Page 50 of Pucks, Lies, and Sticktape

“Nuh-uh, Bridezilla,” Jamie retorted. “You, my dear, are part of the halftime show and will be busy.”

“Half… time?”

“I’m not saying another word – but no cowbell for you. Katie, you’re on cowbell duty,” Jamie said, handing the teenager the bell. “You and Zack-Attack can be my noisemakers. Queens, I’ve got your crowns…” and Jeannie was stunned to see the woman handing out plastic sparkling crowns to each of the women with blue or red fake gems inlaid on each one, only to see her look at her again.

“You’ll be wearing your veil,” Jamie volunteered, grinning. “I love my job.”

“You’re pretty good at it,” Jeannie admitted.

“Is everyone ready – we’ve got the countdown clock going, and they’re gonna start announcing…” Jamie’s voice was drowned out as the lights dimmed almost immediately as the speakers flooded the arena.

“Welcome to the NHL - and tonight we are in the beautiful city of Seattle where they are taking on the Wolverines in a showdown on the ice…”

Jeannie held her breath – and she was pretty sure she didn’t release it for at least an hour, maybe two.

The score was tied.

Jeannie’s heart pounded, each beat rattling against her ribs as if it were trying to escape. She gripped the edge of her seat so tightly her knuckles ached, watching the game unfold with agonizing intensity. The players were pushing themselves to the limit, every stride, every pass, every brutal collision against the boards filled with sheer determination. But it was Matthieu she couldn’t take her eyes off of.

He had started strong—until that one moment. That single, gut-wrenching second where the puck had slipped past him, the red light flashing like an accusation. Even though he had blocked six other shots, she knew him too well. He was tearing himself apart inside.

Her stomach twisted painfully as the game raged on. Boucher managed to sink a goal for the Wolverines, the brief swell of relief swallowed up by the chaos that followed. The fights tonight were relentless—some small, others downright vicious. The crowd roared, fists flew, and at one point, Jamie beside her sucked in a sharp breath.

“I can’t watch this,” she whispered, voice barely audible over the madness.

Jeannie’s eyes flickered toward the ice just as Jamie’s husband dove into a brawl, fists swinging. It was a sight she would never grow used to. The brutal, primal need to defend, to dominate, to protect. How could they just… do this? Her body flinched with every hit, every sharp slap of the puck against theboards, every bone-crunching check. It was exhausting, as if she were feeling it herself.

And then, the buzzer.

The period ended.

Jeannie exhaled sharply, the tension in her shoulders barely easing before Jamie turned to her, eyes wide, hands flailing in frantic excitement.

The air shifted.

A red carpet unfurled right in front of her, rolling toward the boards like something out of a dream—or a fairytale. Around her, the people she had come to love moved with purpose, crowns on their heads, roses in their hands.

Her stomach flipped.

“Your veil!” Jamie hissed urgently. “Put it on!”

“My veil…” Jeannie echoed, blinking rapidly. Then it hit her. “Ohhhh my veil!Oh my gosh, now?”

Her pulse skyrocketed as the arena erupted in thunderous applause.

“Tonight, we get to bear witness as one of our former players renews his vows in the city where they first met…”

Jeannie’s hands trembled so violently she nearly dropped the delicate fabric as she fumbled to pin it in place. Jamie was slapping at her hands, taking over, her phone clenched between her teeth, mumbling instructions. Ashley shoved past them both, her sharp, calm voice slicing through the chaos.

“Breathe,” Ashley commanded, her gaze locking onto Jeannie’s. “Look at me. Listen to me. If this were a plane, I’d be telling you to put your tray table upright and fasten your seatbelt. But it’s not. You are marrying your best friend, and he’s waiting for you. So let us help.”

Jeannie let out a broken, breathy laugh that ended in a choked sob. She had known this was coming, had anticipated it,dreamed about it, but now that it was here—now that it was real—it was overwhelming.

Ashley’s voice softened, soothing as she adjusted the veil. The stewardess’ tone was as steady as glass, almost like she was talking to a nervous passenger through their anxiety. Beside her, Jamie snapped photos with wild enthusiasm, capturing the moment while Matthieu’s mother patted Jeannie’s back. Katie was nearly vibrating with excitement, her hands clapping together, tears already spilling down her face.

Jeannie swallowed hard, her chest tightening as she looked around at the people surrounding her. Her friends. Her family.

Thisis what family should look like.

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