7. Benny

SEVEN

BENNY

It's almost two in the morning by the time I land in Toronto, and both Bens are there to greet me when I finally have my suitcase with me and step out into the chilly night.

Summer is more of a state of mind in Canada, nothing like the living sauna of Vegas, and since I love nothing more than wearing a soft hoodie and sweatpants, you'll never hear me complain about it.

My grandfather, standing two inches shorter than me and Dad at his advanced age, gives me a hug strong enough to remind me he's still in his prime.

"Benny," he says next to my ear. "I'm so proud of you." His voice is thick with emotion, and I'm seriously confused about what the hell he's talking about until I remember—and I can't believe I forgot, but it's been a few chaotic days.

I won the Stanley Cup.

And I have the assist forever on my record for the game-winning goal.

Big Ben's reminder is all I need for a wide smile to appear on my face .

"Thank you, Big Ben," I tell him as he leans back, grips my shoulders, and looks at me with shiny eyes and a smile just as big as mine.

A hearty slap on my back has me turning to see "only" Ben with barely concealed excitement.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't be there, son."

"It's okay, Dad." I go in for the hug that feels like home. Dad's still as tall as me, at six feet two, and the embrace is as comfortable as anything can be. "How come you're picking me up?" I ask as I take a step back. "Lucky told me she was coming."

Dad shrugs as he takes my suitcase and wheels it to the trunk of his SUV.

"Since it's a normal summer Wednesday she needs to get to work early. Besides, I told her we needed some Ben time," Grandpa says. He claps me on the shoulder before turning around and climbing into the passenger seat.

I smile at my Dad when I see him roll his eyes at Big Ben's words. He's been referring to the three of us hanging out as "Ben time" for as long as I can remember. Since I have two older sisters and a mom who's the bossiest boss pants in the world, it always did wonders for me to spend uninterrupted time with Dad and Big Ben—and still does if I'm being honest.

I smile as I remember he named his time with my sisters "Warrior council," and climb inside Dad's car.

"How's everything going?" I ask the general enough question as soon as Dad turns the car on, knowing I'll get a Big Ben monologue out of it.

Grandpa earned his nickname as a child because he's always been... let's say exuberant. Loud is really the best way to describe him. Weirdly enough, his name isn't Benjamin like Dad's and mine is, but everyone around town still calls him Big Ben, and if the town gossips are to be believed, he's still as loud, even pushing ninety.

Grandpa's snoring loudly when Dad parks the car in front of our home. I get an amused look when he turns to look at me. "Should we leave him here so we don't hear his snores all night?" I snort and shake my head.

"Don't be mean," I say in a teasing voice. "We're home, Grandpa." I speak soothingly as I open his door. Dad gets out too, and takes my bags out of the trunk and into the house while I help a slightly disoriented Grandpa.

"Why didn't you take me home?" he grumbles.

"'Cause it's four in the morning and we all just want to sleep. You know your room is always ready here." I give him a reproachful look and he nods, conceding the point.

I leave the en-suite bathroom's light on so he can see his way around, then go up the stairs to my room. Dad dumped my bags on the bed, probably so as not to make any noise and wake one of the beasts—yes, that's what I call my sisters, and as the youngest child, that's my God-given right.

I put everything away—silently—and get ready for bed, now finally feeling the mental and physical exhaustion of the last week.

The last two months, really. I haven't checked, because it's a bit depressing, but I know I lost a lot of weight during the playoffs. That's what happens when you play as hard as you can every other day. No matter how much you carb-load, and no matter how much you nap, you're still constantly hungry and tired .

Not that I'm complaining, not at all, since I get to come home for a little over two weeks and eat my sister's cooking.

I smile at the thought, as I slide under the light duvet Dad puts out for us during the summer. As a habit, I check my phone right before going to sleep and instantly regret it.

Poor Bates, I think sarcastically as I see the page full of one-line texts. He's freaking out a little—welcome to the club—and wants me to call him ASAP.

Yeah, sure .

I'm definitely not doing that. I still have no fucking clue what the hell I'm gonna tell him. I debate just throwing my phone away, but call me a masochist because I scroll down all the notifications, just to check...

