Page 100 of Behind the Bench

He runs a hand through his hair then leans his head back. He lets out a groan of frustration before looking back down at me. He nods once and whispers, “I believe you.”

Relief floods my system. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline still surging through my veins. Confusion and anger are at battle within me. I’m desperate to speak to my dad to figure out what the hell Neil meant. Is my dad keeping a secret from me? On top of all that, I’m slightly panicking about how much the media saw. Did they see Lincoln console me, pulling me into his side? But what’s worse, did they see Lincoln push his father? The last thing I want is for any of that to be broadcasted for the world to see. Lincoln and I have both worked our asses off to get here, neither he nor I deserve for our credentials to be questioned because the media interrupted a personal moment.

Wishing I could keep my hands on him, but remembering we’re in public, I tilt my head toward the conference rooms. “Let’s go see our families.”

Lincoln doesn’t seem to care that there are eyes on us because he takes my hand and we make our way to the conference room. Everyone goes silent when we walk through the door.

Eyes dart around as everyone looks at each other, not saying a word. We must look worse for wear, because my dad takes a step toward us, anger evident on his face. “What the hell happened to you two?”

Lincoln looks between the two of us, and I can tell he’s not sure what to do. His jaw is clenched and although he never let go of my hand, his other is fisted at his side. He’s still workedup from the incident with Neil and confused as hell. I lay a hand on his arm, trying to keep him calm and look back at my dad.

“Dad, we need to talk.”

We say hello to our families and chat for a few minutes before asking them to step outside for a minute so we can speak to my dad. Even though they are reluctant to do so, they all exit the conference room to give us some privacy.

Lincoln is sitting at the conference table, shoulders hunched forward with his head down as he rests on his forearms. I fight the urge to throw my arms around him and hold him until he’s okay. That’s going to have to wait because the thing Lincoln’s dad said is gnawing away at me.

I take a seat next to Lincoln and place my hand on his leg, letting him know I’m here and on his side. He finally lifts his head up and looks at me. It’s hard to get a read on exactly what he’s feeling. He looks exhausted, but also a tad angry. It’s understandable, though. Those emotions, along with quite a few others, are running through my body too.

My dad takes a seat across from us and leans back in his chair. He looks between Lincoln and me. “What’s going on? What did you two need to talk about? Are you sure everything is okay?”

Lincoln’s hand finds mine under the table and he laces his fingers through mine. It’s the first sign he’s given me that lets me know we’re still in this together.

“Lincoln’s dad said something to us that we’re pretty confused about. We were hoping you could help us understand what he meant.”

His eyes move back and forth between us, confusion clear on his face. He sits up straight and leans forward onto the table. “I’m not sure I can be of much help, but I’ll damn sure try.”

It’s obvious my dad has no idea what we’re talking about. He’s visibly concerned by the state of Lincoln and me, thedesperation in his voice letting me know he really cares about us and wants to help.

I take a deep breath and ask the burning question. “Do you know why Lincoln’s dad told him he owes you money?”

My dad’s eyes widen and he sits back in his chair. I thought he’d look even more confused, but instead he looks guilty. The look of guilt has anger rising to the surface but before I can lash out, Lincoln squeezes my hand and speaks.

“It looks like you may know what he’s talking about. Can you please tell me what’s going on here, Jack?”

My dad and Lincoln stare at each other, never breaking eye contact before my dad nods. “This isn’t something I ever wanted you to find out, especially not like this, but I suppose there’s no turning away from it now.”

What does he mean he didn’t want us to find out?

Shock is clear on my face as my mouth sits open, eyebrows raised as high as can be. My dad notices my expression and drops his eyes for a moment, before bringing them back up to us.

He looks directly at me first. “Ellie, I have never lied to you. Not about anything that matters, at least. And before I explain, I want you to know that there was a reason this was kept quiet from both of you. I’ll gladly explain that to you. Just let me get through this before you ask any questions, okay?”

Lincoln and I both nod our heads, and my dad continues.

“It was a little less than a year after your mom’s accident. Lincoln’s uncle came to me because I was on the board for the youth hockey program you both played in. He couldn’t afford to pay the ice bill. Lincoln’s father had stopped paying.” He turns his attention to Lincoln. “Your aunt and uncle did as much as they could, but hockey is an expensive sport, as you know. There were times your dad was late or short in payment, but once he was arrested, your aunt and uncle contacted me to let me know they’d be responsible for your payments. After your uncle came to me broken-hearted, Idiscussed things with the board. We had already been planning to implement a scholarship program for children who couldn’t afford to play. We decided you would be our first scholarship recipient.”

Silence stretches between us. I turn to look at Lincoln and he’s looking down at his hands, eyes squinted, as if he’s trying to make sense of it all. He shakes his head then looks back up at my dad. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I was old enough to understand.”

My dad lets out a sigh. “You were still just a kid, Lincoln. And you had been through so much trauma already with your mom leaving and your dad being arrested. Your aunt and uncle didn’t want you to feel like a burden. They already sensed you felt out of place in their home. They were just doing what they thought was best and trying to protect you.”

Lincoln hums quietly to himself, but doesn’t say anything.

I look back to my dad, and once I see the sadness in his eyes, it all starts to click into place. My dad has always kept a close eye on Lincoln, even as a kid. I’d hear him make comments about how special of a player he was and mention that he’s one scouts should keep an eye on. Once Lincoln joined U of M’s hockey team, my dad was suddenly a super fan. Growing up and living in Michigan, we’ve always been fans, but it got to a whole new level once Lincoln started playing there. My dad’s been following his career from the start, and I never understood why. It all makes a little more sense now.

Sitting here now, I can see that the guilt is eating away at him. He’s always only done what he thinks is best for people, especially the hockey community. I reach out and squeeze his hand. “Thanks for telling us, Dad. Would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?”

“Of course, kiddo.” He stands up from the table but before leaving, he makes his way around to give me a hug. I stand and wrap my arms around him, hoping he can feel howmuch I love him. Once I pull away, he walks behind me toward Lincoln and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

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