Chapter 5

Five

LOU

G ame day arrives and I'm up early listening to the game day playlist on my phone and eating my game day lemon ricotta pancakes I made from scratch. The music is blasting when I see a text on my phone from Gavin.

Gavin: Think you could have a house guest for a couple of weeks?

Me: ?

Gavin: I need Cinnamon's kennel for a pregnant dog that needs monitoring. It'll just be for a couple of weeks, maybe longer.

Me: I have away games coming up. What are the chances it will go longer?

Gavin: We'll make something work when you're away.

I've fostered for him before, and it didn't go well, but it's Cinnamon, and I really hate leaving her in that kennel. After quickly checking my game schedule I send him when I can pick her up, and when I'll be leaving town for my away game and need to bring her back. Then I use my phone to order a dog bed and some toys for Cinnamon to enjoy. There's a big red ball, and rope toys, and toys to hide treats in. I see the brand of treats Gavin keeps in the barn and add those to the checkout as well.

A pop-up asks if I want to order again with a picture of a lemon next to it. I add those to my cart too so Maria will have plenty of lemons for my lucky lemon bars. Making sure she's stocked up on those is the best decision I've ever made for my career.

I send a text to Nate to remember to bring me a lemon bar.

Later at the arena I carefully pick out a lemon from the same bag as the one used at practice the other day. It's got a good color, and is a little bit softer than the others. I'm carefully cutting it up into evenly sliced pieces. It's the same routine I follow each game before the rest of the team arrives. I don't share the lemons, ever. I'll use the rest of the bag, and then the process will start again with me handing a lemon to Coach before practice for a new lemon line. Unless we lose, then I'll need a different bag of lemons. But I won't even think about losing as I keep cutting the lemon.

The knife slips and cuts my hand holding the lemon in place. I hiss as the lemon juice stings and drop the knife on the cutting board so I can inspect the cut. It's bleeding, and I rush to the sink to wash it away so I can take a better look at it. Coach will be pissed if I need to get stitches. After running it under cold water I see that the cut runs along the tip of my finger.

The cut is shallow thankfully and using a paper towel I dry my hand and after a little bit of applying pressure, the bleeding stops. It'll need to be bandaged for the game, so I go in search of the kit the trainers use with gauze and tape. I find it and to my luck there are regular band aids too. I apply one and after cleaning up the first aid items I return to the scene of the accident. The lemon slices are no good to me now, and I don't trust the rest of the bag after this. Picking up the bag and the cutting board, they all go in the trash. I'll get a new one for the next game.

The lemons were just an extra precaution anyway. I don't need them thanks to discovering the power of Maria's lemon bars. All I need is for Nate to get here with it.

Needing to get away from the cursed lemons I retreat to the quiet locker room where the only sound is from the ventilation system overhead. I sit down on the bench and try to shake off the pregame nerves that are starting to amp up. Putting on my earphones I blast my playlist and focus on getting in the zone as I go through my warm-ups.

I don't need to add another injury to my day.

Time passes with my teammates arriving one by one. Dan puts something in Nate's locker. The long-standing prank war between the two of them is part of their tradition. He gives me a nod before he starts suiting up. Shane sits next to me, using the locker that belonged to Matt. He tapes up a picture of his parents, followed by a picture of a pretty brunette.

"That your girlfriend?" I ask him.

He smiles, but it has that hint of longing, "Yeah."

"You doing the long-distance thing?" I ask, as Shane was recruited from a collegiate league out of state.

He cocks an eyebrow, "What's it to you?"

I lift a shoulder and drop it. "Just being friendly."

Nate arrives and I stand up, eager to get my hands on the lemon bar. He sets his bag down in front of his locker, but I don't see a bakery box.

"Where is it?" I ask him.

Nate looks at me apologetically. "She ran out."

"Out?" I'm stunned. I had enough lemons delivered to her to ensure plenty of lemon bars on game day. "What do you mean out?"

"She didn't have any and when I asked she said she was out."

"That can't be right." I return to my locker and pull out my phone.

A quick search later I have the information for her bakery up, but it's showing as closed for the day. The curse of bakery hours, they open early and close early. She really needs to be open late on hockey nights. I hit the number, hoping she'll still be there and will answer. The call rings, and rings until a recording picks up with the store hours.

I look at Nate. "Quick, what's Maria's number?"

"I don't know."

"How do you not know," I tell him, and then I'm calling Hannah.

My sister picks up on the second ring. "To what do I owe the honor of a call on game day?"

"I need Maria's number."

"Why?" she asks, her voice hesitant.

My patience is gone and I'm short with her as I say, "I don't have time Hannah, her number now."

"Promise me you aren't going to use it for something weird?"

My nerves are ramping up, and I don't have time for her antics.

"Swear it or I'm hanging up," she says.

"Fine. I swear."

"On the Stanley Cup?"

In a firm voice, I snap, "Hannah."

"Sent," she chirps. "Have a good game, I'm watching."

I end the call without saying goodbye as soon as I see Hannah's text with Maria's number.

Two things became apparent just before I hit call on Maria's number. One, it's quiet in the locker room. Two, it's not because my teammates left the room. I look up from my phone to see they've all stopped whatever they were doing to stare at me. Even Coach is in the locker room, to deliver his suit-up reminder, so we'll all be dressed for his pregame speech.

Dan is the one to finally break the silence. "Someone steal your lemon bar, Lou?"

The team cracks a couple of chuckles, but Coach and Nate are eyeing me with a level of awareness that lets me know just how much I've unraveled.

