Justin appeared fierce, his hands in fists; he’d stopped telling me things, and his gaze was fixed firmly on the ice. He stood when the clock was down to two minutes and Dallas nearly scored, leaning heavily on the glass and tense as an iron pole. This was his team playing on the ice, and the poor guy probably wanted to be down there doing what he loved.
“Fu—” he stopped himself cursing, and then the most curious thing happened. One minute to go and the green team goalie left the net, skating awkwardly over to the seats and that meant that…
“Hang on,” I snapped and stood, lifting Maddie up to my shoulder, “too many men!” I exclaimed.
“It’s okay, they pull the goalie to give more men on the ice,” Justin explained without glancing at me.
“They can do that? How is that fair?”
He didn’t answer, his hands flat on the glass. All the action seemed to move toward Colorado, the camera zooming in on his intense, focused look, then back out to the hustle in front of the Raptor’s net. Players were scrapping and pushing, and it was a free-for-all, and in the middle of it Colorado was steady. There was a shove, a player breaking free, and it was one of ours. The camera followed the break out move, the name Madsen-Rowe on the jersey dogged by what seemed to be every green team player.
“Ryker, shoot, come on,” Justin murmured, “shoot.”
One of the green guys yanked at Madsen with his stick, and he began to fall, but in a desperate shove across the ice, he let the puck fly and it headed straight for the opposing empty net, lighting the lamp behind.
“Fu—Yes!” Justin let out a whoop of excitement, and by this time the rest of the management team had swarmed to the glass. Everyone cheered, because apparently there was no coming back from a 3-0 lead with only forty-seconds left in the game.
That didn’t mean Colorado stopped what he was doing, he stayed in that net like a wall until the very last horn, and then the Raptors formed an orderly queue and went up to him to tap their helmets on his. Words flashed on the Jumbotron, SHUTOUT with Colorado’s name, and I was completely smitten by the game.
And maybe with the man who’d just had the game of his life. I had this weird feeling that I wanted to whoop and holler and hug everyone, and jump up and down, but I didn’t because I had Maddie, and she was my responsibility. The joy in the box was infectious and I knew it was only game one of potentially seven, but Colorado was a God, and I worked for him, and by process of symbiosis I felt like this win was mine as well.
Simon took Maddie and me back to the hotel; Colorado would be a long time getting back, and I had the hour to give Maddie attention, tell her more physics, explain how her daddy was amazing, how hockey was remarkable, and how excited I was by my first game. Also, I needed the time to think about this poke of feelings, of a sudden desire to want to hug Colorado and tell him that I loved the game.
Maddie finally dozed off, tired of my stories, tummy full, diaper changed, and then I just needed to wait for Colorado, because I had so much to ask him.
The soft knock on the door had me yanking it open so hard that Colorado nearly fell in. He was wearing his suit and he looked happy, and lit up from the inside
“How’s Maddie?” he asked and took the long way around me to get to her, checking on his daughter and leaning right over to press a kiss to her head.
“She’s good,” I managed.
He murmured words of nonsense to her, smiling at her, his long shower-damp hair a curtain around his face, and then straightened and went back to his side of the door. Again, he avoided touching me, and I wanted to tell him all about my first game, congratulate him, find out how in hell he did the splits, and faced hundred mile an hour pucks, and ask him if it was okay if I went to all of his games, forever.
But none of the words spilled out of me in any order.
“Joe?” he asked carefully. “You look funny. Did you have too many hot dogs at the game?”
I didn’t reply because how could I extrapolate my feelings when I couldn’t quantify the emotions I was feeling?
“I’m okay,” I lied.
“Why don’t we hang out a bit? I have this new song in my head and wanted your feelings.”
“Maddie,” I said with a wave at the sleeping babe.
He plucked the baby monitor from the dresser then placed it into my hand. “Plus we’ll leave the door open. Come on, let me pluck your heart strings.”
Little did he know that I was pretty sure something was already happening.
Nine
Colorado
It took Joe forever to move. I was beginning to suspect that his big brain kind of took over at times and spun in circles. Like a 78 record. Ah, vinyl.
“Come on, Space Manny.” I slid my fingers around his wrist, jarring him from whatever whirling orbit his mind had been lodged in.
He sucked in a sharp breath at my touch but didn’t jerk his arm free. A good sign, I hoped. This whole slow mating dance thing was kind of out of my realm of experience. Generally, I only had
