Page 32 of That Thing You Brew
“Early bird for sure. I like to get up early.”
“Me t-too.”
I reached for the next card. “Share your deepest desires, both personally and professionally.” I glanced up from the card to read Penny’s expression. Pensive. Maybe writing it down would be easier for her, like that time in her car.
My coffee table had a little drawer under the tabletop. I pulled out the notepad and pen I kept there for list-making and set it in front of her while I answered the question.
“Professionally, I want to play at least until I’m forty. My dad played until he was forty-one, but he had a few seasons left in him. I want to be one of those rare guys who can play for the long haul. When I start to slow down, I can be a mentor to the younger guys coming up. And I don’t care where I play.” Penny jerked her head up, eyes wide. “Well, I want to stay in Colorado, of course. Because you’re here,” I reassured her. She let out a long breath. Relief? “But really, if the NHL doesn’t work out, I’d love to play in the Swiss league or the Czech league. It’s beautiful in Europe during hockey season.”
Penny handed me the notebook.
I’ve always dreamed of playing my harp in Vienna, in a grand ballroom, while couples in fancy evening attire waltz to classical music. Realistically, I’d just like to be part of any symphony and teach children how to play the harp. If I could make a living doing that, I’d be happy.
I recalled her saying there would be plenty of time for all of our dreams, and a thought began to take shape in my mind. Opa had friends in Vienna and connections all over Europe.
Suddenly, helping her overcome her stutter became even more important to me. It was holding her back from great things.
I slid my hand under hers and brought it to my lips, placing a light kiss on her knuckles. She blushed and lowered her eyelids but didn’t pull her hand away.
“I can see that happening. This summer? We can stay at the chateau and you can play for our tour guests. We could even have a party. A grand ball to introduce you to everyone.”
She drew in a breath and fixed a gaze on me that was so full of happiness and hope, I knew for sure I would fulfill my promises and take her to all the places that filled her with joy.
I was still holding her hand near my mouth. I kissed her knuckles again, then boldly brushed my lips over the top of her hand, then her wrist. The knit sleeve of her sweater prevented me from going any farther. Reluctantly, I lowered her hand to my thigh and didn’t let go.
I was falling fast and hard. I needed to slow it down or I’d fall flat on my face. We’d agreed to dateafterthe season ended.
But today, the potential of six more months of stagnancy while the Edge chased the Cup felt like forever.
There was another part to this question. What was it? I glanced at the card.
Oh, right.Deepest personal desire.
I tore my gaze away from her perfect hand and met her eyes again. “I want a family. Those four kids we talked about. I want to have enough money so that we can travel the world but also spend time with Dad’s family in Europe and with my mom’s family on the Reservation, so they can learn about their First Nations heritage. I want to start a nonprofit to pay for the kids there to fund sports—and music,” I added, as the afterthought presented itself to me.
That was a new idea, but it was important. From the approval in Penny’s eyes, she thought that was a good idea, too. I continued. “And I want to be the best husband and father I can be. Supportive, loving, and always there for my family.” I hung my head to voice the problem with it all. “But I don’t know how to do that if I’m playing pro hockey. My dad couldn’t. He retired early because he missed so much of me and Daniella growing up and wanted to do it differently for Karina and Edyta.”
Penny squeezed my hand and spoke softly. “You’ll find a way.”
No stutter.I raised my chin to study her. Eyes shining, shoulders set. A confident pose.
Progress? I sure hoped so.
“What about you?” I asked.
Her chest heaved, and she let out the air in her lungs slowly. “I … want … all … that … too.”
My chest was heaving now, and the thumping inside it was louder in my ears than the team collectively banging our sticks on the ice.
Penny turned away when I didn’t respond and took the next card. “F-favorite holiday.”
“Easy,” I said softly, mourning how this most recent “moment” had gone cold. “Christmas.”
She nodded. “Same.”
I slid the next card off the top of the deck. “What are your dealbreakers?”
Penny leaned back into the sofa, her hand guiding mine to the cushion in between us. “Lies … m-meanness. M-making fun of my st-stutter.”
