Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80889 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “I know as much about most of them as I do about Lucy.”
“True,” he admits. “Still, stop worrying about it. If Pepper is happy and you’re happy and Charlie’s happy, what do you care?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter as I clasp my hands behind my neck and look up to the ceiling. “It’s just…it’s not how I would have chosen to start a relationship. It makes things murky.”
Bishop nods in understanding and claps me again on the shoulder. “Good thing you got plenty of time to let things clear up. Relax, man, and quit trying to get everything figured out right now. In fact, let’s get to our warm-up and then you need to get your head into game mode, okay?”
“Yeah, sure…okay,” I mutter. He’s right. For the next few hours, I need to make my teammates and this organization the most important thing in my life. My concerns about Pepper, Charlie, and Lida will just have to wait a bit.
* * *
—
Getting my second shutout in back-to-back games gives me the confidence to approach Coach Perron. I nod to, fist bump, or high five my teammates as they leave one by one, each making sure to congratulate me again on a perfect game giving us one more win in the bag.
“Tomorrow?” Bishop asks as he comes up to me, holding his fist out.
I bump mine against his. “9:00 A.M.”
Tomorrow we work out and see if we can take Tacker out for some coffee to establish some conversation. I’ll need to make sure Lucy is at the house by 8:00 A.M. and it will be a good test run for her to watch Charlie without Pepper hanging over her shoulder. Still, I’m comforted by the fact that Pepper is just next door if Lucy needs help for some reason.
Of course, if I have my way when I get home tonight, I’ll have no problem talking Pepper into staying the night. I can be very persuasive when I want to be, and I want her to challenge me to persuade tonight.
Bishop leaves the locker room and I grab my game duffel. Rather than leave, I head over to Coach Perron’s office which sits just off the locker room. He chose this office rather than one over in the executive suite because he told us on the first day of training camp, “I’m not a mahogany desk and leather chair kind of guy.”
I find him sitting at his desk, typing notes into his laptop. I know he’s memorializing his immediate thoughts postgame and I’m hesitant to interrupt him, but he takes away my worry by saying—without even looking up to see who is standing in his doorway—“What can I help you with?”
“Got a minute to talk, Coach?” I ask.
He glances at me, then nods toward a chair opposite his desk. “Just give me a second to finish this thought.”
I take a seat and he types for a minute more. When he’s done, he pushes the laptop to the side but doesn’t close it, indicating to me that he has more work to do tonight before he leaves the arena.
Coach Perron clasps his hands on the desk and gives me a smile. “Great job tonight. You’re on fire, Legend.”
I seize onto that, hoping that will make him amenable to my request. I smile in acknowledgment of his compliment, and just launch right into my plea. “I’ve got a personal situation going on with my daughter and her birth mother. I’m hesitant to leave for the away game on Saturday and would like to request to stay back. Baden’s been playing well as backup and Winnipeg’s not been overly strong this year—”
“You thinking to tell me how to coach this team?” he growls, interrupting my flow.
“No, sir,” I reply, but I don’t offer more. I laid out my issue as succinctly as I could. No sense in going into detail that I’m beyond nervous at the thought of leaving Charlie. Granted, it would be just over twenty-four hours with a flight to Winnipeg that would return early the next day, but given the uncertainty of what’s happening with Lida, I don’t want to go.
This could be career suicide but I’m prepared to insist on it.
Coach Perron stares at me, his face stony.
Totally unyielding.
I stare back, not willing to admit this was probably a dumb idea asking for a night off, which you just don’t do in professional hockey.
Instead, he shocks the shit out of me by saying, “Bring your daughter along.”
I blink at him, not sure I heard him right. “Excuse me?”
“Bring her along,” he says offhandedly and pulls his laptop back over. He starts typing again, but then stops and looks up. “You can’t do it all the time, but I realize you have unusual circumstances going on. We’ll help get you through this, but you are not going to miss Saturday’s game. Not when you’re playing the best hockey out of any goalie in the league.”