The Carolyn Chronicles, Volume 1

by Derek Ciccone

  “Unfortunately, I requested a supermodel but ended up with a Model-T. So I’m going to stay out of the way from here on out.”

  “Probably for the best,” Chuck sounded distracted. “Hey, guys, I gotta go, but first can I talk to the princess of the manor?”

  Billy tracked Carolyn down. She was feeding Nails outside his doghouse, which he believed was in direct violation of Coach’s orders. “Your dad wants to speak to you,” he said and tossed her the phone.

  “Daddy!” she immediately lit up.

  “How’s my girl doing?”

  “Pretty good … at least when Coach isn’t yelling at me.”

  “Coach?”

  “Billy’s coach, he makes me do stuff instead of playing in the snow.”

  “Oh, Coach Blake. Well, don’t take it personally. Sometimes coaches have to yell to get their point across … it’s just because they want to make you the best you can be.”

  “Coaches sure say a lot of bad words. Do you say a lot of bad words when you do coaching?”

  “No—because my daughter would make me put money in the swear jar … and they don’t pay me enough to give my money away.”

  “And if Santa heard ya, and put you on his bad list, then you’d be in double-trouble.”

  He laughed. “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “I can’t wait to see you too, Daddy.”

  “That’s good, because I’m going to be coming home this afternoon. About to get on the plane.”

  Carolyn overloaded with excitement. “Really? Can we go sledding and make a snowman when you get here?”

  “Anything you want … just seeing you is going to make this the best Christmas ever.”

  When they ended the call, a quizzical look came over Carolyn’s face. “What is it?” Billy asked.

  “I totally forgot.”

  “To tell your dad something? He’ll be here soon, you can tell him then.”

  “It’s not that,” she said as she bolted away, almost slipping a couple times on the slick, snow-covered ground.

  Billy looked to Nails, who appeared to be just as confused as he was. So they both took off after her, chasing her into the house, moving in and between the many wedding workers. It was much easier for the kid-sized Carolyn than Billy, who kept bumping into people and apologizing, slowing him down.

  He caught up to her as she ran through the Downstairs Room and up the spiraled staircase toward her bedroom. He followed her up the stairs, but she suddenly pivoted, surprising Billy, and almost knocked him down as she was now running down the stairs. “I forgot it’s not my room anymore,” he heard her say.

  She ran to Chuck’s bedroom on the ground floor, where she had been sleeping since she was evicted from her room so that it could be turned into a banquet hall.

  When Billy entered she was tearing the place apart, bookshelves, indiscriminately tossing dirty laundry, and looking under the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Found it,” she said, holding a folded piece of notebook paper.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My dad said it was going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  “And you don’t think it will be?”

  “No.” Her happiness had faded.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I forgot to send it,” she said, and held up the paper. “I was thinking about you and Aunt Dana’s wedding, and missing my dad, and I guess I forgot it was Christmas.”

  With the constant drumbeat of ads and music and more ads, beginning before Thanksgiving—and that New Canaan had been lit up like one big nativity scene for the past month—Billy wasn’t sure how anyone could forget it was Christmas, even if they wanted to, but somehow Carolyn was the first child in history to accomplish this feat.

  She handed Billy the piece of paper and he quickly realized it was her Christmas list for Santa.

  He could feel her tears coming on, so he had to move fast. “Think about it, Carolyn—if Santa knows when you’re sleeping or awake,” as creepy as that is, “then he surely knows what you want for Christmas.”

  “Then why does he make us write a letter?”

  “You’re going to find that 90% of life is paper and busywork. Keeps everyone employed.”

  “But Santa knows whether we’re naughty or nice, right?”

  Billy saw where she was going with this. Her letter mentioned that she was sorry for being “naughty” this year, and provided some specifics, such as how she was “mean” to Lindsey, and was “wrong” to scare people when she escaped the hospital and her school. She then made a spirited case, promising that she would be twice as good next year to make up for it. She was worried she would only be getting coal this year—that’s why it was important for the Big Guy to see the letter.

  But if she could finagle her way onto the Nice List, she did request a few possible gifts. Billy shook his head. “A Zamboni machine? What would you do with that?”

  She shrugged. “If I’m going to be the assistant driver, then I need to practice.”

  “And where do you plan to do that?”

  “On the pond.”

  “It can’t hurt to ask, but I’m guessing … besides the obvious logistical issues … it might be a bit too expensive.”

  “That’s why I asked Santa.”

  “What if it’s too expensive for Santa?”

  “Then I’d ask Aunt Dana.”

  She had it all figured out.

  “I’ve seen Aunt Dana’s gift for you, and it’s definitely not a Zamboni machine.”

  “Don’t tell me what it is—I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Unless you want to.” Her little face looked hopeful.

  “I don’t. But what would you want it to be?”

  “If I could have anything in the world besides my dad coming home and a Zamboni machine, I think it would be to see Ryan.”

  “As soon as he gets better you can.”

  “That’s sure taking a long time.”

  A gruff voice interrupted their conversation, “Carolyn—why are your toys still in this room? Get up here now!”

