Page 86 of The Coach

“I’m sure,” I answer slowly.

“They took a beating yesterday. Maybe Michigan is tired today,” my mom comments hopefully.

I smile at her and let my thoughts drift when the announcer gets the crowd going with excitement. He announces the players to the ice, letting them have their entrance, then I see the line of coaches entering their positions behind the bench, and I smile when Tanner gives me a smile and nod, blowing me a kiss before he turns his back to me.

“Awww,” Cassie crows, joined by Vic, who leans over and nudges my shoulder hard.

“He loves you!” she jokes, both of them clearly enjoying this moment for themselves, and my mom laughs while my dad smiles softly.

“Well, if it isn’t beautiful Cayla,” I hear the familiar voice behind me and turn, smiling broadly at Deb and Sonny, who take the seats behind me.

“I didn’t know you were coming. Tanner never said anything,” I say, giving them each a hug.

“We didn’t want to miss his last game that was local,” Sonny says, giving me a smile that calms the guilt to a certain degree.

I introduce them to my folks, and my mom looks at me excitedly before starting a conversation with Deb about small worlds. I have filled my parents in on the fact that we all lived very close to each other, and my parents were shocked to hear that the boy who babysat me and Johnny Eldridge, the other neighbor boy, was indeed, the man I’d fallen in love with.

Vic nudges me. “Ooh, the in-laws are getting along.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and Cassie and I laugh at her. “Shush you,” I say before listening to what the announcer is saying.

The announcer pauses, and I see Lincoln standing near one of the doors that lead to the ice. Security stands at the door, waiting for someone, and we watch to see what’s going on.

“Now,” the announcer starts. “We’re heading down to the ice where Lincoln Ellis has an announcement.”

I sit up straighter. “What’s going on? Was he drafted?”

Dad chuckles and nods at the ice. “Just watch.”

Clearly, from the look on both of my parents’ faces, they were in on whatever is going on, and I turn my attention back to my brother, my eyes quickly bouncing to Tanner and back.

“Hello, hockey fans!” Lincoln crows into the microphone, making the arena erupt in excitement. “I know you’re all ready for some hockey, but I have something I need to do really fast.” He looks around the audience and says, “I have to apologize to my big sister.”

There are some “awes” and cheers in the crowd, but I slouch lower, hoping no one knows who I am.

“Can someone get Mickey down here?” he says into the microphone, and Crew makes his way to the door where the security guard waits, he nods at Crew and then walks right to our row, gesturing for me to go with him.

I glance at my parents and then stand, following the guard down to the ice. I glance at Tanner who smiles at me, I frown, mouthing, “What is going on?” and he just shrugs.

I step onto the ice where Crew holds out his arm for me. I give him a look, and he just smiles like this is an everyday occurrence. He had quickly turned into the little brother I didn’t need but got anyway, and I sigh when I realize he’s not going to do anything to help me out here.

“So, I made a mistake,” Lincoln says into the mic, his eyes on me. I finally reach him, crossing my arms and irritated that he’s making a spectacle. “I didn’t support my sister on something huge that she really needed my support on, and I was a bad brother.”

He pulls the mic away from his mouth and looks at me, I can see the regret on my brother’s face, and it reminds me of when he would get in trouble when he was a little boy. It immediately starts to soften my heart. “I’m really sorry, Mickey. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was caught off guard, as I’ve told Coach, and I reacted badly. I don’t know why I did that, and I hope you can accept my apology and my gift.”

I sniff, willing myself not to cry tears of relief when I realize my brother is finally putting on his big boy pants and accepting what I’ve chosen. Accepting Tanner and me.

“What gift?” I raise a shoulder nonchalantly, hoping he lets the fact that I’m crying at his game go.

He grins and gestures to Connor, who hands him a jersey, and I frown at it. “We had this specially made just for you.”

I take the jersey and turn it so I can see the back. It’s got the number eight on it, and above that, Coach Mitchum is written in big block letters. Eight was Tanner’s pro number when he played with the Bandits.

I look to Lincoln and back at the jersey. “Linc.”

“I approve, but more than that, we all do.” He gestures to the hockey team, and they clap in unison, chanting, “Coach, Coach, Coach, Coach.”

I turn and see Tanner step onto the ice, walking slowly to me with a grin on his face when he sees the jersey in my hand, and I hold it to my chest, letting him come to me.

He looks down at me with love and adoration in his expression and takes my face in his hands. “I love you.”

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