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“Should I go?” Deanna asks when I open the door. “You don’t look happy to see me. I brought wine.” She shakes the bottle of wine in her hand.

“I didn’t know you were coming.” I step aside for her to come in. “But you have wine.” Hopefully my smile looks real. “Shouldn’t you be at the game, though?” I ask as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Brayden is so focused on hockey right now, he won’t miss me not being there. Besides, a little birdie told me that he would be able to relax if he knew you had company, so here I am.” All the while she’s talking, she’s rummaging through the kitchen to search for a corkscrew. “Grab some glasses and help me out, will you?”

I do as she asks and give her the corkscrew as well.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she asks and I shake my head, causing her to sigh. “Julie, you’re killing me.” She pours us each a glass of wine before placing an order for Chinese food. “Let’s sit.”

Since my evening is officially in the hands of someone else, I follow her lead. I wait for her to ask me the inevitable “how are you” question. It makes me realize how anxious I am over being asked such a simple question, too. Instead, Deanna talks gossip. I don’t even know some of the people she’s talking about. But I’m grateful for what she’s doing because it allows me to slowly relax.

Our food is delivered just as the game starts.

Four minutes in, Collin scores a goal. Maybe I’m crazy, but his celebration seems different.

“He was in bad shape while you were…” Deanna’s voice trails off. “Gone,” she finishes. “It may not have shown on the ice, but he was in therapy or on the phone with his therapist every day. Cal and Brayden wouldn’t leave him alone either. He has a lot of guilt about what happened before…”

Before? It takes me a minute to realize exactly what she’s talking about. “Him asking me to leave, you mean?” Deanna nods in confirmation. “That doesn’t really matter, though.” Dwight would have gotten to me one way or another. “He shouldn’t feel guilty.”

“Maybe you should tell him that.”

We fall silent as an underwear commercial comes on.

“Are you okay?” Deanna finally asks.

“Yeah.”

“Think we’ll win?”

I smile. “I hope so. We could all use more wins.” It’s then and there that I decide to take full advantage of this game and Deanna as a distraction. I turn toward her a bit. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you like being immersed into their world? Being around all the spouses and other players? Being involved in the community they have going?”

Deanna seems to mull over my question before answering. “I’m only involved as much as I want to be, but yes, I enjoy it. I…I don’t have much family and it was like I gained a great big family. There are ups and downs, but one thing remains true: the Rebels are always there for one another.” She seems to let me think about this before she asks, “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I tend to stick to myself. The Rebels family is intimidating and overwhelming. I was kind of hoping I could just stick with Collin.” Her eyes widen a little. “And you and Brayden.” As an afterthought, I add, “And Cal.”

Deanna laughs. “Believe it or not, there are little cliques within the spouses. We could be your clique. And nothing is expected. If it is, then,” she shrugs, “oh well. You do what you want. Have you told Collin?”

“With all that’s going on, I can’t even remember if I have or not.”

“Don’t worry about things like this, Julie. Really. Do what you want and it’ll all work out. Something tells me Collin doesn’t care how involved or uninvolved you are.”

The blaring of a horn drags our attention back to the TV; the Rebels have scored again. I let our talk fall to the wayside and focus on the game. For the first time in two weeks, in months, I feel decent. Good, even.

We watch the extremely physical game; I’d forgotten how brutal a playoff game can be. From the hits to the fights to the aggressive play, teams transform their behavior and push everyone to their limits. I’m not much of a fan, at least I don’t consider myself one, but I can get lost in a game. Watching players rush down the ice, swiveling around another player, standing idly at times during a power play and trying to decide what to do. It’s all fascinating.

Deanna keeps a steady pour on our wine glasses to keep them full until the bottle is empty. I curl up on the couch, leaning on the throw pillow.

The game gives way to a dark room with Dwight rambling nonsense as he paces. Over and over he paces and mumbles. Louder and louder his voice gets.

“Jules.”

A loud shriek bubbles out of my throat as I jump up, ramming my head into Collin’s chin in the process.

“Shit, Julie.” He rubs my forehead while I blink and try to regain my senses. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You okay?” His eyes fill with concern.

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