  She looked to Billy for help. “I’d also wish for Coach to stop bossing me around.”

  Billy just shrugged. As they say in Annie—it’s a hard knock life.

  “Coming,” Carolyn said and ran out of the room.

  Billy looked again at the unsent Christmas list. He wasn’t sure if this would be the best Christmas ever, but he got the feeling that it was one they’d always remember.”

  Chapter 59

  Chuck boarded the private jet along with John Dobbs.

  There wasn’t the same uncertainty as the last time they’d made this trip together over Labor Day Weekend, whether it was Ryan’s health, or if Chuck would take the job. But flying made Chuck uneasy, and even though he’d been accommodating to him since he began working for the organization, he still found Dobbs to be an intimidating figure. So for numerous reasons, it was going to be an uncomfortable trip.

  But to get home and see his family, it was all worth it. And flying private was still better than commercial, as Chuck would at least have some room to stretch out his large frame.

  They sat in leatherback seats and were met by their usual perky flight attendant, Tatum. “Can I get y’all anything before we take off?” she asked in her soothing southern twang.

  Dobbs peered at her and she inched back, knocking the toothy smile off her face. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  “Sure is—why are you here?” Dobbs questioned.

  “I’m doing my job … shouldn’t I be?”

  “No, you should not.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because the northeast is being hit with a blizzard. And if you come with us, you’re not going to make it back to be with your family for Christmas.”

  She looked relieved she wasn’t being fired. “Duty calls,” she said with a shrug.

  “Then
send Duty to voice mail and get out of here. Full pay for the trip—buy that daughter of yours something nice.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Last I checked, I am the boss. Now get going.”

  Before he changed his mind, she made her way off the plane. “Merry Christmas,” Dobbs shouted to her.

  “Because of you it will be,” Tatum said back with a smile, before exiting.

  “That was really nice of you,” Chuck said.

  Dobbs played it off. “Family is the most important thing.”

  “I can’t disagree with that.”

  Dobbs thought for a moment, and said, “I used to hate Christmas time. When I was first coaching, the players would get a couple days off and they’d come back all fat and happy. They totally lost their edge, and it drove me nuts. But now I live for it. I wouldn’t trade these family visits for ten Stanley Cups.”

  On the subject of his family, “How is Ryan?” The last report Chuck had received was back in October, and it had been encouraging, but he knew how quickly things could change for the worse with that disease, so he chose to tread carefully.

  “He’s one tough son of a gun. Right now it’s a matter of building strength—he’s still really weak. The bone marrow transplant had been a success—it was the infection that almost did him in. Once that hurdle was cleared, he was back on the road to recovery. Now all we can do is cross our fingers and hope for the best.” He chuckled to himself, “Our biggest fear is that he and Heidi will kill each other.”

  Chuck could tell Dobbs didn’t want to dwell on the Ryan subject, and since he was the boss, he changed it, “How are you doing? It’s never an easy transition.”

  “It’s been good so far. Coach Bannister and the other coaches have been helpful, and they take my ideas—changing up the power-play last game I think really worked. The NHL is faster, and the players are better, but hockey’s hockey, it hasn’t been a problem.”

  “I wasn’t talking about hockey—if that was going to be an issue, I never would’ve hired you—I mean being away from your loved ones. That’s the hard part.”

  “Carolyn’s doing well so far … at least she hasn’t escaped from school in a few months.”

  He smiled. “I like that kid—she’s got spunk.”

  “And Billy and Dana are so wrapped up in planning their wedding that they probably don’t even know I’m gone. So all’s well on the home-front.”

  “I think you left somebody out … a pretty blonde somebody.”

  He’d left her out on purpose, mainly because he wasn’t sure where they stood. “The whole situation isn’t fair to her. We know the answers, so we avoid the questions. We’re supposed to make a decision when school’s done in June, but I’m not sure what will have changed by then.”

  “A little advice from someone who’s been married for forty years—she’ll let you know when something’s changed. In the meantime, I’d say don’t get so caught up in the future. Enjoy your visit, hug your girls, and have a good time at the wedding.”

  “It’s not gonna be all fun and games though. I’m moving Carolyn here after the winter break. She’s going to have to leave the only place she’s ever known, and her school, and her friends … it might not go well when I tell her.”

  “I wasn’t always the best parent, but I did pick up one important trick of the trade.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Bribery. When in doubt, bribe your kids.”

  “You already helped with that, with the Zamboni. She’s been looking forward to driving it.”

  “You’re going to need more than that.” He handed him tickets. “I hear it’s her favorite singer—she’s coming to Bridgestone Arena in the spring. Front row … backstage passes … should help with the move.”

  Chuck was blown away. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. I told you, it’s all about family. And I consider my employees to be family. If they’re happy, they’re going to do a better job. And if they do a better job, we’ll win more games.”

  Chuck nodded, still looking at the tickets. “She’s going to love this.”

  “Don’t thank me. Lisa got them. It was her idea.”

