“I do.”
“You sure? It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re wearing full face paint.”
“Ha ha. One day, you’re going to meet a girl who loves you enough to look this stupid for you, too.”
“A guy can only hope.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SEAN
I’ve already showered and changed, my gear bag slung over my shoulder as I step into Otto’s office with a smile on my face. Not because I know what he’s going to say—I don’t—but because of Kayla.
My wife.
She showed up with a pom pom, foam finger, her face painted half red, half blue, wearing my jersey and the biggest, sexiest, most supportive grin I’ve ever seen.
How could I not smile?
“You look satisfied with your performance,” Otto says.
“I am,” I tell him. “I gave it my all. What you decide to do with that is out of my control.”
Otto clasps his hands in front of his face. “What do you think about Hall?”
Here it is: the big question. Am I worth a roster spot or did I serve a different purpose? Did I simply pad out the drills so they could evaluate someone with a brighter future?
I clear my throat, wishing it didn’t hurt to do so. “I think he’s got what it takes to be big.”
“I agree.”
My lungs clench. But I think about Kayla, about how she chose me. She’s choosing me. Always and forever. If I don’t make the Arsenal, at least I can say I gave it a real shot. I fought for the spot this time.
“Sean, we knew what to expect from you on the first day of camp,” Otto says.
Part of me wants to duck my head, to listen without letting the emotion of being passed over weigh me down. But I can’t do that to myself. I can’t get disappointed at a team for not picking me when I don’t act like I deserve it. So I keep my chin up and look Otto in the eye as he talks.
“Solid, reliable performance, every time. Steady, like a heartbeat.”
I nod.
“That’s what you are, Sean: the heart. You’re not flashy like … human jazz hands,” he says, and I can’t help but chuckle. “But the team can’t work without you. You keep everyone going. You give them the strength to perform their jobs better. That’s an important job at any level. At elite levels, it’s crucial. The heart can’t be too proud of its own job to make the other jobs better. Do you understand?”
“No,” I admit. “I’m not sure I do.”
“We brought you here knowing we already wanted you on the team next year. You outperformed our backup goalie in the playoffs. You played like a starter. We’d be fools not to offer you a three-year contract. Fortunately for both of us, we’re not fools. The spot is yours.”
A laugh explodes from my lips, loud and a little shaky. The tightness in my chest feels more like my heart is too big for my body.
“Thank you!” I say. “I accept!”
“You must be wondering why we brought you here at all, given we already planned to extend the contract.”
“I … uh, yeah. You … wait, you already knew?”
Otto chuckles now. “We wanted to see how you’d work with younger players, particularly one who would one day be your replacement. Maybe it won’t be Hall, but it will be someone, someday. And personally, I wanted to see if you have what it takes to bemyreplacement one day. When your playing days are done, that is.”
A rush of awe, gratitude, and humility overtakes me. Otto Hanninen is the best goalie coach in the league. I’ve never thought about coaching before, and I don’t want to … yet. I’m not there. But someday?
