Shutout

by Jami Davenport

  I dialed my mother. Mom was as excited as I was. Mom had been the consummate hockey mom after my dad had died and she’d been forced to raise us on her own. She’d gone to every game when we were kids, not an easy feat considering there were three of us, but she managed to juggle her responsibilities and support us at the same time. She was a computer programmer and made pretty good money.

  My brother Zane was starting his third year in the league. My younger brother, Max, played junior hockey and lived at home. Mom would tell Max.

  After I hung up with Mom, I called Zane. He answered on the first ring as if he’d been waiting for my call. “Well?” he said, not giving me a chance to say hello, how are you, or fuck you.

  “I’m a Sockeye,” I blurted out. Zane let out a whoop, enjoying this moment almost as much as I did. I heard him say something and then heard clapping.

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m having lunch with some of the guys. We’re all happy for you.”

  “I did it. I really did it. I’d worried so much my choice to go to college might screw with my ability to make a team, but in the end those five years didn’t hurt me one bit.”

  “You made the right choice for you, E.”

  “I did,” I said proudly. I could’ve followed in Zane’s footsteps and gone the major-junior route. Things had worked out great for him. Now they were working out for me.

  All those hours of practicing, playing through injuries, and sacrifice culminated in this moment. I’d worked my entire life to be here and allowed nothing and no one to stand in my way.

  Chapter 5—Just Do It

  ~~Caroline~~

  It’d been a month since I’d gotten the devastating news from the DNA test. I hadn’t talked to Easton yet; instead I’d worried myself into an absolute frenzy of fear, dread, and loathing of my own shortcomings. I conjured up all kinds of scenarios in my head, and most of them weren’t good. What if Easton didn’t want to know his kids? Even worse, what if he took me to court for custody? I’d never have enough money to fight him legally. What if? What if? What if?

  No matter what, I knew I had to tell him. My life had been put on hold until I told him, as had Fran and Howard’s. They weren’t leaving me for their well-deserved retirement until we’d resolved this. And what would be the resolution? Once Fran and Howard left, there was nothing to keep me here. I had so many questions and zero answers.

  I was still amazed they’d forgiven me as fully as they had, a testament to what good people they were.

  I’d left Hailey with Fran and Howard to fill the role of hockey mom and shuttle Heath to practice. I searched the group of kids skating around the rink, easily picking out my son. He was bigger than most his age, with a determination not usually present in children so young. So much like his father. I didn’t know why I hadn’t seen the similarities before.

  Heath had dark hair and eyes. Ice skating and hockey were his jam. He looked like Easton. Hailey, on the other hand, favored me—small and petite with blonde curls. She was all girl, loving pink and figure skating.

  Heath glanced up as he streaked by, intent on his skating. His face was the picture of ultimate concentration as he focused on the puck.

  After taking out my ever-present day planner, I opened it and wrote a few notes of things to do later this evening once I’d put the children to bed. The first thing I wrote was Call Easton. I’d called the number he’d had that summer several times, and each time, I’d ended the call before the first ring.

  Heath fought for the puck with another kid, and the two of them went down still battling it out. The coaches separated them, and Heath sprang to his feet, looking triumphant. I frowned. As the mother of a child who’d just gotten in a fight, I wasn’t thrilled, but my baby boy was ecstatic. He skated toward me with a broad smile on his face. When he saw me smiling back, he frowned and looked away.

  Since his father, Mark, had died, the only place Heath seemed happy was on the ice. Sometimes I swore he personally blamed me for Mark’s death. I guess it was easier to hoist your frustration and grief on the one who loved you most, knowing they’d be there no matter what.

  He skated past me and along the boards. The kid he’d scuffled with caught up to him, and they talked and laughed as they skated, their differences already forgotten. Kids were like that. I wish adults were better at forgetting the bad things.

  I wish I was.

  He came around again and waved his stick at the coach, grinning with that one dimple, a dimple so much like someone else’s my heart thudded longingly in my chest.

  Longingly?

  This had to stop. Easton might be the father of my children, but we weren’t anything to each other. He’d broken my heart all those years ago, and I’d made a promise to myself that I’d never allow a man like him the ability to hurt me again. He’d not just hurt me, he’d destroyed me with his callous words the last night we were together.

  Shaking off the memories, I concentrated on my son, even as the similarities made it increasingly difficult to banish Easton from my thoughts.

  An hour later, I pulled up to Fran and Howard’s house, noticing a For Sale sign in the front yard. That was new. Momentary panic grabbed me, but I shoved it away. I was happy for them. They were moving on, as I needed to move on.

  As soon as I neared the front door, Hailey burst out the front door of her grandparents’ house and streaked across the lawn. Her long blonde hair streamed behind her, and she threw herself into my arms. I picked her up and hugged her tightly. She squealed and wriggled out of my arms, turning to her brother with a nonstop flood of words. He stared impassively at her and headed into the house, his sister hot on his tail and talking a million miles a minute.

  Minutes later, they were seated at the breakfast nook, eating some of Fran’s savory stew. Fran and I sat in the living room, while Howard watched sports on TV. Howard loved sports. It didn’t matter what kind.