Nothing.

God, I let out a huge sigh and groan. That is such a bummer , I can't help but think.

I don't think leaving my number for Chris was a particularly good idea. The whole thing, from sleeping with him to telling him about Bates, was just a result of me turning off my brain, basically. But yeah, I can't help but want to talk to him about... things.

God , I really have to be a special brand of na?ve idiot to think a guy who I had a one-night stand with would ever want to talk me through the emotional tangle going on inside me.

But I really want to. Talk to him. Just talk...

Yeah, sure. I roll my eyes at myself.

I mean, I really appreciated that he never once asked me about being a hockey player, but really , if I just wanted to talk I would talk to?—

The ball of dread that appears in the pit of my stomach has me sucking in a sharp breath. I even throw my phone to the other side of my bed from how much it shakes me.

I don't want to answer Bates's text. I don't want to talk to him. And I do want to hear from Chris.

I think about what that means.

Am I really that flighty, that I just fell out of love with my best friend after a hot as fuck night with a practical stranger?

I mean, Chris's dick could very well be described as magic, but I don't think it has the power to erase true love.

So, it wasn't true love?

My heartbeat quickens because that means... It means I'm free. It means I don't have to feel even a little bit bad about hooking up with Chris. It means I can be pissed at Bates for not telling me about starting a serious relationship, but not too much.

It means I could try and persuade Chris to go out with me.

Okay, I need to slow the fuck down. The guy is clearly not looking for love. Unlike me.

But it can't hurt to try, right?

If he says no, if he never texts, then I can decide whether I'm willing to suffer the humiliation of going to Lure looking for him again. He could turn me down, he could agree to another hook-up, he could be dancing with another man.

The thought isn't pleasant—understatement—but if that happens then it would be a clear enough sign that Chris also isn't for me.

I keep thinking about it for so long that it takes me at least two more hours to fall asleep, which means I see the sunrise. I hear the house come to life, my sisters using their bathrooms then going down the stairs, and I hear the soft murmurs of everyone gathering around the kitchen to have breakfast—in a house that's mostly wood, every sound can be heard.

I somehow feel like I've been sleeping for two seconds and two days at the same time when I wake up at three in the afternoon on Wednesday. I see my phone, face down on the other side of my bed, and decide to leave it there. I'm not in the right mindset to answer Chris's texts if he miraculously texted, or to answer Bates's.

I need coffee and the biggest lunch ever, and there's no better place to find those than the resort's kitchen.

As expected, I find my older sister scowling at whatever it is she's cooking in the saucepan in front of her. "Rare," she barks, as she spins around and plates the big-ass steak on the serving counter.

Her eyes snap up sharply once she's done and a smile that's as rare to see on her as it is similar to mine blooms on her face.

"Lucky," I say, a shit eating grin clear in my voice. "You're chipper as ever."

"Ugh," she groans. "An asshole sent his steak back because it wasn't rare enough. I mean, does he want it to moo up at him from the plate, or what?"

I snort and stay in place—I know better than to go hug her and "compromise" her kitchen as she would say.

"Hey guys," I tell my sister's meticulously chosen staff.

I get a chorus of "Hi, Benny" for my trouble, and a few waves.

"I don't mind eating the steak they brought back, I could actually eat a cow right about now. So if it's not a problem, please feed me everything and anything you can."

Lucky's face goes back to her usual blank expression as she nods at me and spins around. "You got it. Go sit and I'll send a few things your way in a few."

Nora, a girl I went to school with and who has been working at the restaurant since before I went off to the AHL, passes me a plate with a healthy scoop of mashed potatoes and a spoon. "To tide you over." She winks at me.

I smile gratefully, and take my first bite even before I'm out of the kitchen. I ignore the curious gazes of the restaurant's guests as I find an empty table and sit. I'm done with my first course by the time a waitress I haven't met before comes over and asks me what I want to eat. Someone must've clued her in, or she must know who I am, because she assures me she'll bring me my food in a few minutes.

