Dad shook his head and smiled at me as he stepped up for a one-arm hug. Mom wouldn’t move out of the way since she was still examining me. “It’s just awful what that team has been doing. Two and three-game suspensions? Those players deserve much worse than that. They should be out for as long as the guys on your team are. If they cause an injury that takes six months to heal, they’re out for six months.”
I didn’t totally disagree, especially when the hits were blatantly illegal and intentional, but that wasn’t always the case.
“We’ll be okay, Mom.”
“Give him some space.” Joey pulled her away, and we went to the living room.
“When did you guys get in? I thought I was picking you up at eight.” I fell onto the armchair in the corner. I just wanted to sleep until morning skate tomorrow, but that didn’t look like a possibility at this point.
“Oh, we wanted to surprise you.” Mom beamed. “We got an earlier flight so we would have more time together.”
“That’s great.” I rubbed my face and tried to hide my exhaustion. It wasn’t often my family visited from Ottawa, and I was excited to see them, but I almost wished they came after the series was over. I’d rather be able to spend more time with them and show them the city than have them watch me play for the ten-thousandth time.
“We’re also staying longer than we said,” Dad added. I turned to him and waited. “We’re staying a week, so we’ll be here for game five as well.”
“Really?” With the way things were looking, game five might be the end of the series. If the Storm continued taking out our top players, we didn’t stand a chance.
“Yeah, our trips are normally so short, and with the season coming to an end we thought it might be fun to stay a bit longer.” I wondered when they decided on this. Before or after Hartman was injured. Maybe they saw that the end was close too.
“That’s great. Thanks, guys.”
“How are you guys planning to cope with the loss of Hartman and Kozlov?” Joey asked. He grew up playing hockey as well, but decided he didn’t want the same life I had. He wanted a normal high school experience and a chance to go to college. So he played for the joy of it until he was seventeen. As much as my parents threw themselves into my world and tried to stay informed, it was different being able to talk to someone who was professional.
“The coaches have been making some changes to the lines, but we haven’t practiced with them. Our only chance will be at morning skate tomorrow.”
“Right before the game?” Dad asked.
I nodded, taking in their somber faces. “We’ve mixed up lines over the season and practice with different groups, so it shouldn’t be too bad. I do wish we had more time between games, though.”
“You guys will be okay. Three-time champions don’t give up easily.” Joey smiled confidently.
“That’s right. The Fury is the best for a reason,” Mom stated. If only it was my family’s opinion that decided the outcome.
“You’re probably tired, but we made dinner reservations at that steakhouse you and Joey like,” Dad mentioned. “If you’d rather rest, that’s fine.”
I stood up and stretched. “I can always eat. Do I have time to shower first?”
“Yeah, we have about thirty minutes before we have to leave,” he confirmed.
“Perfect. I’ll be quick. Make yourselves at home.” As if they hadn’t already. Half my pantry was out on the counters and since their luggage wasn’t in sight, I figured my parents got set up in the guest room on their own.
I took my bags to my room and hurried to clean up. I hated how I felt after flying. The recycled air and sitting for so long always left me feeling grimy, even in the team’s plane.
I put on a button-up shirt and styled my hair. I preferred wearing a hat whenever possible, but there was no way Mom would let me wear one to a nice restaurant. Luckily, I wasn’t often approached in public. I definitely noticed the stares and attempts at discreet pictures, which I was fine with. Eating at one of the posh downtown restaurants would likely increase the odds of being caught, but hopefully being with my family would dissuade fans from coming over.
A guy could hope. We were much more visible due to the cup finals, and it felt like every surface––buses, window displays, banners on the street lights––had our faces. The local coverage was over the top as well. I’d heard that Nikolai’s girlfriend, Elena, who was the local weather person, was reporting the weather for Salt Lake and Raleigh so everyone knew what we were experiencing on both ends.
I appreciated the support and enthusiasm, but I didn’t want my family caught up in it. If they were spotted by the cameramen in the arena that was one thing. They liked to showcase our parents when they knew they were in town, but eating dinner or walking down the street was another thing entirely.
“You guys ready?” I finished putting on my watch as I walked into the living room. They had changed for the occasion as well. “My, don’t you all look smashing,” I said in my worst attempt at a British accent.
“Please don’t do that.” Joey stood while shaking his head. “It was humiliating enough when you tried in London.”
“They loved it.” I smiled at the memory of eating at a pub and trying to get some of the locals to teach me how to speak with a better accent. It had been a disaster, but the pints were flowing, and it ended up being a family joke we referenced all too often.
“You offended half the people there. The other half were too drunk to notice,” he countered with a smirk.
“Is it close enough to walk, Jason?” Dad asked, interrupting us.