Game six was in Boston. The Bruins. Clay’s team.
I paced my small living room. Tonight, it was just red wine. The Kraken were ahead. All they had to do was keep the other team from scoring. The camera shot to my sister, sitting in the section reserved for players’ wives and girlfriends. She was pulling her turtleneck up over her mouth - a tell sign she was nervous and didn’t want to watch. I had seen that a hundred times growing up when one of us girls was getting in trouble.
Brett had the puck but was dancing around the ice. I started screaming at the screen. “Hand around. Christ, Brett!”
As if he’d heard me, he turned and made a pass with the backside of his blade. His teammate took the puck, but it was immediately taken back by the Bruins. Brett charged after him, preventing a score.
The clock was running out. The crowd was screaming. Brett and his teammate toyed back and forth with the puck. All they had to do was keep it away from the Bruins. The final buzzer sounded and the Seattle fans in the arena cheered. The Kraken were going to game seven. And I was going to Seattle.
Chapter 15
The next morning,I worked my last patrol shift. The snow at the bottom of the mountain had thinned to a dirty brown slush. The skiing on the top, however, was still worthy of a few final runs.
Most of the skiers were local high school kids getting out on the weekend. We were blessed to be able to have fun into May. This was the last weekend, and then the mountain would close to get ready for summer.
I was in the patrol room, getting ready, when Margo asked me if I’d made plans to go to the final game.
“I bought my game seven ticket about a week ago.” I told her.
“Does Brett know?” She asked as she buckled her boots.
I put my heavy wool socks on. “No, I was going to call him when I got to Seattle. My plane leaves first thing tomorrow.”
She laughed. “The game is tomorrow.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to miss my last shift.” I stood to get my boots from my locker.
“Girl, were you always this responsible?” She shook her head.
“Yeah, kind of.”
From outside the locker room, a deep voice asked, “Is she here?”
I heard Thomas’s tentative response. “I think so.”
I peeked around my locker door and witnessed Brett storming into the patrol office.
“Where’s Elizabeth?” His eyes scanned the room.
I stared, wide-eyed, shocked by his sudden, and commanding, presence. One of the patrollers pointed wordlessly to me.
He maneuvered through the skiers and stood in front of me. He pointed his finger. “Now listen up. I have a real chance at the Cup this time. And if you think we have a chance at being together, you need to be there. Because if you think you might love me and you aren’t there, and we win, you’ll ruin it for me.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but only a squeak came out. I couldn’t believe he was here. Having just seen him on television last night, his presence felt surreal.
He continued, “And why haven’t you come to any of my games?”
I blinked.
He asked, “What’s wrong with you. Are you ok?”
All I could say was, “Why are you here?”
“Christ, woman! Enough of this. I want to be with you. That’s why I’m here. I’m tired of you putting me off. You’ll come to the game.”
Oddly, the he-man attitude, which I would have normally scoffed at, was kind of attractive.
“You came all the way here to tell me that?”