  “I saw the For Sale sign.”

  “It’s time, honey. We have to sell this place. We’d both promised each other months ago that we wouldn’t spend another cold winter in Illinois. Besides, we can’t afford the payments on both houses.”

  “I’m happy for you. I really am.”

  Fran studied me with troubled eyes. “What will you do? Where will you go?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m not staying here. I need a fresh start.”

  “You can always join us in Arizona.”

  The invitation was beyond temping, yet I’d never wanted to live in Arizona. I didn’t like really hot places. I was a Chicago girl and didn’t mind the cold.

  Fran shrugged at my lack of response. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. You know that. Have you given any thought to getting a nursing degree?”

  I hadn’t. Not really. The only thing I’d come up with was to start as a nurse’s aide and figure it out from there. Sadly, a nurse’s aide salary would make it difficult to comfortably support two young children on a single income, let alone save money for nursing school.

  I was the queen of indecision, and I was running out of time and money. I had to choose a direction and work toward whatever goal I set.

  “Have you called Easton yet?” Fran asked.

  Ah, there was the elephant in the room. They’d left me alone about Easton, but now the pressure was on. The Mills’ house was on the market, and they’d no longer be available to be my crutch.

  I shook my head, glancing briefly at Fran and looking away, ashamed of my cowardice. I cringed at the censure on her face. I’d disappointed her one more time. Avoiding the inevitable was no longer working for me.

  “I’ll call him tonight after the kids are tucked in.”

  “I’m going to hold you to it. No more putting it off.” Fran’s determined expression didn’t allow any argument. Tonight was the night.

  ~~Easton~~

  We were one month into the regular season. I was playing well on the third line, might even be moved up to second. I’d scored a coupl
e NHL goals and had multiple assists. Everything was going my way, yet I couldn’t shake this funk I was in.

  Kaden, Steele, and I had leased a condo overlooking Lake Union within easy walking distance of the practice facility. It came fully furnished, and we didn’t add any personal touches to the place. Steele was a neat freak and always picking up our crap, while Kaden and I cared less about a tidy home. We did have a housekeeper come in once a week to do the deep cleaning. All in all, we were three bachelors living the good life.

  After practice, I didn’t leave the ice when the rest of my teammates did. I stayed and skated along the boards at a leisurely pace, hands behind my back. I concentrated on the feel of my blades sliding along the slick surface, listened to the swish-swish sound, and tried to find the zone, which had eluded me recently. Skating had always been a form of meditation for me, but lately not so much. I stopped and stared upward at the Sockeyes logo on the wall in the practice facility.

  Being here had been my goal, but now that I’d reached the top of the pile, I was vaguely disappointed. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I shake the feeling something was missing?

  With a sigh, I skated off the ice. By the time I entered the locker room, everyone had left. I changed into street clothes but didn’t want to go home just yet.

  I wandered around the team lounge, watched some game tape, and felt totally lost and alone. I slumped down in a chair and hugged my coffee cup, staring out the bank of windows at the Space Needle nearby.

  I’d been out a little too late last night, drunk too much, and now I was paying for it. I’d been sluggish in practice, and the coaches had noticed. Cousin Coop had ridden my ass, constantly bitching at me. He was hardest on me, probably because he expected more from me and to prove he wasn’t showing favoritism.

  The door opened, but I didn’t look up. I wasn’t in the mood for company. Hopefully, if I ignored whoever it was, they’d go away.

  “You don’t seem overly happy for a rookie who’s taking the NHL by storm.” Ice sat down next to me at a table in the team lounge.

  I glanced up at my captain, ready to deny I was anything but ecstatic, only no words came. Ice didn’t tolerate bullshit, and by the look on his face, any protest on my part would be just that. He saw right through me. The room was empty. I doubted anyone else would be crazy enough to be at the practice facility after the practice we’d had. They’d scattered to nurse their wounds or drink them into oblivion.

  I needed someone to talk to. I didn’t dare talk to Uncle Coop. He was in his first year of coaching and super-focused on doing a good job himself. He wouldn’t understand why I was feeling anything but giddy.

  “You noticed?” I said.

  “I notice everything.” Ice took a sip of his coffee and studied me without saying a word.

  “I don’t want to sound like I’m an entitled, ungrateful asshole.”

  “Well, we all sound like that at times, so fess up. What’s going on?” Ice wasn’t the touchy-feely type, nor was he talkative. The fact that he was sitting here with me having a conversation that didn’t focus on hockey was highly unusual. He was the captain, and he took it seriously, so he was doing his job. I tried not to read any more into his concern than an overall interest in his team’s well-being.

  “I don’t know. I feel off. I thought making it to the NHL would be everything I’d ever dreamed of. I’ve worked so hard for this. Now that I’m here, I’m looking around and wondering shouldn’t there be more? I’m empty inside. Something’s missing, and I’m pissed at myself that hockey isn’t enough. Don’t get me wrong, I love hockey. I live for hockey, but there has to be more, doesn’t there? I gave up a lot to be here.” I hadn’t planned on dumping on him like that, but the words came out before I could stop them.

  He considered my words for several seconds before speaking. “Did you give up someone special?” he guessed. The hard lines of his face softened slightly.

