heard it at all, but I guess my purse banged on the door, just a little but at exactly the wrong time. Natalie turned and saw me. Her face was drawn tight, and she looked about ten years older than she was. “Karen—” she started, but I didn’t think I wanted to hear any more.
“I’m off to the game,” I said brightly, my smile forced but wide. “I’m going to get dinner there, I think.” Because there was no way on Earth I was going to sit down for a meal with the grandperfects. “Gotta go.” And I was off, trotting down the steps and around the corner of the house, then sprinting for a few glorious strides as soon as I was sure I was out of their sight. I slowed again when I got to the sidewalk but kept moving fast.
Nobody came after me. I might have heard Natalie call my name, but I’m not even sure about that. Probably I imagined it. Why would she chase me? What was there to say? Her parents were right. I had no right to a place in that house, and if Will was gone for good, I guessed I was, too. It made sense, and it was crazy that I hadn’t already thought of it. Yeah, I couldn’t expect Natalie to keep babysitting Will’s bastard. I just had no idea where I was supposed to go.
So I headed for the arena. I was a couple hours early, but maybe Tyler would be there, and maybe he’d have a couple minutes for me. Maybe that would be enough. Just a kiss, a few moments with his warm body making mine feel alive.
I was in the parking lot, heading for the front door, when I heard an unfamiliar voice call my name. I turned to see a man in a business suit jogging across the parking lot toward me. “Karen,” he repeated. “Right?” He saw my hesitation and smiled as he offered his hand. “I’m Brett Gaviston, Tyler’s agent.”
“Oh.” I said, shaking his hand a bit tentatively. I knew Tyler had mixed feelings about his agent, but it seemed best to be polite. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gaviston.”
“Nice to meet you, too. And, please, call me Brett.”
I nodded to show that I understood, then waited. Were we supposed to be making small talk?
Brett checked his watch, then looked at me. “You’re here early.”
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
“That’s great. It gives us some time to talk. Why don’t we sit over here?” He had his hand on my elbow, not really grabbing hold, just sort of guiding me. I could have gotten free if I’d tried, but it would have felt rude. So I let myself be taken over to the stone bench beneath the trees. He sat down and looked up at me expectantly, so I sat down, too. I wasn’t quite sure when I’d gotten so suggestible; I guess I was still kind of numb from everything at the house.
We just sat quietly for a bit, and then Brett said, “This is a big year for Tyler.”
I nodded. “The draft, right?”
“That’s the goal. Absolutely. But, I’m not sure…” He trailed off, then looked at me apologetically. “You don’t want to hear all this.”
“All what?”
“All my concerns. My worrying about the future. Tyler’s future. That’s not something a pretty girl should have to worry about on a beautiful day like today.”
Reverse psychology? It seemed so transparent, but, damn, it was still working. “If there’s something you think I should know, I’m happy to listen.”
“Are you? Of course you are. Because you care about Tyler.” He nodded. “That’s nice. It truly is. I mean, a lot of people—a lot of young women—care about him. But you’re special, right? Because he cares about you.”
I didn’t feel too special right then, but I shrugged. “This is what you wanted to tell me?”
Another smile. “I’m not sure I need to tell you anything, really. I mean, you’re a smart girl. A compassionate girl. And you care about Tyler. You know how much he’s given up to get to where he is. How he barely sees his mother, or his brother and sister. He was granted exceptional player status to enter the OHL. Did you know that? So he came down a year early, when he was only fifteen. Left his family behind, started a whole new life in a new town. But you know how hard that is, of course.”
He leaned back and looked up into the leaves over our heads for a moment, like he was lost in reverie. I was getting pretty tired of the performance, but I wanted to see where he was taking it. So I waited patiently, and finally he said, “You haven’t seen how hard he works during the season, of course. Not yet. You haven’t seen him playing hurt, haven’t seen how much it bothers him when he makes a mistake in a game, or how much he hates to lose. Hates letting the team down.”
“He loves the game.” I sounded kind of defensive, even to my own ears.
“He does,” Brett agreed. “And he’s got a chance to make all the pain pay off. All the sacrifices. But he must have told you that it’s far from a sure thing?”
Tyler had definitely told me that. Winslow and the other players I’d met seemed a lot more confident, but Tyler said he wasn’t really big enough for the NHL, and probably wasn’t fast enough, either. “I thought maybe he was just being hard on himself.”
“Realistic, more like it.” Brett shook his head. “If Tyler’s going to be drafted—if he’s going to get the chance to make his dream come true and get the payoff for everything he’s given up—he needs to play better this year than he’s ever played before. He needs everything to go right.” He smiled at me again, this time with a little sadness mixed into his expression. “He needs to be totally focused on hockey. No distractions whatsoever.”
Oh. He was talking about me. I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just stared at him, and after a few moments he shrugged. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have fun together. It’s just…he’s a good guy. A caring guy. He wants to help peop
le. And you?” Another shrug. “You seem like you could use quite a bit of help.”
“What? You don’t know anything about me.”
“Of course I do. You’ve been here long enough to know how small towns work. I know plenty about you, and I know how things are going at your house.” The smile was gone, now. “I know that things have gone downhill there since you arrived. And maybe they’ll be able to pull themselves back together—I don’t know. But you need to understand that a family is a lot more resilient than a fledgling hockey career. If your dad has a few rough months, that’s too bad for him, but he can bounce back. If Tyler has a rough few months? Now, with every scout on the continent watching every breath he takes? That’d be it for him. For all of his dreams. He could be someone who makes millions of dollars playing a game he loves, or he could be another washed-up minor-leaguer, another unemployed drywaller trying to live his dreams through his son.” He waited again, and when he saw I had nothing to say, he gentled his voice. “That’s how important the next few months are to Tyler. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
I nodded. I understood. I wasn’t sure how I felt about any of it, but I understood it.
“Good. So you need to make a choice. If you can be the right kind of girlfriend for Tyler? If you can be supportive, someone he comes to for fun and relaxation, someone who knows her place and her role? Then you can help him out. But if you want to drag him into your mess? If you want to make your relationship all about you and what you need? You’ll be hurting him. You could be ruining him.”
“I’m not going to hurt him.”
He stared at me, then nodded slowly. “I believe you. I believe that you wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. But, honestly—can you stop him from hurting himself? Because if he knows you’re upset about something, he’s going to want to help you, isn’t he? That’s the kind of person he is. But he can’t be that kind of person. Not this year.”
Center Ice (Entangled Crush) (Corrigan Falls Raiders) Page 16
