Hockey fans are known for being insane. It’s a sport that fuels drama, and everyone knows about the riots after a season comes to its final conclusion. Still, I’m not prepared for any of this “comeback” shit. I just wanted to play. When I look out from Jacqueline’s window, I can’t help but feel a certain sense of pride wash over me.

Fan upon fan lines up outside her door. Some are holding signs that read, “Lawrence is King!” or “Fight for Lawrence!” It doesn’t make any sense. None of it does.

“Guys, I’m looking on my tablet and every news outlet in the country is reporting on Lawrence. This is going viral,” Sharon says. “You have to go out there and address them.”

“How the hell did they know I was here?” I ask.

It doesn’t take long for me to remember. The night I came back was overwhelming for both of us, but there was that short moment when I went to give out candy to some trick-or-treaters.

“No way.” I laugh out loud. “It must have been that guy on Halloween. The dad. He must’ve told people.”

“You think?” Jacqueline asks.

“I can’t come up with any other logical conclusions,” I say.

Sharon walks back over to the TV and turns it back onto the local news station.

“…and we’ve got word that Lawrence Jones may indeed be inside this house…”

There’s a live camera focused right on the window. I can see baby George peeking through with her momma.

“Go out there,” she says to me.

I feel the courage creep inside of me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this type of thing. It feels so weird,” I say.

But my legs are carrying me to the door and I know what I have to do.

“Time to face the cameras again,” I mutter. “But I don’t want to do this alone this time. Come on, kitten. Let’s make our announcement.”

“To the world? Like this?” she asks.

“Hell yes, momma. I want the world to see our baby boy,” I say.

She walks toward me. George is smiling, just like he always does. I open the door and hear the roaring thunder of the crowd. I close my eyes for one second and I feel it again. I feel that cold, winter feeling. The ice from the rink. The cheering crowd in the arena. The smell of popcorn. It all comes back to me.

“I remember it,” I whisper to myself.

Suddenly, we’re on the first step of the porch, standing triumphantly. “Lawrence!” the crowd chants, over and over again.

“No, no, no,” I call out. I hold out a hand for them to lay off a bit. The crowd stops. “I’m sorry I’ve disappointed so many of you by leaving. You all are chanting the wrong name here. The names you want to be issuing praise to is this woman and my son.”

I hear someone whisper, “It’s true?”

“While I was gone, I went through a lot. However, I could never understand what this little lady has gone through. So if you want to chant any names. Let it be Jacqueline and George,” I say. The crowd cheers their names, before dying out again.

“Someone out there yells, “Why’d you leave?”

I sigh out of guilt. “Commitment issues. A lack of trust in myself and in those who love me. I didn’t think I deserved anything anymore. I checked out,” I say.

“We’re all no different from one another. We’ve all felt guilt. We’ve walked through the halls of pain. Right? And when we do, we tend to take a step back. We analyze where we are with each step we take. Well, I took about ten hundred steps back, until I could push forward again. I hurt a lot of people around me. I want to make amends. I want to play as hard as I used to and take my team to the top. Most of all, I want to raise my kid. He needs two strong, positive role models. So I guess if I have anything else to add, it’s just that I hope the league can find it in their hearts to take me back. I’d sure love to feel that ice-cold breeze on my face again.”

I take a step back, as cameras flash in our faces. George can’t take it anymore and neither can I. When he starts crying, I huddle closer to Jacqueline.

“Let’s get back inside,” I whisper. “This is getting too crazy for one night.”

The mob of sports fans chants. Questions are thrown at us, left and right. Jacqueline runs inside with George. I put out a hand and say, “Thank you everyone for your support! This has been the weirdest press conference I have ever been a part of. Oh yeah, one more thing. I’d like to thank Stan, the guy who gave me a lift to the greyhound bus. I hope you and your daughter are doing well!” The crowd beckons, loudly. “Now go home and be with your loved ones! Goodnight!”

I walk back inside and shut the door behind me. I collapse against the wall. “Shit,” I mutter. “I forgot how stressful these things are.”

“That reaction was golden,” Sharon says, clapping her hands loudly with excitement.

“I thought you hated my guts,” I say.

“Yeah, well, your success reflects onto my girl here. And I can’t let her fail, so I guess you’re in the clear,” she says.

“Alright!” I smile.

“Whatever,” she replies.

Sharon eventually leaves when it’s obvious we’ve stayed up way too late. We’ve got a baby now, so it’s a lot of waking up in the middle of the night. Still, with all the hardship, there is the feeling of accomplishment. Jacqueline and I don’t know the outcome of all of this, but we feel hopeful.

In bed, she likes me to hold her from behind. She feels my chest against her back and my arms clutching around her body. She feels protected, for once in her life.

She whispers, “I know this will all work out. I feel it now. I didn’t before, but I can see the honesty in your face. Everything is going to be just fine.”

“If it is, I only have you to thank. I don’t think I would have come back if it wasn’t for you. I would have ended up just like my father. Probably worse, actually,” I admit.

“Just because we had shitty people in our lives, doesn’t mean we inherit all of their qualities. Maybe sometimes we internalize everything and feel like we have to be just like them,” she says.

“But we don’t,” I whisper and kiss her neck. She shivers lightly.

“Right. We can just be the people we were meant to be. We can live out the dreams we once longed for. We can love again,” she says. “At the end of the day, we make the choice, right?”

“We do,” I say.

“I chose to have George, not because I had to. I think I knew that if I didn’t, I’d regret it forever. I know some people don’t feel that way, and that’s okay. But for me, I needed an extra push in my life. I think I had to become a mother to understand that life could be different for me. I don’t know. Maybe I’m rambling on too much here,” she says.

I close my eyes and smell her hair. I turn to look at our baby boy, sleeping well in his crib.

“You’re not rambling too much,” I say. “I like hearing you talk about these things. It makes a bit sad that I wasn’t here, though. I wish I went through everything with you. I didn’t even get to see him come into the world.”

She turns around. We hold up our hands and press our palms together. We interlock our fingers.

“It was beautiful,” she whispers, eyes watering up. I have to admit, mine start to water too.

“Shit, you’re making me all sentimental,” I say, wiping my eyes. “Why the fuck was I up north wasting time? Why wasn’t I here with you?”

“It’s okay, baby,” she says, kissing me. “You get us now, right? Isn’t that special?”

“It’s lucky. To be honest, I wasn’t positive you’d take me back,” I say.

“And you weren’t positive if the league would take you back. You play a hard game, knocking me up and running away like you did. All the while, your team had to soldier on without you. But they’ll take you back. Just keep going,” she says.

So I keep going and fall into the dreams of our future together.