Page 86 of Pipe Dreams
He lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”
“I’m here to remind you not to be smug.”
Georgia giggled.
And that was the last moment of levity that evening. The game ground on, scoreless through the third period. After the Zamboni cleared the ice one more time, Lauren watched her boys come back on for the overtime period. They looked tired, but determined.
So did Detroit.
Lauren fidgeted as play began again. She chewed ice cubes and rocked on her heels. Her eyes were dry from staring so long at the rink.
Overtime periods weren’t like regular periods, though—they were played with the sudden death rule. A goal ended the game. So one moment Lauren was watching Trevi try to get the puck away from his opponent, who passed it behind his body. One second later another opponent was flying toward Mike with the puck, unguarded on a breakaway. She saw Mike look for the deke and make his choice, positioning his body toward the left.
Then the puck flew right past his right shoulder and into the net.
Before she could had even make sense of the play, the game was over. Mike collapsed in frustration onto the ice, his head in his hands. And fifteen thousand Brooklyn fans made noises of frustration.
That was it.Time to hit the showers, boys. Nothing more to be done tonight.
Depressed, Lauren made her way downstairs, as if by habit. At a home game, with Becca covering the office again, there was no reason for her to stick around.
Except for one.
The corridor outside the dressing room was buzzing with journalists and family members. It was terribly crowded. Even as Lauren contemplated fighting her way through the scrum, she spotted Elsa and her babysitter down there, waiting for Mike to make an appearance.
Lauren hesitated. She hung back, trying to decide what to do. Whatever words of support she might offer Mike tonight would keep until tomorrow.
As she thought it through, the dressing room door opened and the man himself came through it, his hair wet from the shower. His daughter lunged. She threw herself at him, grabbing him around the neck and hugging him tightly.
Mike closed his eyes. He lifted his girl into the air and said something tender into her ear.
Lauren turned around then without another thought. The man had his hands full. She made her way out to street level, where she found a yellow cab with its light on and got inside.
I’m sorry, she texted Mike from the cab.Can’t win ’em all. Talk tomorrow?
When her phone vibrated a moment later, she looked for Mike’s reply. But the text wasn’t from him. It was from her father.I knew they’d choke, he said.
Nice, dad, she wanted to reply. The man was still bitter. Yet glued to the game. She could picture him in his lounge chair, yelling at the TV.
Lauren put her phone away and spent the rest of the ride looking out the window, watching the lights of New York City speed toward her on the Brooklyn Bridge. It was sucha romantic view of a busy city that it was easy for her to imagine that she was the only one alone tonight.
Don’t go there, she coached herself. She was no more alone tonight than she’d been during her other single years.
When her cab arrived at her apartment building, she paid the man and got out. Inside her lobby, she gave Jerry, the night doorman, a wave on her way to the elevator.
“Hot date, maybe?” he asked as she waited for the car to descend. “Please don’t tell me you worked late again tonight.”
“Not this time. I was at the hockey game in Brooklyn.”
He leaned forward in his seat. “Yeah? I didn’t take you for a hockey fan, Miss Lauren.”
She laughed, because that was hysterical. Her whole life had been hockey until the minute she moved into this building. “For the record, I didn’t take you for a hockey fan, either. But I used to work for the team. Before I moved to Manhattan.”
His eyes popped wide. “Shut the front door! You know all the players?”
“Pretty much.” The elevator doors parted in front of her.
“Stay cool, Miss Lauren!” Jerry yelled as she stepped inside.
