Chapter 12

Magnus

The weeks following Thanksgiving were busy for both Jennie and me. We’d fallen into a comfortable pattern that worked well for us. Jennie had even taken over Eight Ball sitting duties, much to Eight Ball’s delight. She rarely shit in my shoes anymore.

As a matter of fact, some of Jennie’s clothes remained in my chest of drawers now, and I loved it. I also enjoyed seeing her pink toothbrush standing happily against my blue one every morning. Got my day started off with a grin. Life was good. Scary good.

What are you doing tomorrow, sweets? Skype had become my lifeline to Jennie when we weren’t together. The Breakers had been on a weeklong road trip, and tonight we were in California. Tomorrow we had an early game in San Jose. We’d traveled from Phoenix earlier in the day.

She gave me one of her adorable smiles. It was always turned up a notch when I added a “sweetheart” or “sweets.” I’m not sure yet. Izzy might be bringing Pop over to watch the game, but mornings aren’t always good for him. We’ll see how he is. What is it with all of these early afternoon games lately anyway?

I wished I knew. We had yet another one o’clock start, which was ten o’clock in the morning for Jennie, considering the time difference between the coasts. I did have to say, though, as much as I missed Jennie, it was nice being in California where the temperature was in the low sixties with sunshine versus being home where the temperature hovered around forty with gray skies.

You know they wouldn’t be my first choice. This is the last early game until February. God, I hope we can beat the Sharks. They killed us in our first showing.

Jennie grimaced. I remember it well. That was an ugly game. Didn’t you get a misconduct that night?

Yeah, but it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t know what the ref was saying. That’s the only reason I kept arguing with him.

She outright laughed at that one. Bullshit. You knew exactly what he was saying! And he knew it too.

Maybe…I needed a ten-minute break anyway.

I’m sure Coach Martin didn’t need you to have a ten-minute break, did he?

It was my turn to make a face. No. He was not happy with me. If we weren’t already down two of our defensemen, I’m damn sure he would have benched me for the next game.

Well, keep your mouth shut tomorrow. I’m going to sign off. You need your sleep, Mags. Fire in your heart, ice in your veins, babe.

Jennie had that quote, along with several others, hanging over her desk at the network. I’d seen them when I’d stopped in to take her to lunch a week or so ago. The first time she’d said it to me, I scored a hat trick, so I added it to my pre-game repertoire.

I kissed my fingers and touched the screen, waiting until she did the same before logging off. It was slowly becoming apparent that I was losing my heart to a reporter, of all people, and I didn’t mind a bit.

***

The Breakers were in a groove, and it felt fantastic. San Jose’s fans tried their best to get under our skin, but it wasn’t affecting our goal scoring. They had a great fan base with sold-out attendance, but I still spotted the odd purple-and-orange Breakers jersey in the crowd. Considering we were a new team, it had an extra cool factor.

The Sharks called a time-out, so we all gathered at our respective benches. Coach wasted no time telling us how he wanted the remainder of the game to go, signing for me so I didn’t miss anything as he looked back and forth between us all. Mags and Dante, I want you to hang back a bit, closer to Cage than to our offense. Let San Jose think we’re going to play the rest of the third period defensively. It might make them cocky enough to get careless with their plays and make the rest of the game a little easier on us.

Don’t any of you get comfortable, though. We’re only up two goals, and with over ten minutes to go, I don’t have to tell you that this game’s not in the bag yet. So, hang back a bit, but when you see an opening, go balls to the wall after that puck. Are we clear?

We were clear. No one argued with the coach on game day. I didn’t like it when Coach kept me on a leash, but I’d do what he asked of me. It was hard, though, not being at my position of choice on the blue line, when our forwards were so close to the Sharks’ net. I wanted a chance to slap that puck in for another goal. Three goals up in the last period? Now that would be enough to have the game in the bag.

“Ah, shit.” It could take just one big play to even out the odds in a hockey game. And here came a potential game changer. Four of the Sharks were bearing down on Dante and me. They’d gotten around our offense, and now it was four on two. I was not comfortable with our deficit. That was another reason I didn’t like hanging back too far. If Dante and I had been at the blue line instead of the center red line, we might have had a chance to keep them from breaking through our other guys.

I skated backward at a furious speed just to keep my position covering the guy with the puck. It was still four on two. Not a good spot to be in, but O’Dell and Bucknell were catching up—though it didn’t look like they’d be in position before San Jose got a shot off.

As soon as they let the puck fly, I did what I had to do and dove in front of it. “Fucker!” The puck hit me hard in the foot. That was going to leave a mark, if it wasn’t actually broken.

At least my bodily sacrifice did the job. O’Dell got the puck back and took it down ice once more. I was able to get back to the bench under my own steam, but it wasn’t pretty. There was no sitting down for me once I got there either. Our trainer led me straight down the tunnel, hobbling all the way, to get an x-ray and see what was what.

