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“Yep.” Dad offered to come out and say hello to my boys as they come off the ice. He doesn’t really have the time to spare, but youth hockey has always been an important part of his life, so he made an exception. “I’ll keep it quick.”
“No worries.”
With a little difficulty, I do keep it quick. The boys fan it up like a bunch of teenage girls at a Taylor Swift concert. Dad eats that shit up, even if I’m the only one who can tell.
“Thanks, old man,” I tease him when everyone else clears out.
“Anything for you. Headed up to the stands?”
“Yep. Good luck,” I say, giving him a hug. “Tell Cill… never mind. Old habits, I guess.”
“Let’s talk about that sometime soon, kiddo. Now go, it’s almost time.”
I hurry up to where the wives and girlfriends are sitting. Mom and Erin have saved a seat for me. As soon as I take it, Sadie clamors onto my lap.
“He’s number six, Mommy.”
“I know, baby.” I press a kiss to the top of her head, then turn to give greetings to the few fellow family members I’ve already met.
“Hi Isla, I’m Caroline Vaughn.” Very little surprises me, but Gavin Vaughn’s wife does. In the small sea of significant others, she stands out. But not how you’d expect. Most NHL wives are on the polished side. Not like you’d see in the NFL, or NBA, or anything, but they all have made-up faces and freshly done nails. Caroline looks more like she just stepped out of a garden where she grows her own marijuana and might forget to brush her hair before she leaves the house in a pair of paint splattered overalls. I like her instantly.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“How are you adjusting to the move? Quite a bit different than Florida, I imagine,” I say to strike a conversation.
“Oh, definitely, but it feels more like home here. I grew up in small town upstate New York. Florida wasn’t my jam.”
“Well, welcome home.”
“Thank you. This is your daughter?”
“This is Sadie.”
“Hi, Sadie. It’s nice to meet you,” Caroline says.
“Hi! Does your daddy play for the Blades too?”
“No, sweetie,” Caroline answers, laughing. She’s probably close to ten years older than me, Vaughn being one of the more senior players on the team. “My husband does.”
“Which one is he?”
“Gavin Vaughn, number twenty-seven.”
“What numbers are those?” She looks at my mother as she asks, because she gets to teach her numbers and letters. For some reason, she trusts her more than me. It’s always been an amusement for my family how Sadie assigns silent roles. Willa is who she expects to watch all the animated movies with, Pops is everything sports and animals. Grandma is the educator. I’m the food expert and the designated butt wiper.
It is what it is.
“That’s a two and then a seven.”
“Okay, I’ll look for him!”
“You let me know if you see him,” Caroline tells her, obviously amused.
“Do you have kids,” I ask.
“One, she’s sixteen and currently doesn’t find her father’s life that enchanting. Tori is still feeling the sting of moving cross country and leaving a boyfriend behind.”
