Are there always so many fucking people involved in this type of thing?” I growl as Luc and I watch ten people zip around the sidewalk carrying camera equipment.
“You act like you’ve never been on camera before.” Luc grabs my shoulder and gives it a squeeze. He saw how stressed out I was at the Barons family skate with the camera crew and producer following me around. I think he felt bad for me so he stopped by to see how I was doing while we film the final segment here at Daphne’s House. “You’ve done probably about four hundred postgame interviews in the locker room. Remember that.”
I shrug and run a hand through my hair, which makes the hair lady frown. I give her a quick apologetic smile. “In the locker room I’m in my element. I’m comfortable.”
“Why because you’re half naked and panting?” Luc quips.
“Maybe you should do the interview shirtless like you do after games,” Brie suggests. She’s standing beside Luc looking at something on her phone but clearly listening to our conversation. Some things never change. “I can get you hot and sweaty too if that helps.”
I smile down at her and wish I could kiss her right now but we have to keep this professional. “I am definitely taking a rain check on that.”
She smiles and quickly lets our hands tangle, giving mine a squeeze that is way more comforting than the squeeze I got from Luc. Mon Dieu, I love her so damn much. “I’m going to go check on the kids.”
She gives me one more supportive smile and then walks over to where the kids are clustered together on the sidewalk a few feet away. Luc watches her go and then looks at me with an awed grin. “I can’t believe that Starbucks encounter turned into this.”
“Neither can I.” I smile at the memory.
He claps my shoulder again. “I’m going to head out unless you want me to stay.”
“Nah. It’s good. I’ve got more than enough eyeballs staring at me while I do this. Thanks though for swinging by.” I’m grateful for his friendship. It’s funny how life can change in just a few short months.
“You’ve got this, man. Just be yourself.” Luc gives me a smartass grin and glances at Brie again. “Somehow that seems to work.”
“Please know I am mentally flipping you the bird right now.”
He chuckles and waves before turning around and heading down the street.
“Alex,” the producer says and marches over. “We’re good to go. Sit there, in the middle on the top step okay?”
I go to sit down. The stylist charges over and starts to fix my hair.
“Now just do your thing and pretend we’re not even here,” the producer says with a smile and I try not to roll my eyes. This whole day is contrived and set up just for them. They followed me for part of my run with the kids earlier and now they want some of them to stay and ask questions and chat with me on the front stoop, something that we’d never do normally. If they have questions, they ask me on the run or later in the house. She turns and starts to point at them, one by one, and tells them where to sit. She tells Mac to sit on the bottom step, the farthest away from me, but Mac ignores the request and sits to my left on the step beneath me. The producer starts to open her mouth, but the look on my face stops her.
“Okay…start rolling!”
Oh God, someone shoot me now. Reg starts it off as he looks up at me and asks me a question about whether I run because it’s part of my hockey training or because I like it. I tell him it’s the latter and how I used to run a lot as a teen because it got me out of the house. I tell them that I mostly did it in the summer when there was no ice hockey, since I couldn’t afford to pay for time in indoor rinks.
The questions keep coming, ranging from running techniques to hockey questions to general health stuff. I have no idea how any of this will be interesting to hockey fans who watch this show but hey, they’re the experts. After ten minutes the producer says it’s done and everyone gets up to leave, but Reg has more question. “You said you couldn’t afford indoor hockey in the summer, so like were your parents poor?”
My heart beats faster at the mention of my parents.
“I got into hockey when I was nine, which is considered late for most. I was playing on the free rec leagues until a coach saw my potential and got me on a team where the fees were waived and equipment was supplied.”
I feel a weird lump forming in the pit of my stomach. It’s guilt. I feel bad I’m giving him kind of a half-truth or half an answer. My eyes catch Mac’s. She doesn’t look disappointed by my answer, but I realize I am. I don’t want her to think that she has anything to be embarrassed about just because she’s not growing up the way people think you’re supposed to.
I look back at Reg. “And no, my parents weren’t poor. They passed away when I was little. I was in foster care and didn’t have the best luck there, so I left and ended up kind of homeless for a few years because there was no Daphne’s House for me. But I had hockey, thanks to some great coaches who helped me stay in the game.”
I glance up and realize the camera guy is still filming. The rest of the crew is staring with most of their mouths hanging open. The producer is furtively leafing through her notes, probably wondering where the fuck that detail was in her research on me and how she missed it.
“Have you talked about this before?” the producer asks, finally giving up on her notes and staring at me in stunned confusion.
I glance at the camera. Still fucking rolling. Okay well…I guess I’m doing this. And honestly, it doesn’t feel wrong, even if it is fucking uncomfortable and terrifying. I shake my head. “Never. I had misplaced shame. I think all kids in this situation do, even if they didn’t suffer the abuse in the system I did. So when I finally got that first NHL contract, I decided to be the person I always wanted to be—the fun, easygoing guy living his dream without a care in the world. The player who hurls as many jokes as pucks.” I smile, just like the Alex they know would. “I didn’t want to be that guy with the tragic past. The sob story turned success story. I just wanted to be normal.”
“You did a good job,” the producer replies. “So why talk now?”
“Two reasons. Because I realize normal is a myth.” I pause and let my eyes find Brie. She’s standing off to the side, a proud smile on her face and her beautiful brown eyes swimming in tears. “Even the person who looks successful and privileged and ‘normal’ has fought a battle that’s left them with scars, be it mental, physical or both. And I want people to know that. I also want people to know that giving to places like Daphne’s House, whether it’s time or money, actually makes a difference. I didn’t have a place like this, but if I had my life would have been easier. These kids—whether they are homeless or in foster care or here at Daphne’s—these kids can become something amazing. I’m living proof. But people can’t know that unless I tell them so I’m telling them. If it means more people will help kids in the situation I was in, then it’s worth talking about it.”
The entire crew starts clapping except the hair lady, who’s dabbing her eyes with a tissue instead. I have never been so uncomfortable in my life. Mac launches herself off the step she’s sitting on and wraps her arms around my neck in a hug so tight she’s kind of strangling me. And yet it feels fucking fantastic.
“Okay. Well, honestly, Alex I think we got more than we came for. We’re gonna wrap this.” The producer steps forward. I shake her hand keeping the other one around Mac, who’s still hugging me.
Mac finally lets go and her face is all pinched like she’s fighting her emotions. “You’re a badass,” she announces, standing up. I stand up too and watch with relief as the camera crew starts toward their big white van parked down the street.
“Language,” Brie warns her as she walks up. “But yeah, he kind of totally is.”
Mac rolls her eyes at the language police and heads inside. “You two look like you’re going to kiss so I’m outta here.”
The door closes behind her and Brie climbs the steps to join me on the stoop. She stands right in front of me. “Was that honestly okay? Did I sound like a fool?”
“You sounded like a goddamn hero.” She reaches up and wraps her arms around my neck. “And you are.”
She kisses me and once again my self-doubt and anxiety starts to melt away. Yeah, it was worth it. Everything that I’ve gone through. Everything that got me here, to this place with her, was worth it.