9. We Know the Risks

CHAPTER 9

WE KNOW THE RISKS

FRANCINE

Stefan is back on the ice tonight, for the first time since his upper body injury, the official explanation given by the team, because they can't say ‘Florida's defender roughed him up on a late hit'. The penalty box door is propped open during warmups, and Stefan skates toward it, leaning against the opening and using his short break to take a drink of water, throwing me a wink as he does.

"Why don't you wear a helmet in warmups?" I ask, closing the distance between us and keeping my voice low. "It makes me nervous."

"I'm not messing up this hair before I have to," he points to his nearly black, perfectly styled hair. "I'll put my helmet on come game time, don't you worry Stats."

Don't worry.

Easy for him to say.

"Donuts after the game?" He asks before skating away.

"I can't tonight. I have a game."

"Then I'll come watch," he says excitedly. "If you don't mind."

"I don't mind, but you might be the only one in the stands."

"No Mom and Dad Henderson tonight?" He asks, a note of disappointment in his voice.

"Not tonight. They left for Seattle this morning to spend some time with my brother. They'll be out west for the next two weeks."

"In that case, I have to come to your game. You need someone in the stands to cheer for you."

How can I argue with that? And even if I could, he skates away before I have the chance to try.

The game gets off to a great start, and by the time Stefan and the third line hit the ice for their first shift, the Union are already up a goal. It's good to see Stefan on the ice again, back to his old form and usual third line antics.

"I hear we get to watch you play tonight," Alex Hyryck says by way of greeting when I open the door to the box late in the second period. "I'm looking forward to it."

"What are you talking about?" I ask after noting his penalty for the official record.

"Stefan invited the boys to your game tonight!" Alex grins, leaving me dumbfounded. "Me and Gabriel. Like I said, we're looking forward to it."

Alex's penalty is over before I have a chance to respond to the absolute absurdity of a group of three pro hockey players coming to watch women's beer league, at eleven o'clock on a Thursday night.

"So I hear you're bringing friends to my game," I say as I let Stefan into the box in the first minute of the third period. He got a solid crosscheck on his opponent and now he gets to hang out with me for a few minutes. "You know it'll probably just be the three of you in the stands, right?"

"All the better to cheer embarrassingly loudly for you, Stats."

"Oh. No. Please don't do that."

" I won't, but I make no promises for Gabriel. He's a goalie, you know. He's a bit of a wild card."

The Union win in a decisive victory and I text Stefan as I'm leaving the arena, letting him know I'm heading over to the rink to get ready for my own game. Puck drop is later than usual tonight since Malina is volunteering across town at the after hours clinic. There's only a handful of fans at the rink tonight, and Stefan chose to sit on the first bench, just behind the penalty box, a bit of a role reversal for the two of us. Alex and Gabriel sit next to him, each with a bag of popcorn in their hands.

"Ladies," Malina skates over to where Rachel and I are warming up on our side of the center line, and looks pointedly across the ice. "Are you aware that Stefan Morrow is here tonight? With Alex Hyryck and Gabriel Bouchard in tow?"

"I am, unfortunately, very aware." Stefan watches me with a goofy grin, saying something I can't hear to Alex who is seated beside him, all the while Gabriel watches our group of skaters intently. "At least Stefan and Alex had the good sense to look inconspicuous."

"Not Bouchard," Malina laughs, "I don't think he could be inconspicuous if he tried."

"Just ignore them," Rachel says with a laugh, "especially you Franny."

As if ignoring them were that simple.

"Looking good out there tonight, 2-8!" Stefan calls when I skate off the ice and take my first two minutes of the night. So much for ignoring him.

"Don't distract me, 1-4!" I call back to him, tossing a look over my shoulder and catching his smile. "I have to watch my time."

"You're a pro!" I can hear the smile in his voice, and I carry that with me when my skates hit the ice after my penalty and into my next shift.

After a brief intermission between the first two periods, I'm on the ice for a shift in the second, and I can feel myself slowing down. My hip aches and I hang back as my wingers take over with the puck, racing toward the goal. When they get into a scrum with our opposing team, I skate back into the fray and don't see the hit coming as I skate around the back of the goal and collide with an opponent, sending me right into the boards and onto the ice.

"Stay down!" Someone above me shouts, shielding me. "Everybody, back off! I'm calling time!"