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So yeah, sitting at dinner with these guys in a nice steakhouse with good food and pricey liquor, I can tell it’s not going to be as uncomfortable as I worried it would be when I accepted the invitation.
We’ve ordered drinks, perused the menu, and made our selections. Bread has been delivered, and I listen as the guys joke amongst themselves, talking about their girlfriends and their plans for the remainder of summer. Training camp starts in seven weeks, and most of the players are doing some heavy traveling before then.
Gage and Jenna are heading to California to hang with her parents for a bit, then to Iowa to spend time with his family.
Even though Stone and Harlow vacationed in St. Lucia last month, they’re spending a few weeks up in Martha’s Vineyard in mid-August.
And Baden and Sophie are itching to get away as they’ve been spending the first part of the off-season remodeling an old Victorian house. They’re off to Greece.
I remember those days… using the off-season to satisfy wanderlust and truly relax. It’s essential to have the mental and physical break, and part of me is nostalgic hearing their travel plans.
“What about you?” Stone asks, his eyes coming to me. “Going anywhere or are you just hanging out at the cabin?”
“Just the cabin.” I might be a little nostalgic, but I have no desire to travel. Besides, Tillie’s right there, and she’s really all I’ve needed the last few weeks.
“Aren’t you bored?” Gage asks.
“No way. I hike almost every day, been fishing and doing a lot of work on the outside of the house. I fixed up the koi pond, and I’m thinking about building a gazebo.”
Baden shudders in an overly dramatic fashion. “I’m so over building and remodeling right now.”
I laugh, stirring my bourbon and soda with the small, colorful straw. “Well, I might be at some point, but for now, I love it. Buying that cabin was the best thing I’ve done in a long time.”
Because I met Tillie.
Admittedly, though, sitting here with the guys has me curious beyond all measure. I know I should keep my mouth shut, but I ask the question that will betray my previous statement that I’m done with hockey.
“How’s the team looking for the season?” I ask nonchalantly, schooling my face into a placid expression of mild interest.
“Not bad,” Gage says. “A lot of guys returning, but some good trades being made.”
Now that Gage is officially a member of the coaching staff, he has insider knowledge right along with Baden.
“The goalie situation has become a problem,” Baden chimes in. Our primary goalie, Jesper Keane, got injured late in the season, and our backup, Patrik Stenlund, just couldn’t hold it together. His play was inconsistent and unreliable. He’s a perfect example of someone brought up from the minors who couldn’t handle the transition to major league hockey. “Brienne’s going to reach out to Drake again.”
“Drake McGinn?” I ask. He’s the only Drake associated with the league who is a goalie.
Not that he’s actually in the league anymore. He left last year after a major betting scandal or some shit. I can’t recall the details.
“That’s the one,” Baden says grimly. “He met with Brienne when she was actively building the new team, and things didn’t go well.”
“As evidenced by the fact he’s not on the team,” Stone says.
“What happened?” I ask.
Stone, Gage, and Baden exchange looks that are somewhere between amused and frustrated. Clearly they all know the story, and why wouldn’t they? They bonded. They shared stories and information while the season progressed. I cut myself off from all relationships, because I didn’t think I deserved them and I was mired deep inside my own fucked up head.
“Oh, it was a fucking disaster,” Baden says with a mirthless chuckle. “Brienne inadvertently insulted him by asking about his kids and how he’d care for them, and he essentially told her to fuck off. The meeting lasted less than three minutes.”
I shake my head. “Damn. So, she’s going to try again?”
“I’m thinking there will be groveling involved, but yeah… she’s going to reach out to him.”
Gage laughs. “I can’t imagine Brienne Norcross groveling to anyone.”
I smile. While I don’t have much good to say about the hockey season from my perspective, I have mad respect for the way Brienne took over the team. For knowing almost nothing about the sport, she sure has proven she has the ability to turn shit into gold.
“What about Cannon West?” I ask just as the server arrives with our salads. He sets them down before each of us. “Has he moved to Pittsburgh yet?”
