Page 28 of Out Of Time

Max saw this coming. To be honest, he thought they would have put him on leave sooner.

He stayed silent.

The words on the tip of his tongue stayed put. He heard Remi’s voice in the back of his head,do scary things.

“You good man?” asked Carter.

“Yeah. I saw this coming.”

“Do you have any idea why your game is off? Is there something we can help you with? Are you injured, or maybe it's something different, something you need to talk about?”

“I…” Max faltered. “I just have a lot to think about,” he said.

“Max, if you get yourself healthy, you’re in. If I see you out on the ice performing at Max Miller level, you're in, no questions asked. But I need you to figure out whatever it is you’ve got going on before I can do that. I’ve arranged an appointment with the team's physician when you get back to Anaheim tomorrow. I want you to go and talk with her. Tell her what's going on, and maybe we can get to the bottom of this.”

“Do I have to?” Max asked, and he watched as his coach's face fell with disappointment.

“No, son, I can’t make you. But when I say I want to see you trying, I mean on and off the ice. So, take that how you will. Carter is rooming with you tonight. Get some rest, and I’ll see you back in Anaheim next week.”

Max didn't watch as Coach left, he just sat there, paralyzed with anxiety. The dizziness crept in, the floor becoming Jello under his feet.

“You know,” Carter said, “Coach means well. We’re all worried about you. The whole team is worried, Max.”

“I know.”

“We want you back on the ice with us. We love Brown, don’t get me wrong, but he’s not you, he's not Max Miller. It doesn't feel right winning without you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Max said, because words were hard, and right now, they felt impossible.

“Say you'll get help. Say you'll talk to someone and find out why one of the best goalies in the NHL suddenly can't skate to the net in a straight line, let alone save a puck most days.”

“It’s complicated,” Max mumbled.

Carter leaned forward on his knees, getting closer to Max, begging him to look up, make eye contact, and berealwith him. “What is? Losing? Not playing well? Talking? You give us nothing Max. You don’t talk to us. We’re your family, we want to know if you're okay, but no one knows how to ask.”

“I know I don’t make it easy on you,” Max admitted.

“That's for damn sure.”

“It’s just hard for me.”

“What is, Max? What’s hard for you? You can tell me anything. I know it's scary sometimes, but we gotta do scary things.”

Max’s head sprung up at Carter’s last words, the image of Remi telling him the same thing the last time he saw her playing over in his mind. Was this some kind of joke? Had she somehow contacted Carter? Was this a fucking intervention? “What the fuck did you just say?” Max asked more aggressively than Carter had ever seen from the gentle giant.

“I said I know it's scary to talk about stuff sometimes, especially as a professional athlete. I know we're expected to be tough all the time…”

“No.Whatdid you say? Word for word, what did you say?”

“I don’t know, I was just talking from my heart.”

“You said, we have to do scary things,” Max repeated.

“Yeah, absolutely we do. And I want you to know I’m here for you, no matter what you say, I’m here.”

Max stood up, the lighting in the room making it hard for him to make out the contrast of the space around him. He took two steps towards the dresser to grab his water bottle and tripped over something he hadn't seen at his feet. Falling intothe entertainment stand, Carter hurried over to grab the TV before it came crashing to the ground.

“Max,” Carter asked, placing a hand on his back to steady him, “you okay, man?”

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