  “She’s been great in so many ways. Helped me get Carolyn signed up for school, and found me a place to rent, so I can stop living in hotels … although, I think Carolyn might have liked that.”

  Dobbs nodded, and Chuck thought he noticed a smile on the corner of his lips—nah, couldn’t be. “Lisa’s the glue to our family—always thinking of everyone but herself.”

  “She’s not going back to Boston for Christmas?” he asked, since it was just the two of them on the plane, along with the pilot.

  “She and my wife left a few days early. To get some extra time with Ryan … and to avoid flying into a snowstorm like a couple of dumb puck-heads like us.”

  They had a good laugh.

  The plane took off, and Chuck’s knuckles went white until they leveled off.

  “Afraid of flying?” Dobbs asked. The color draining from Chuck’s face was an easy giveaway.

  “Afraid of crashing.”

  “If you’re interested, I’ve got a surefire method to get over it.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  He took out the bottle of Tennessee Whiskey and poured two glasses. They clinked, and sent the burning liquid down their throats.

  “Been one hell of a crazy year, huh, Whitcomb?”

  “Tell me about it, eh.”

  “Sometimes it felt like we were on a five-on-three penalty-kill with no goalie. Taking wicked slap-shots from Gordie Howe and Gretzky,” he paused for a moment. “And Guy Borcher.”

  It was the first time Chuck had ever heard him compliment his son-in-law.

  “Somehow we survived it,” Chuck said.

  Dobbs poured another round and raised his glass, “To survival.”

  “To survival,” Chuck parroted.

  And then the plane shook so hard Chuck almost bounced out of his seat. His white knuckles returned, and his drink spilled.

  The pilot came over the intercom. “Just a little turbulence, guys. No worries, but you might want to put your seat-belts on.”

  Chapter 60

  Billy entered the kitchen. It was an oasis amongst the chaotic desert of decorators, caterers, and ice sculptures that surrounded them. It was the one place on the property where he was able to find solace these days.

  Coach must have had the same idea. He was standing over the sink, peering out the window at his troops. It reminded Billy of Beth, who would use this window to keep her overprotective eye on Carolyn when she used to scamper around the yard as a toddler.

  Billy eased up next to him. “Thanks for all you’ve done this week. We never would have pulled it off without you.”

  “We haven’t pulled anything off yet, Harper … we still have a few days left to mess this thing up.” Then he softened, “I never thought I’d ever get to attend your wedding … and Penny would’ve killed me if I did.”

  About the nicest thing he’d ever said to Billy—he really was getting soft in his old age.

  He continued to stare out the window, at nothing in particular. “You know, this is going to be the 161st wedding I’ve attended of one of my players.”

  Billy mulled over the number … 161. Wow.

  Coach and Penny never had children of their own, but they considered the players to be their family. The doors of their home were always open to them.

  “Of all the players who’ve come through that school, you were always her favorite.”

  He didn’t know that. And it was an honor, indeed. Coach laughed to himself, “She used to say that you must be my son, because no two people could be as stubborn as us and not be related.”

  Billy couldn’t help but to laugh, thinking of some of their past battles. “She was right.”

  “She was always right,” he said, adding, “I think that’s why I was so hard on you sometimes.” Almost as if an apo
logy, or as close as he’d ever get to one.

  He removed his glasses, cleaning the lenses with a napkin—to divert from his emotions, which were getting the best of him—before placing them back on the bridge of his nose.

  He looked again out the window, and Billy followed his stare. Dana and Carolyn were playing in the snow, making snow-angels, Nails at their side. Their giggles echoed off the trees.

  “I’m glad you finally got over that ‘second thought’ bullshit.”

  “What do you mean?” Billy asked, but Coach’s glare proved he still couldn’t fool him.

  “Even a broken clock gets it right twice a day,” Billy conceded.

  Coach disagreed. “I knew you’d get it right this time.”

  “You certainly weren’t basing that confidence on my past history.”

  “I damn well was. Do you know what I liked most about coaching you, Harper?”

  He thought for a moment, and half-smiled. “I’d say my charm … good looks … agreeable personality. Maybe a combination of the three.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s that you made so many dadgum stupid mistakes.”

  “Look who’s flattering me now.”

  “But that’s the thing—you made those mistakes once,” he held up a crooked index finger. “You were the only guy in forty-five years of coaching who never made the same mistake twice. We all mess up in life, but it’s those who repeat it that fail. The ones who learn from it, they’re the champions.”

  This was practically a charm offensive. Billy sure hoped he wasn’t going to tell him that he was dying in his next breath.

  “When I look back, the thing that boggles my mind, Harper, is that through all the seasons and all the players,” he put up the crooked finger again to make his point. “Not one was the same. You would think that coming from a similar area with similar values—hell, I coached the grandchildren of players I’d coached years before—that they’d start to look and feel the same. But not one player was ever the same, no matter how similar the upbringing. You get what I’m saying?”

  Loud and clear—just because Dana and Kelly come from similar worlds, didn’t mean they’re the same. Dana is her own person, and if Billy wanted to be happy, he best stop comparing them.