THE REST of the week goes by quickly. I had practice with the Eagles Thursday morning, coached the Wombats Thursday evening, another Eagles practice this morning, and in a few hours… the Eagles game with Andie and Noah.
As I prepare for the game, I realize it feels strangely similar to getting ready for a date. I know it’s not a date, but there’s no denying the attraction I feel for Andie. Therefore, the desire to impress her—or at least, not disgust her.
Which is why I’m trying out the whole bubble bath thing. I even added Captain Bubbles bubble bath to my weekly grocery order. I got the wild berry scent, thinking Andie might notice if I smelled like bubble gum.
A man has to have some secrets.
My giant, free-standing tub is filled to the max with hot water and a good dose of bubble bath. And Andie wasn’t wrong, this stuff really does make some serious bubbles.
Now, per my homework from Dr. Curtis, I need to decide on an audiobook. I already set up a subscription to a company where I could check out audiobooks. I didn’t even know that was a thing until today. Noah said Andie listens to romance, but I’m not so sure that’s for me. I type the word hockey into the search bar. Surely, listening to a book about hockey wouldn’t break Dr. Curtis’s rules? There’s a biography about Wayne Gretzy that pops up, but I’m pretty sure I already know everything about him.
I keep scrolling and come across a book titled “Mighty Pucks.” I read the first sentence of the description and discover it is a romance, but it’s about a professional hockey player… so how bad could it be?
I tap the play button on my phone and it starts reading to me through my bathroom speakers, which are connected to my phone’s audio. I adjust the volume and set my phone on the bathroom counter.
I’m ready to relax. Looking at the prissy bathtub filled with pink bubbles, I second guess this entire thing.
“What the hell,” I grumble, removing the towel draped around my waist and letting it fall to the floor. I step one leg inside the tub, then the other. Okay, not so bad. I allow myself to sink into a sitting position.
I am one with the tub. I am relaxed. This is my new hobby.
The audio book gets past the beginning credits and starts reading to me from the man’s point of view. He’s on the team’s private jet, flirting with the coach’s daughter.
I snort a laugh. “A coach’s daughter would never travel with the team.”
I keep listening, and they keep flirting. The coach’s daughter invites the player to meet her in the plane’s bathroom in five minutes.
“What the… what kind of book is this?”
It continues and he’s trying to figure out how to slip into the bathroom with miss-hot-pants without his teammates, or coach, noticing. This would literally never happen. I don’t know whether to laugh, or to jump out of the tub and stop the audiobook from continuing.
But I decide to stick it out and give this thing a chance. Hopefully, it’ll turn around soon.
It doesn’t. He magically sneaks past all the guys on the small plane and they shut themselves inside the tiny airplane bathroom.
“That’s unsanitary,” I whisper to myself.
I try to stay relaxed and close my eyes, thinking someone will come knock on the door and interrupt them before this book gets a little too wild for me. But no… the two of them start making out and removing clothing. Things are progressing very quickly—there’s no way a large hockey player could accomplish all this in an airplane lavatory—I fly out of the tub to stop the book.
Hot water and bubbles splatter all over the floor as I run for the phone, yelling, “No, no, no!”
I can’t move fast enough, not wanting to slip and land on my butt, and things start happening in this book that I’m wholly unprepared for.
Finally, I reach my phone and stop the book just as the hockey player tells the coach’s daughter she’s a good girl.
“If she’s such a good girl, why’s she doing that two feet away from her dad? And in a lavatory? Gross.”
I slip and slide back to the tub and get back in the hot water, this time with my phone in hand. Scrolling through the options of books, again, I find a John Wayne biography and start playing that one instead. I breathe a sigh of relief when the first chapter passes without anything steamy.
Pretty soon, I’m interested in the book, enjoying the narrator and the details about John Wayne’s life. I think of my granddad, and the time we spent watching John Wayne’s films together. He would’ve enjoyed this book. I find myself sinking deeper in the tub and smiling to myself.
My eyes open when it hits me… I’m thinking of my granddad and smiling. Normally, when thoughts of my family slink into my mind unbidden, all I feel is that tightness in my chest. That old feeling of bitterness and anger. That overwhelming loneliness that takes over my body and makes me want to break something.
But today is different.
I know my anger and resentment won’t heal in one month, or even one year. But for the first time in years, I feel something new.
Something that seems a lot like hope.
“Mitch ‘The Machine’! Good to see you in the house,” Tom Parker says, his face genuinely happy—and maybe a little surprised—as he reaches a hand out to me.
I shake his hand and he pats my shoulder. “I was thrilled when you reached out for tickets. I thought maybe you didn’t miss us at all.” He winks. “Looking good, by the way.”
Tugging at my tie nervously, I grunt my thanks. It’s been a month since I wore one of my custom-tailored game-day suits, and it feels a little weird. Tonight, I selected the one that is the most fitted, showing off my muscled arms (Andie seems to like my arms… or maybe it’s just the tattoos). The suit is a dark forest green with a subtle gold pattern, and the golden, silk tie matches. I admit, “I didn’t want to draw attention by coming to the games.”
Tom shrugs. “You’ll have to be back in the limelight sooner or later. So tell me, how are the Washington Wombats? I bet they’ll miss having you around when you come back to us in a week.”
“I doubt that,” I say dryly. “But… it hasn’t been as bad as I expected.”
Andie and Noah enter the box just then, and Noah’s face lights up when he sees me. It’s enough to completely shatter what’s left of that lockbox around my heart. I fight the urge to run to them when Andie smiles at me, tugging at my tie again instead.
Tom turns to see what I’m looking at and I don’t miss the curious glint in his eyes.