Gemma, my middle sister and the complete opposite of Lucky, comes over and gives me a hug right as my Coke arrives. She's wearing a bright yellow dress, and her long brown hair has some highlights that it didn't the last time I saw her back in March when they came to Vegas to see me play a few games. The resort only closes at the end of ski season, the rest of the year there's steady enough business, so it's the only time they can take a few days to come visit me.

"You finally decided to grace us with your presence I see," she teases, like any good older sister does. I kiss her cheek and ignore her remark. Instead, I ask about the resort and how it's doing. Gemma helps Mom with the managing of the whole thing, so of course she knows everything that's going on .

Big Ben's grandfather opened the resort over a hundred years ago—a small hotel back then—and pretty much all Olsens have worked here ever since. I'm one of the few outliers, but I did work here helping Dad out with the landscaping until I got too busy with hockey.

Grandpa turned it into the resort it is today, though, so of course there are more than a handful of situations my sister tells me about that include him—like whenever he decides he's not retired anymore and comes in to bug Mom about his latest idea.

Thankfully, he's pretty smart and his ideas aren't too bad, and also, Mom adores Grandpa. Dad's the maintenance and landscaping guy here, a handyman to his core, and when he informed Big Ben he wouldn't be a good fit to run the resort and that his wife should do it, Grandpa didn't know how to feel. Safe to say that Mom's been Grandpa's true favorite ever since.

Olsen Kawartha Resort is Grandpa's pride and joy and he made sure to raise his children to feel the same way. It's also the main attraction of the small town of Elliotsville where we were all born, and the place we all want to see bloom.

The town has grown a lot since the late sixties when Dad was born. And since I started the summer hockey camp three years ago, it's grown a little bit more. It's one of the things I'm most proud of, and I know it's something I'll keep doing for the rest of my life. When I'm eighty-five like Big Ben, you can bet I'm gonna be suiting up to show the youngins how it's done.

Lucky joins us after I'm done with the third course, and when they share a look , I know I'm not going to get away with not telling them what's been going through my head the last few days.

"Spill," my oldest sister demands, as she leans back and takes a sip of her sparkling water.

I let out a big breath and tell them that Bates has a girlfriend and how I found out and how...

"Wait," Gemma demands, sounding exactly like she did when we were kids and she had to explain to me why something I did was stupid.

"Oh no," I groan and throw my head back while sliding as low as possible on the chair.

"You slept "—she whisper-shouts the word—"with a complete stranger, and then told that stranger about your sad little unrequited love, and then slept with him again ?" There's not a lot of whispering that time.

I only cover my face with my hands while trying to pretend I'm invisible.

"Benny." Lucky sighs her disappointed sigh and only Mom could make me feel more like a piece of shit stuck to an old useless shoe.

"I don't even know which one of you I think is worse." That gets my attention.

"What do you mean?" I ask Gemma.

"Well, the total stranger. He slept with you after knowing how all over the place your head is."

"Oh," I say softly and look down. "He did say a few things about... Well, I won't bore you with the details, but I have to say he didn't take advantage of me in any way." I shake my head and look up at them. I make sure they both see the truth in my eyes. "I mean, yeah, I was all over the place, but I knew I wanted him. Wanted... that with him. I figured I'd work out some of my frustration with him and never see him again after."

"Okaaaay." Gemma draws out the word. "Then why did you leave him your phone number? Why did you spend ninety-five percent of this time talking about him instead of the guy you've been telling us you're in love with for a year?"

It's been longer than that, but I knew I had to tell them last summer since Bates, Eagle, and Santa came to help me out at the camp. My sisters are smart, and they know me better than anyone. I knew they'd make comments about it if I didn't tell them first, and that's the only reason why I did.

"I kind of knew you weren't really in love with Bates, actually." Lucky speaks before I can come up with any answers to Gemma's totally unreasonable questions.

"Yeah," Gemma says, and then they're talking like I'm not even there.

"I think he should see where things go with this dude. Keep an open mind, you know?"

"I guess." Gemma sighs and slumps slightly in her seat. "But if he's a total playboy you better not fall in love with him, got it?" She points a finger at my face and does an even scarier impersonation of Lucky.

