Page 55 of Out Of Time

San Jose regained the puck after a scramble behind their net. Jonathan Pierce, last season’s rookie of the year, skated up the ice with Stanos, a Condors defenseman, on his heels. Max readied himself. He could see enough to make the save; he could see what was in front of him and could read the body languageenough to know that he needed to drop to his knees. Pierce was known for his “between the legs” goals, and Max wasn't going to let him pull his signature move on him tonight, not when it was a save he knew he was capable of.

He pulled his leg pads together, leaving no space for the puck to enter. The mad dash of players piled into his space and Max dropped his body to cover the puck.

The score remained zero-zero.

The clock still had twelve minutes on it.

It was just the first period.

There was a lot of fucking hockey left to be played.

***

Watching Max play hockeybeforeRemi knew what he was up against was nerve-wracking. Watching Max play hockey knowingeverythinghe was up against was going to give her a fucking heart attack. She couldn't imagine the pressure he felt to win, to prove himself, and to be able to play one more game.

Nothing was guaranteed for him anymore, and nothing hurt worse than uncertainty.

The puck dropped at the start of the third period, and Remi couldn't take her eyes off Max, no matter where the puck was. She couldn't look away, and she couldn't deny the warmth she felt in the pit of her stomach at the reminder of last night. The weight of his body on top of hers, and the way he took his time with her—her gentle giant, her sweet quiet man, she wanted him to win so he might let her celebrate him tonight.

She would celebrate his wins in front of the net until she had to celebrate him in other ways. The clock ticked down, and she watched as he made save after save, despite hiscircumstances. He was a fighter. He was brave and good, and he was hers.

A million times, yes.

The game cut to a commercial and Remi opened up her laptop. She used the break in the game to start researching. She pulled up a list of resources for people with loved ones who are going blind. Not another minute of her time would be wasted being uninformed. If she couldn't save his vision, she would prepare for its loss. They would navigate this together, as effortlessly as they could, one day at a time.

The energy in the locker room after the Condor’s big win was electric. The start of the season's losses with Max in front of the net meant nothing with the winning streak Brown, Brody, and now Max had continued, putting the Condors in a great place playoff-wise. Max accepted the congratulations of his teammates and tried to avoid the knowing glare Brown was giving him from across the locker room. Brown didn't know exactly what Max was going through, but he knew enough to have his suspicions and worry. Max tried to catch him staring so he could give the young goalie some kind of reassuring smile, but Brown wouldn't have it, he looked away every time.

Maybe Max shouldn't have said anything to his fellow goalie, or maybe, just maybe, he should have said more. Said it all. Come clean. Entrusted his fate to one of his teammates before he dropped the bomb on the whole team. Maybe it would soften the blow?

The time would come for that, but it wasn't tonight, he wasn’t ready. Not after a big win. Not when Max had miraculously defied the odds and won the game tonight.

He showered and got dressed to leave. Some of the boys were going out to celebrate, and Max rarely joined them, so it came as no surprise when Max declined their invitation to come along. This time Max had something to look forward to when he got home. He had someone waiting for him, and he couldn't get back to her soon enough.

Pulling out of the parking garage, the contrast from the fluorescent lights to the dark night sky made him strain to make out anything clearly past the hood of his Jeep. His night vision was getting worse with every sundown, just like his dad said it would. He hated that the man who never tried to find him or warn him this was coming had already been so right about all of this.

He took PCH at grandpa speed, staying in the slow lane, allowing any impatient drivers to go around him. It was the new way he had to do things—slowly and cautiously, until he couldn't drive at all anymore.

The streetlights blurred as he drove past, counting them down one by one, just like he had done with the seconds on the clock at tonight's game until he was pulling past the Subaru Outback, he knew to be Remi’s that was parked in front of his house.

Entering the house, he was hit with a wave of a newfound familiarity he had only ever dreamed of—the scent of lemon, the sound of music, the rustle of his curtains blowing about, and his back door opened to allow the night breeze to freely enter his home.

Making his way into the living space, his heart raced at the sight of a new pop of color. Sitting on the kitchen island, next to the bowl of fruit, was a plant in a teal clay pot, with a note sitting next to it.

Come down to the water.

I’m waiting.

-Remi

Max slipped off his dress shoes and suit jacket, laying it over the back of the couch. Unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. He made his way down to the beach. The night air was cool with California experiencing more rain than Max could ever recall. Something about the weather felt moody; it only fueled the burning need and desire he had for Remi, and it amplified the lingering adrenaline from the win. It made him feel alive.

He made his way past his back patio and through the small gate that led down to the beach access. He could hardly make out the shape of Remi until he was right there next to her, where she stood to greet him. Snaking her arms around his waist, she welcomed him home in a warm embrace. Instinctually, his arms came up to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her body close to his. Their hearts raced against each other, speaking a language only lovers understood, a pitter-patter of hello, I missed you, and I want you.

Max loved the way she melted into him. There was no stiffness left in her embrace, just her body against his body, and the comfort they both found in that. How could something so new and foreign to him feel so familiar?

He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “Thank you for the plant. It really livened up the kitchen.”

“It’s a‘congratulations on the big win’plant,” she said looking up at him, her smile a closed-mouth one, but the dimple on her left cheek still made an appearance.

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