Page 102 of Goal Line
“He saidhewas the one who asked our general manager to get me traded to Boston.”
“And why is this significant?”
“I always assumed Charlie, that’s Eva’s dad and our head coach,” I remind her, “asked her to bring me to Boston. Or Evan Knight, our goalie coach, because I’d trained with him in the summers before. I didn’t even know Colt when he made the suggestion. And he’s the best goalie in the league. So the fact that he chose me to fill his shoes when he retires at the end of next season...it’s a lot to process.”
“Do you feel good about that?”
“Yeah, for sure. I guess it’s still a little confusing because of what my dad said.” I rub the bridge on my nose to relieve the pressure that forms there every time I rehash
Behind her glasses, her eyebrows dip in confusion. “What did your dad say?”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you when I explained why Eva and I got married?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “I was at the Rebels offices for a meeting with AJ shortly after Game 7 and accidentally overheard my dad and my brother, Tucker, meetingwith her. And my dad said, ‘This is why I didn’t want you to bring Luke onto this team.’”
She lifts her chin as she studies me. “What do you think he meant by that?”
I scoff out a laugh. “What elsecouldhe have meant? He said it put him ‘in a really tough position.’”
“I’ll bet.”
Now it’s my turn to look at her with confusion written across my face, but I’m at a loss for what to say. “Why do you bet?”
“Because from everything you said about your dad when you were telling me about your family and the team, he sounds like a supportive, dedicated father who loves his kids, and a fair and respectful owner of your team.”
I nod, because it’s all true. I didn’t just paint that picture of my dad. Thatismy dad. Which is why this all hurts so much.
“So how do you think those two things—loving dad and a fair team owner—might come into conflict after that Game 7 loss?”
My teeth sink into my lower lip as I take a deep breath, considering her question. “I guess how he’d want to respond as a dad could be at odds with how he might need to respond as the owner of the team?”
“Thatwouldbe a really tough position.” I don’t miss how she intentionally uses my father’s words.
“So you’re suggesting that...maybe he didn’t want me on the team because he just wanted to be my dad, not because he didn’t think I was good enough to play for the Rebels?”
“I’m suggesting that it’s possible. And I’m also sensing apattern here. You thought you knew how Eva felt about you, so you didn’t tell her about your own feelings, and as a result, you almost missed out on a future with her. You thought your dad meant you weren’t good enough to play for his team, so you didn’t talk to him about it and have instead let it affect how you feel about playing for the Rebels. But what if he meant something else entirely?”
“Hmmmm.” It’s all I can respond with. I always thought I was good at reading people—it’s an essential skill for a goalie and one I thought I’d pretty much mastered. But maybe my ability to recognize a player’s intentions on the ice doesn’t necessarily translate into an ability to understand people’s intentions off it, in the way I always thought.
“And most importantly,” Chloe adds, “why are you more concerned with keeping the peace than with going after what you want?”
“I grew up with three much older brothers,” I tell her, “who all have well-deserved reputations for being...difficult. I was always the easy one, the peacemaker. My mom used to say I was her gift for surviving Preston, Tucker, and Tristan, so I always tried to be reliable and supportive. Even with hockey, I gravitated toward being a goalie because it’s a protective role, where your teammates know they can rely on you to back them up. With Eva, all I’ve ever wanted to do is be there for her in whatever way she needed me, regardless of what I actually wanted. So...” I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I guess I’ve spent my whole life being a people pleaser.”
I chuckle softly, and when Chloe doesn’t say anything right away, I continue. “I’m trying to wrap my mind around the irony, because I’ve always claimed not to care whatpeople think and encouraged Eva to care less about others’ opinions. But maybe...maybe I care a whole lot more than I thought.”
“Could that be why you took the Game 7 loss so hard?”
“I took the Game 7 loss hard because I froze in the most important moment of my career. All that training, all the years of practices and games, then when my team needed me, I let them down.” I press my lips together, still frustrated with myself. It wasn’tjusta game. It wasthegame.
“People have bad games, Luke,” Chloe says. “And it sounds like your coaches, your teammates, and even your GM have reminded you of this on multiple occasions.”
“Yeah, but...nothing like that has ever happened to me. I guess I’m still not sure how to think about it.”
“You’ve never lost a game before?”
“I’ve never stood in the goal and let puck after puck get by me because I was too distracted to care about what was happening on the ice. And I don’t know how to make sure it never happens again.”
I can hear the frustration in my voice, because I need to know what to do differently next time, and I just want her to tell me.
“There are things about the game you can’t control—like your starting goalie getting injured, or your defense falling apart. And if either of those things hadn’t happened, then you wouldn’t have had all that added pressure on you.”
