Page 19 of From Ice to Home
“Fine, no skipping out. I’ll talk to Harry. He’s always been very open door policy with the team. I’m sure if I explain myself to him, he’d understand the situation.”
“Understand what?” Harry asks, strolling into the locker room like he’s been summoned. Our general manager is in his suit as usual, his broad build filling out the room as he adjusts his bright blue and red tie. His salt-and-pepper hair is unkempt, his eyes tired with balancing everything this deep into the season.
“Why you’ve been playing like sh---” he stops himself, scratching at the five o’clock shadow along his jaw. “Why you’ve beenoffthis whole week?”
“And that’s our cue,” EJ says, tugging Declan by the collar. “We’ll see you later.”
I nod, watching as my teammates leave the locker room. EJ tosses an encouraging look across his shoulder before shoving Declan out the door.
Harry Matlock is standing in front of me, his arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face as he waits for me to give him an answer. He might be the team’s GM, but he’s also kind of a father to everyone—strict enough and more than willing to keep us disciplined. He likes being more involved with the team, unlike other managers. He wants to keep his finger on the pulse of his team.
“I have to go back home for a day or two,” I tell him straight. There’s no point in beating around the bush. I need this and he’s the only person who can help me with it.
He laughs, but there’s not a drop of humor in it. “You’re joking right, Walker?” he asks, his brows rising.
“No, Harry, I’m afraid not.” I breathe out, hating that I’m even asking this of him.
His jaw tightens and he shoves his fists into his pockets. “Your brother better be on fire if you’re throwing this to me the night before we play the Leafs.”
“I know my timing isn’t great—“
“Not great?” he huffs, leaning forward. “Walker, this is ridiculous.”
“I’ll fly out tomorrow after the game and be back in time for our game back home.” It’s going to be tight, but I know I can make it. I just need to see Hannah, to at least try to get some sort of clarity on what’s going on.
His dark eyes bore into mine—searching for something, some sign of weakness, lies, a reason to shut me down. “You know this is not how this works.”
I sigh, frustration and determination warring inside me. “I know, but I have a situation to deal with.”
He nods, taking a minute to contemplate. “I’m going to need a little bit more than that if you want me to let you walk out of here three days before a game. A game that could take us to the finals, no less.”
I run my hand through my hair, the wedding ring burning against my chest as I look at my manager, knowing that I’ll have to come clean at some point. If I don’t, Harry is going to lose it—and then I might lose this chance to see Hannah.
“I got married in Vegas last weekend,” I say, meeting his eyes squarely.
His eyes widen as he drags his hand across his mouth, his features twisting in disbelief and frustration. “God help you if that’s true.”
I really do need God’s help. Not only in talking to Hannah, but in how to move forward through all of this. I know I jumped into this without talking to Him about it, but I alsoknow He knows Hannah. He knows our history and I believe that everything happens for a reason. Even this.
“It’s true, Harry.”
Harry exhales deeply, the sound heavy in the quiet locker room. “So let me get this straight.” He holds up a hand, ticking off points like he’s strategizing for the next play. “You’re telling me you got married—in Vegas—in the middle of the playoffs? And now what? You want to fly off and fix it? End it?”
“Yes, I want to fix it,” I say without sugarcoating it.
“You’ve got some nerve, kid. I’ll give you that.” His hand scrubs over his face again as he mutters something under his breath. “Who is she?”
“Someone I know from back home,” I say, hating the understatement when talking about Hannah.
He shakes his head, like my words are causing him pain. “Where’s she now?”
“In Georgetown,” I admit. “She left Vegas right after…well, after we got married. I haven’t seen her or spoken to her since.”
“Good,” he mutters, his voice laced with sarcasm. “More things that need to be managed.”
“Listen, I’ll sort this out,” I say firmly. “I just need my two days.”
Harry sighs again, his shoulder slumping slightly as he looks at me. “I like you. That’s why I’m going to make a few calls and get you home after tomorrow night’s game. You’ll haveoneday to sort this out on your own, Walker, before I have to start drafting a press release of some kind. If anyone gets wind of this, it’s going to be a freak out session. You know that right?”