I pull myself together and put my phone away in my locker as I retort, "You wish."

Coach gets everyone's attention and tells us to suit up. Just as I think he's going to leave, he makes sure to look at me as he says to leave everything else at the door.

I turn my back on the team so they can't see me freak out any more than I already have. My chest feels tight, and I can feel my heart starting to pound. I take a long drink from my water bottle to try and cool myself down, before taking a slow deep breath. The team needs me and I can't let them down. I can't not skate. If I don't skate, I don't get paid. If I don't get paid then--

Nate steps closer to me, acting extra casual, but I can still feel the side glances, and the locker room is still quieter than normal as everyone tries to listen in. The team is worse than my gran's sewing circle when it comes to being in everyone else's business. That woman knows everything going on in my hometown and then some.

"You good to skate?" Nate asks me.

"Fine," I tell him and take another drink.

He backs off, but he's keeping a close eye on me as I start to pull on my pads. When Nate reaches for his helmet a cup of water falls out and Dan starts laughing from his spot by his locker. Nate shakes his head and promises to get him back. It's normal for the two of them and it helps to distract me a little as I pull on the rest of my gear.

Coach comes in and gives his speech and the lineup for the game. He doesn't even pause as he says my name which I appreciate as my nerves still haven't settled. We leave the locker room and I can hear the roar of the crowd in the tunnel, it grows louder as I near the ice. Dan moves to the side, he's first to lead to the ice, but last on. Giving us all a fist bump as we pass.

My skates hit the ice, and with a burst of speed I take off around the ice.

Skate, shoot, score. That's what I'm here to do tonight. Lemon bars or not.

As I loop around our team's goal I wave to the crowd. There are fans, super fans, fans that don't know they're fans, and the other team's people. I take note of a woman in the crowd holding a pink poster with a heart and my number in blue glitter next to my face. The woman with the poster likely falls into the super fans category and I make a point to wave to her. I can use all the positive energy from the fans tonight to outweigh the cursed lemons from before.

She's standing next to what I assume are her friends in the crowd. She screams and jumps up and down in excitement with her friends at my wave. It's the same reaction I've seen from so many others. She turns around to show me that my number is glitterified in a hot pink color on the back of her jersey. It's definitely not something purchased from the team's store.

I'm stunned by all the glitter, and staring at her when she blows a kiss to me over her shoulder at me.

The rookie defenseman, Brooks, skates up to where I've stopped to wave to them as well. He's got a bit of a reputation on the team for being a player. The woman drops her poster and fans her face with one hand even as she uses her other hand to wave at him.

"Careful Brooks," I tell him.

"Afraid I'm going to steal glitter girl?" he teases.

I shake my head, "I'd have to have a girl in order for you to steal her."

Pretty boy follows me back toward where our team is lining up for the national anthem.

"I was just playing back there."

"Don't worry about it." I tell him. "I don't want glitter girl anywhere near me for multiple reasons."

"You know her or something?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Rookie, glitter spreads faster than fleas and good luck trying to wash it off."

He looks thoughtful for a moment, but I can see from the way he looks back at her that he doesn't seem to mind glitter. I don't bother to tell him that in my early days, I thought women like glitter girl really wanted me, but I learned the hard way. At the end of the day, they're all the same. Chasing the high of celebrity infatuation, they just want a guy in a jersey, any one of us will do. Being the object of that attention quickly lost its appeal.

Now, there's no way I want someone like glitter girl anywhere near me unless the boss upstairs says I have to.

I see Nate wave to Penelope and Lia up in their seats behind our team bench, Lia is giving Nate heart eyes, and even without a glittery poster it's more real than glitter girl or her friends.

A familiar dark-haired beauty stands next to Lia, and the slight frown on her lips when she looks at me is so honest I could kiss her. I won't though?—

The pregame music cuts out and the announcer asks the crowd to give a warm welcome to the singer for the national anthem. That's the last moment of the game I feel hopeful. Everything goes downhill from there.

Nate gets the puck down in the face-off and hits it to me. I take off with it down the ice, skating hard and fast. I wind up to shoot, and a defenseman for the other team slams into me. I hit the ice so fast I see stars as the fans for the other team cheer. Shane offers me a hand to help me to my feet, and I see that Dan is already having to defend our net.

Shaking off the hit I get right back into the game and work to help get the puck back. Brooks gets the puck from the other team, and slaps it to Nate and once more we move back to the other team's goal. Back and forth we go, skating from one end of the ice to the other, neither team scoring.

Brooks gets hot-headed and brings his stick high, immediately getting a penalty and put in the box for two minutes. Down a man, and with the other team in possession of the puck I move into position closer to help protect Dan and the goal.

I'm off to the side of the goal, when the other team skates close trying to get a shot off. He moves his stick and I see an opening to steal the puck away from him. I snatch the puck with my stick, and hit it behind me for Dan to hit off to Nate.

Instead, the goal siren goes off.

I look in horror at Dan, who looks at me in shock. Then I look up at the replay overhead and watch as they replay me stealing the puck from the other team and slapping it into my own goal. The crowd boos, glitter girl tears the poster with my number in half, and Coach calls me to the bench.

"Get checked out." Coach tells me. Sending me to one of the medics. Alexis meets me off the ice, and out of sight of the crowd that is still yelling their displeasure.

"Worried about the hit to the ice?" I ask her.

Alexis smiles. "Doesn't hurt to look does it."

I sit where she tells me to and I answer the questions she asks. Then I follow her fingers.

Clearly the hit to the ice earlier had to have messed with my head.

None of this would have happened if I'd had a lemon bar.