Lucky for me, I’d dodged a bullet. I might have to miss a game or two, but I hadn’t broken bones. With how bad it was already hurting and swelling, I couldn’t imagine how it being broken could have hurt any more than it did, though.

At least we won the game. Go Breakers.

***

Jennie: Call me!

That was one of the tough things about someone seeing you get hurt. Your friends and family wanted immediate updates when something went awry. I understood completely, but there simply wasn’t always time to contact them right away.

By the time I was able to answer her text, a full hour had gone by.

Me: You know me calling you does no good. I can’t hear you.

Every once in a while I tried to make my hearing impairment work to my advantage.

Jennie: YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!

Well, damn. The universal use of caps in texting worked well for no man.

Me: Okay, honey. I’m sorry. You know how hockey goes, but I was in x-ray and then with the doctor. My phone wasn’t with me.

Yeah, that sounded lame even to my ears. If it were Jennie in my position, I’d be pissed as all get out.

Jennie: I get it, Mags, I do. But, dammit I was worried. At least Rio called me.

Me: Rio called you?

Jennie: Yes. He thought I might want to hear that you weren’t in the hospital or anything.

That was just too much.

Me: Why would I be in the hospital? Even if it was broken they probably would have just made me wear a boot.

Jennie: You could have thrown a blood clot or something. It’s happened before.

I couldn’t recall that, but I wasn’t about to argue with her.

Me: I’m sorry. I promise, I’m fine. I’m going to miss one or two games, but there are no blood clots and nothing’s broken. Okay?

Jennie: Okay, and I’m sorry. I may have overreacted.

Me: It’s nice that you care.

Jennie: I do care. A lot. Have a safe flight.

***

I was not a good traveler. By the time I got home, I was hungry, tired, and irritable. Not to mention sore. My foot was still throbbing, although the intensity had dissipated enough to forgo more pain pills. All of those things went away when I saw my sweet Jennie curled up on my couch with Eight Ball tucked into her side. I hadn’t even noticed Jennie’s car outside.

I gently put my travel bag down and limped over to her sleeping form. What a sight for sore eyes she was. I wanted to capture that sight forever, and then I realized I could. Instead of using my tablet to do so—which would take a better picture, to be sure—I used the camera on my phone so that I could pull it up wherever I was.

Neither Jennie nor Eight Ball moved when the flash went off, brightening the room. The only other light came from the fireplace. After snapping my picture, I made myself move away to leave her to rest.

My foot made contact with something on the floor as I ambled over to a chair next to the fire, making me wince. It was a notebook. I picked it up and discovered an article she was working on entitled “Loved Ones on the Couch.”

Watching sports on television isn’t always all fun and games.

Spouses, friends, and lovers of athletes are overlooked in the scheme of things. What does one do when they see someone they care about getting injured in the name of the game? Who hears their cry of terror of the unknown? Who feels that stab of fear they experience in that often heart-stopping moment?

My eyes widened as I read the words she’d written. Just those few sentences had me re-evaluating my thoughts on the matter. She was right. Most of the time when we got hurt, it wasn’t anything a bit of time wouldn’t heal, but how did our loved ones know that? How long did they have to wait to hear if we were going to be okay or if there was a more serious problem?

I remembered watching a hockey game when I was young where the goalie had his jugular sliced by an errant skate. The emergency crew swore that if he hadn’t been at the end of the ice where the crew stood, he would have bled out before they could have reached him. That quick, he could have been gone. It was a freak accident that would probably never happen again, but it did happen. I couldn’t imagine the terror his family and friends endured before they were able to get a report on his condition. It was a miracle he lived to skate another day.

Since I’d had no love for reporters in the past, I’d never read any of Jennie’s articles. That was going to change. She took an interest in my career, and I wanted to take an interest in hers. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for me to shake the moniker of the Silent Defender and retire his non-speaking ways. Maybe I should become the poster boy for hearing-impaired athletes. God knew it was hard enough for me to fight my way into the pros. Was it possible I could smooth the way for others? Could I be a voice for kids who thought they’d never be able to overcome their disability? I’d have to think about that—but later. Right now it was time to get some sleep.

I woke Jennie with a kiss to her forehead. “Come to bed, sweetheart.”

She looked up at me and stretched her arms above her head as Eight Ball gracefully jumped to the floor. “Magnus.” Her smile transformed her sleepy face. “I hope you don’t mind me being here. I missed you.”

“Mind? Are you crazy? I was miserable when I got home until I saw you. You’re my very own Sleeping Beauty.”

“How’s your foot?”

“Hurts like hell.” I bent toward her and she molded herself to me, allowing me to scoop her up in my arms. Her head nestled in the crook of my neck as if it were instinct. Even though Jennie drove my hormones into overdrive, at the moment I was only thinking of how much I wanted her by my side always. I limped my way into the bedroom, Jennie still in my arms. It had happened damn quick, but there it was. Ass over tea kettle, I was in love with this woman.