  I blinked a few times, ready to deny his claim, then really thought about it. “I don’t know.”

  He nodded sagely, as if he understood totally. I knew he was madly in love with his wife. Whenever she was in the room, this enigmatic, hard-to-read man turned into a sappy, lovesick fool.

  “There was this girl when I was sixteen, had two years left of high school. I walked away from her, thinking hockey was all I needed. I tracked her down a couple years ago. She’s married with kids, and I can’t stop thinking her husband has my life, the life I should’ve had. It’s weird.”

  “It’s not weird. All the money and fame and even your passion for hockey don’t mean much without someone to share it with. Take it from a guy who knows.”

  “Do you ever wonder about the road not taken?” I asked him.

  “Not much anymore because the road I travelled ended up being the best journey I could imagine, and I wouldn’t change a thing, not even the painful parts, because it got me where I am today. She’s your past. You need to live your present. There’ll be someone else, someone even more perfect for you. You have to believe in fate. When you’re least looking for love, it finds you.”

  Well, I wasn’t looking. I must’ve been gaping at him with an open mouth and something akin to shock because he chuckled.

  “If you tell anyone about this conversation, I’ll kick your ass,” he said.

  “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  With a nod, he stood and left the room. I watched him go, deep in thought. I was twenty-three. I was a Puck Brother, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t need a woman to complete me or nag at me or try to control me. This entire conversation with Ice had been like something out of those old Twilight Zone shows Steele liked to watch.

  What the fuck was wrong with me?

  I didn’t know why I wasn’t enjoying the rookie experience as much as I should be, but that emptiness inside me had nothing to do with a woman. Maybe more like wanting something I couldn’t have. Some deeply buried part of me had always assumed Caro would be waiting when I chose to come back and claim her.

  The entire thing had been eating at me lately, and my feelings on the matter were ludicrous.

  With a sigh, I pushed to my feet. Time to go home and see what culinary delight Kaden had concocted. The man could cook.

  I walked wearily to my truck. I did need a nap.

  I slipped into the leather seat of my Chevy 2500HD and started the engine. It purred like the finely tuned machine it was. I don’t know why I bought this truck. It wasn’t like I pulled a trailer or hauled heavy shit with it. My ego must’ve been talking when I’d gone car shopping after getting my signing bonus.

  I went home to the condo and hung out with Steele for the night, playing video games and watching a game.

  I was about to call it a night when my phone rang. I frowned at the device. When someone called this late, it wasn’t necessarily good. Maybe one of the Puck Bros had been arrested and needed bailed out.

  I picked it up. Not recognizing the number, I considered letting it go to voicemail, but I was inexplicably compelled to answer that call.

  “Yeah?” I said, waiting to chew some solicitor’s ass. A long silence followed. I almost hung up but didn’t.

  “Easton?” The hesitant female voice struck a nerve deep inside me, bringing back melancholy memories of another time and place. I knew that voice, but I was in denial.

  “Yeah.” Suspicion crept into my tone. Had some recent one-night stand managed to get my phone number? There’d been a few. Not a lot, but enough to keep my standing as a Puck Brother intact.

  “It’s—it’s Caroline. Caroline Mills, uh, Jones.”

  I gaped at the phone as if I expected a monster to emerge from the screen and swallow me in one big gulp. My palm was sweaty, and the device started to slip from my hand. I fumbled to catch it before it hit the floorboard.

  Caroline?

  I gripped the phone until my knuckles were white. My breathing was rapid and shallow like I was about to have a fucking panic attack or exhibit som
e stupid wussy behavior my teammates would be appalled to witness. A quick glance around the room didn’t reveal my roommates had appeared out of the woodwork to witness my loss of composure and near breakdown. I unclenched my hand from the phone before I crushed it. My fucking hands were shaking. My forehead had broken out in a sweat.

  I had to be coming down with the flu. A voice from the past wouldn’t affect me like this.

  I cleared my throat, praying my tone didn’t betray my emotions, uh, correction, the state of my health. “Caro, what a surprise.”

  I gave myself a mental pat on the back. I’d given nothing away.

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “How did you get my number?” I wondered out loud.

  “It’s the same one you had back when we…we were friends.”

  “Friends?” I barked out a disbelieving laugh. We’d been way more than friends that summer, and my depraved mind immediately conjured up images of Caro’s gorgeous body naked in the moonlight. I swallowed hard and couldn’t stop my dick from responding to those memories.

  Our passion had been hot and blinding. Judging by the difficulty I’d had wiping her from my thoughts recently, also epically memorable.

  “Yes, we were friends.” Her accusing words cut deep. She was right. We’d been more than fuck buddies. We’d been each other’s confidants and sounding boards. We’d spent hours talking about our hopes and dreams. She’d planned on attending nursing school in the fall. I had two more years of school and would be going the college route to further my hockey career.

  I’d ended it badly with her. Instead of making promises I couldn’t keep, I’d been bluntly honest and told her we were too young, had no future, and had a great time while it lasted. I’d cut her loose and myself, never telling her I loved her, because at sixteen, I didn’t know what love was.