Wanting to move this conversation along, since we can't really do anything until Chris texts me or until enough time has passed that I have to accept he won't ever text me, I ask about the preparations for the camp.

"So is everything ready for Sunday night?" I ask, since that's when all the kids are getting here.

"Yup," Gemma says and nods. "Rooms, roommate assignments, food, gear, and the rink. "

"Thank God," I say in a sigh. "I have to go see Mom and Aunt Ro and thank them for all they've done."

"You have twenty kids this year," Gemma says matter-of-factly but with a sentimental smile that tells me she's proud of me.

I shrug. "We have the space, and I couldn't narrow down my choices any more."

I don't coordinate the camp—thank fucking Christ, since I'd bring it to the ground if I did— but my mom and Aunt Ro are in charge of it. They do amazing and I'll be forever thankful to them for everything they do during the year. Putting together lists of kids who fit the profile so I can choose which of them to bring in, making flight arrangements, getting together feeding restrictions, fucking shoe sizes, and roommate accommodations. That's all done by them.

The camp is only for kids from thirteen to sixteen years old, and all kids who can't afford to go to other camps. I pay for everything, though my family insists on donating the rooms at the resort. I do pay for the food and the equipment we order for them, as well as the rent of the rink at Elliotsville, which by some force—fate, the universe, whatever you want to call it—just so happens to be a mile away from the resort.

I have a few volunteers in the form of my high school buddies who played with me until I was fifteen. They're always up for some ice time, and I show my gratitude to them by paying for their beers at the local bar during the summer. Thankfully, none of them are big drinkers.

Moore, Patel, Reid, and Thomas are all living down in Toronto now, most of them just finished college and are getting office jobs or have been working for a while already. Though I suspect Patel, who's still very much in love with Gwen, his high school sweetheart, will move back home and finally ask the girl to marry him.

Apart from them, I've also gotten a couple of buddies from the Pirates to come over and help out. The kids loved having Santa, Eagle, and Bates here last year, and I know there will be tears—good tears—when they see who's coming this year. It's mainly thanks to Eagle—he bragged about the camp to his dad, who talked to me about it at Jules's wedding. It all kind of snowballed from there.

"I still can't believe you got Paul Wayne and Hulk Jankowski to come help out this year," Gemma whispers, leaning into the table.

Eagle's father, the legendary defenseman, Hulk, came up to me with his best friend and they just started asking questions about it and asked if they could be a part of it this year. I couldn't believe it, but Eagle's smile told me his father's question was genuine and that I should say yes. So of fucking course I said yes.

"Forget about them," Lucky says, mirroring her. "Charlotte fucking Wayne, three-time Olympic gold medalist and seven-time world champion. She's even more of a legend than her dad."

I chuckle and nod. "That's a fact." She was the captain of the Canadian hockey team for all those championships and only retired last year. Now she's the assistant coach for the Toronto NHL team. "I can't believe she said yes. These boys better know they're getting the equivalent of the rarest diamond in the world this week."

"I think they will." Gemma leans back in her chair .

"You guys didn't tell Dad or Big Ben, did you?"

Lucky scoffs and Gemma shakes her head with her eyes wide open. "Of course we didn't." Gemma leans back in and this time whispers for real. "Only Mom knows, since I had to explain why we were keeping the two big suites reserved for the whole week."

I let out a measured breath that turns into a laugh. "I still can't believe Paul and Hulk told me they wanted to be roommates, so they feel like they're in camp too."

"They're the definition of friendship goals for sure."

Lucky's words have me rubbing my chest at the sudden tightness. Will Bates and I ever get back to being friendship goals? I hope we can. I hope I can get past this and that we can get through it then pretend it never happened.

I shake my head— really can't think about this right now —and get back to the conversation.

"I don't know what I'm going to do next year to surpass this year's guests." I sound scared even though I'm speaking through a smile.

"Well you could make sure Jules comes over with Sterling." Lucky snorts and Gemma shakes her head.

"Jules will of course be a big hit when he has time to come here, but Wayne and Hulk? I don't know bro, that's a very hard act to follow."

