Page 99 of Pipe Dreams
“Is there?”
Beacon shook his head. “No. I had a little freak-out thinking something was wrong with my kid. And I thought the hotel was closer than it really was. It’s a long, boring story. But I got us into this weird situation so Doulie wants to have some fun with it.”
“It’s only fun until someone loses a goal.”
Beacon grinned. “You’re going to get scored on tonight. So am I, probably. But you’re going to get scored on first.”
“Oh, joy.”
“I’m not kidding.” It came out a little gruff and Silas’s young brow furrowed. “You’re starting this game. And there’s gonna be an ugly moment when you can’t hold them off. The lamp is gonna light behind you and it’s going to feel like shit. Your job is to make sure that happens later instead of sooner. That’s all. You’re playing until one goal gets through. Game seven in the play-offs. Make itcount.”
“Okay.” Silas nodded, his jaw set. “All right.”
“Good man.” Beacon maneuvered his hips to stretch out.
“Detroit is going to assume either that you’re injured or that we’re insane.”
“They’ll think whatever they think. Just do what you’ve been doing in practice, bud. This is gonna be fun.”
“Wonder if my mom is watching tonight.” He chuckled into the mat. “It will be interesting.”
“Let’s go!” said Hugh from the doorway. “On the ice, Silas.”
“You got this!” Beacon called from the mat. “I’ll be on the bench just after the game starts.”
Silas got up, gave him a salute and strode away.
•••
Beacon suited up just as soon as the rest of the guys went out for the pregame announcement and the quick warm-up skate. When he tossed his phone into his locker, the screen held a text from Lauren.We’re here and we’re fine and we love you!
There were three heart emojis, but he was more thrilled with thewein that sentence. He strapped on his pads knowing everything was fine in half his universe, at least.
But it was time to do battle.
It was odd to lace up his skates in an empty dressing room. He hadn’t been the backup in ten years. He didn’t show his face until two minutes of game play had elapsed. Then he walked very slowly down the chute and toward the bench, where his teammates gathered.
Maybe it was normal for them to gather here, but he never did. It was a little like crashing a party. Henry—the trainer—waved him in and stepped aside so that Beak could maneuver down the row to the last seat in front of the door. The backup’s seat. He got situated and checked Silas’s face. The kid’s eyes scanned the ice, watching plays develop, waiting to lunge into action. His skating looked loose and controlled.
“To Crikey!” Silas shouted at his forwards when they’d missed their open man. Detroit was setting up a rush. Beaconfelt it, and he saw from Silas’s body language that the kid between the pipes felt it, too.
Come on, buddy. You can do this in game seven the same as you do it in practice.
O’Doul made a nuisance of himself, so by the time Detroit got a shot it wasn’t much of a shot at all. Silas flicked it away with all the concern of a horse batting a fly with its tail. And just like that the kid made his first save of the night.
“Yeah!” Beacon yelled.
Detroit went in for the rebound, but it took them a couple of seconds. Silas had time to get into position and grab the puck right out of the air.
The whistle blew, and Silas waited for the ref to collect it from his glove.
“He looks solid,” Trevi said under his breath from beside Beacon.
“Yeah, he does,” Beacon agreed.
The minutes in the first period ticked down slowly. The Brooklyn team relaxed into the unusual situation, pressing on Detroit as best they could. As Beacon watched, it began to work. His teammates created scoring opportunities against a flustered opponent. They took shot after shot on goal, while Detroit was forced to play defense.
Then something amazing happened—O’Doul put one into the net with only two minutes left in the period. And then Trevi got one ninety-two seconds later, with a deke that could have won an Academy Award.