Noah strides over to where we’re standing, his eyes are huge… like two brown pucks resting below his eyebrows. “Hey, Coach… I can’t believe you hooked us up with these tickets.” He’s wearing the same worn-out jersey he had on when me and the guys were helping with Andie’s gym.
I reach out and mess up his shaggy, dark hair. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tom shift on his feet, watching us with interest.
Andie ambles over to join us, looking as delicious as ever. Her bubble gum scent fills the space between us, making my mouth water. She does a quick intake of my person from top to bottom. She seems pleased with what she sees, just like I hoped.
“I feel underdressed.” Andie rubs her hands over her legging-clad thighs like her palms are sweaty. Her black leggings show off to those powerful legs of hers. She paired the leggings with bright white sneakers, and a denim jacket over a white tee. She’s an absolute vision.
“You look fine,” I say, not feeling comfortable complimenting her in front of Noah. Or Tom. Oh, right… Tom is still beside me. “Andie, Noah, this is the team’s general manager, Tom Parker.”
Tom steps forward and shakes both of their hands. “Great meeting you both.” He looks down at Noah. “So Noah, I’m assuming you’re one of Mitch’s youth hockey kids?”
“Yeah,” he says dryly. “He was a real pain at first, but he’s getting better.”
I roll my eyes but Tom bursts into laughter. “I like this kid,” he says.
I gesture to the two bar stools in front of us, there’s a present for Noah on one and a present for Andie on the other. It’s easy to distinguish one from the other because Andie’s is in a pink, sparkly gift bag and Noah’s is in an Eagle’s gift bag.
“You knew it was my birthday?” Noah asks, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Of course. Go open your present,” I tell him, crossing my arms and leaning against the bar to watch.
He doesn’t waste any time, leaping toward the D.C. Eagle’s bag that I found at the arena’s gift shop. He tosses the tissue paper to the floor, and Andie laughs. Noah gasps when he pulls out a jersey. It’s new and pristine, making the one he’s wearing look even older. He flips it over to look at the back and grins when he sees my last name on it. He gasps again, even louder, when he notices it’s signed by the entire team.
“This is sick,” he whisper-yells, like he’s trying so hard to play it cool.
I stifle a laugh and Tom snickers behind me. “You like it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Like it?” His face changes and he looks down at the jersey, then at the bar stool that has a direct view of the ice below. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
His eyes get that shiny glint to them as if he’s holding back tears and Andie places a hand on his shoulder. He shrugs out of her grasp and clears his throat, sticking his hand back inside the bag. He pulls out an Eagles tumbler, and a baseball cap with Remy’s number on it.
“Thanks, Mitch.” He smiles up at me before focusing on his sister. “Open yours, Andie!”
Andie grins, showing off that little dimple. Then she glances at me, her smile faltering. She looks unsure and a little annoyed. Her look says, why did you get me a present, and is it something awful?
Slowly, she picks up the pink bag, her eyebrows raise when she discovers how heavy it is. She glares at me, cautiously removing the tissue paper like a live snake is going to pop out of the bag and bite her. When she pulls her hand back out, she laughs and holds up her very own jersey. This one also has Anderson on the back, because I’d die before I saw this woman wear anyone’s jersey but mine.
It is signed by the entire team like Noah’s, but that’s where I draw the line.
She smiles at me, looking relieved, then reaches in for the other item in the bag, along with a note. “You have got to be kidding me.” Her head falls back and she releases a booming laugh. When her head pops back up, she holds the yellow book in front of her for all of us to see. “Hockey For Dummies?”
Tom looks between the three of us again. “I’m assuming there’s a story here?”
Andie grabs the thick book in both hands and whacks my shoulder with it. Chuckling under my breath, I instinctively bring my hands up to protect myself, grabbing the book until my hands are covering hers. The skin-to-skin contact jolts something in both of us and our eyes snap to meet the other’s gaze.
I’ve heard people talk about electricity between themselves and another person, an electric current. But until now, I’d never experienced it. I think I’ve spent my entire life in the dark, until Andie stomped her way in and lit up my entire world.
She slides her hands out from underneath mine and steps away from me in one smooth move. Andie exhales a forced laugh as she reaches for the note that was attached to the book and has now fallen to the floor.
She looks it over for a second and then reads it out loud, “Andie, your hockey knowledge needs some work. Do the world a favor and read up. There’s a whole section in here about Wayne Gretzky. Sincerely, Bruce, Colby, and Ford Remington (AKA the current team captain of the D.C. Eagles).”
Popping a hip out, she rests a hand on it. Her signature pose.
“I hate you guys,” she tells me, but there’s no mirth to her tone.
“I think what you mean to say is, thank you?” I tease.
“Mhmm. Thank you, Big Man.”
Tom chimes in from behind me, “Noah, why don’t you come over here and sit by me? I have the inside scoop on the team, after all.”
“Cool,” Noah says before rushing over and sitting on the tall stool beside Tom. The two of them start chatting animatedly as Tom points out different features inside the arena to him.
When I look at Andie, I see her eyeing the two stools left and I gesture for her to take a seat next to her brother. The only available seat now is the stool at the end… right beside her. I conveniently scoot my chair slightly closer to her before sitting down. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything.
I place her Hockey for Dummies book in front of her on the table top overlooking the arena and hear my phone ping. Wondering if it’s the guys asking how she liked her present, I take out my phone and look at the screen.
TOM PARKER
I see coaching is going very well, indeed. You sure this is a good idea?
MITCH
As of Wednesday, I’m not the coach anymore.
TOM PARKER
Max isn’t going to be thrilled.