Gemma says that they're ready for Sunday when the kids will all get here. Paul, Charlotte, and Hulk are getting in a couple of hours earlier and will only be introduced to the kids Monday morning. That breakfast is going to be something else.

"You remember Vance?" Lucky asks me .

I nod. I do remember the guy who went to school with my sister.

"He works for a marketing agency now, in Toronto, and he agreed to come here to film that breakfast. Aunt Ro thought it'd be a great idea to put it on the website for promotion and all that stuff she does."

"Wow, that really is a great idea. If we do a post about it too, maybe it could go viral." Just thinking about it makes me feel lighter. All I want is to make it easier for boys—and I'd like to include a camp for girls eventually—to have access to hockey. It's a very expensive sport to play, and if I hadn't had the full support of my family, I never would've been able to go to camps, or eventually move away at sixteen to go to a hockey boarding school. I never would've been drafted to the AHL at seventeen or brought up to the NHL only months later.

The way my family has rallied around this camp for me always makes me realize how much of a lucky son of a bitch I am.

Especially because I don't have to do more than what I'm good at. I show up every day for the kids and teach them everything I know about hockey, and help them in any way I can for one week. I'm well aware it's not much, but it's something.

"I think you should tell Big Ben before they get here," Lucky says worriedly, and Gemma winces at me and nods her agreement

I sigh, "Yeah, you're right, the man doesn't deserve a surprise like that."

"I think he's gonna shit his pants," Lucky says mercilessly and with an evil smile .

"I really don't know why you're his favorite," I tell her.

She scoffs. "Please, we all know Tim is his favorite," she deadpans, talking about our little cousin.

Our aunt got a surprise of her own twelve years ago when she got pregnant after—gag—a one-night stand. That's one thing a ten year old should never have to learn about his aunt, but it's life, and our parents didn't shy away from laying it all out for us.

She ended up raising little Tim on her own, since the guy she had the one night with turned out to be a bit of a douchebag, but it's for the best.

She's the event coordinator at the resort during the summer, manages the skiing operations during the season, and lends me her superb organizational and problem-solving abilities for the camp.

My sisters have to go back to work, so I head over to Mom's just to say hi and give her a hug and a kiss. I feel everything inside me settle as she wraps her arms around me.

"My champion," she croons against my chest. At five-seven, I tower over her but still feel like a small child when I rest my temple against the crown of her head. Regina Olsen is the best mom in the world and I will fight anyone who says differently.

She doesn't have a lot of time, there's always lots of work to be done, so I head out for a walk and realize this is exactly what I need when my feet take me to the rink without me deciding to do so.

"Hey Vic," I greet the only person in the rink. He went to school with Lucky and has been working here forever.

I get one of his sunny smiles in return and a big hug. "I figured I wouldn't see you 'til Sunday. "

Vic has been my contact with the rink ever since I came by to ask about using it for my camp. He's a good dude, and as far as I can tell, he loves Elliottsville and doesn't want to ever move away.

"I'm wondering if I can skate for a while? I can clean up after, if you need me to."

"Nah, man. It's okay. Frank's coming by at six to give it a pass with the Zamboni, so just go ahead."

"Thanks, I uh—" Ridiculous, that for the first time in my life I arrived here without skates. "Can I get some skates?" I ask and wince at Vic's humor-filled eyes. "I didn't actually plan on skating."

He laughs and claps my back. "No worries."

He gets me a pair of skates in my size and I slide onto the ice the way I always do, like coming home. I skate just for fun, and realize I needed this. More than a week without going on the ice is too much as far as I'm concerned. The smell of the ice, the bite of the cold air against my cheeks and nose, these are the things that remind me I'm alive.

I have the rest of today and until Sunday midday to rest and get my shit together. Then there will be seven days of craziness, and when the kids go back home next Monday, I'll have only five more days to relax.

Then it'll be back to reality. Back to acting like an adult and not avoiding everything.

I stop dead at the thought and feel my jaw clench. I really don't want to deal with anything. All I want is to skate and to... yeah , I think as I see the other side of the rink.

Without any more warming up, I skate just as fast to the other side, then back. I do laps as fast as I can. For a long while I focus only on skating but the memory of doing this exact same thing with Bates last year intrudes in my mind. I remember how fun it was just to skate, play tag, and try to out-skate each other.

Man, why did he not tell me about Caroline?

The only way to find out is to ask . "Yeah, I fucking know," I mumble to myself as I complete another turn around the rink. "And now I'm talking to myself." Can I get any more pathetic?

Not really interested in the depressing reality, I just skate faster. There's still too much noise in my head to have a conversation with Bates in a calm and rational way.

"You okay, Benny?" The sudden noise of my grandfather's loud voice has me stumbling as I try to stop. I realize just how fast I was going when I see the cloud of my heavy breaths in front of me.

Another person who I can talk anything through with. And since I need to tell him about the camp's guests, I guess this is as good a time as any. Grandpa was the first person I came out to when I was fourteen. Weird, I know, and also very privileged to have known that I would have his support. I know it's not everyone's experience, and that saddens me as much as it makes me determined to enjoy it for myself. Maybe spread that unconditional love around too.

"How about a walk home? You having dinner with us?"

"You think I'm stupid, Benny?" he asks with eyes full of mirth. "Why would I ever say no to our Lucky's cooking? Come on, you can tell me what has you so restless on the way."

I step out, give Vic the borrowed skates back, and meet Big Ben at the entrance.

I let out a huge sigh as we start the walk back. Grandpa throws an arm around my shoulders and cajoles me. "Just lay it on me, son."

"How did you know you were in love with Grandma?" I ask before I can decide whether it's a good idea to bring Eleanor Olsen up.

As expected, a sadness settles in his expression, like it always does. Still, he smiles softly and even lets out a soft chuckle before I can apologize or take the question back.

"You know I met your grandma when we were just kids," he starts, as fireflies light up every few seconds around us. "I always liked her, always thought she was pretty. God, was she pretty. But it wasn't until one day, when she told me how much she liked how loud I was, that I realized."

"What?" I ask in a sputter.

"I know." And his laugh then doesn't have nearly as much sadness as before. "I'm a lucky man, Benny. I found the one woman who was crazy enough to want to spend every day next to my loud ass."

"She was one of a kind," I say softly.

"She was, and I knew I loved her when I saw that she accepted and even celebrated the things that make people unique. Even the annoying things. She was just good , kind, and happy. Not always, not every single minute, but she always made an effort to be kind. Fact is, Benny, I didn't have to try to be in love with her, I didn't ever have to remind myself of it, I didn't have to decide. I just was in love with her. There wasn't even a thought involved in the matter."

I don't have anything to add to that awesome explanation. But it does cement something inside me.

There are plenty of things about Bates that I think are awesome. His dark and dry sense of humor, his work ethics, how much he sucks at Mario Party for some reason, but.. .

Well I did kind of decide he was it, didn't I?

Did I convince myself? Did I push myself to love him as more than a friend?

"I have to tell you something important, so why don't you lean on the tree, get a good grip." Big Ben looks at me like I'm insane, but he does as I ask without protest. That's the kind of man he is. He's always up for a good time, for teasing someone, and he's always up for listening.

I get what I expected when I tell him Paul Wayne and Hulk are coming to the camp. He pales for a second, but then his face flushes with happiness.

"Oh, my God, Benny."

"I know," I say with a laugh. I let him bask in the happiness for a few minutes and he promises not to tell Dad, and then we continue on our way.

I'm still not sure about anything to do with Bates when we arrive home. Grandpa goes straight to the kitchen and I decide to get a shower before spending the afternoon with my family.

I see my phone, still face down on the other side of my bed, and I check it.

There are new texts from Bates, and also one from an unknown number that has my heart beating like crazy.

I take a steadying breath and write back to Bates first.

Benny

I need some time to think some things through. I'll tell you all about it when I get back to Vegas in two weeks. Relax, dude. I'm okay .

Then finally, I check the other message.

Unknown Number

Hey BB.

It's Chris.

That's all, and I have to take another deep breath before finally writing back what I've wanted to say since he left my apartment.