Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“I’m positive, Joe.” Wrapped in her winter coat, she tucked her hands in her pockets. “Let’s go in.”
“We don’t have to, if you’re tired.”
“I’m fine.” She smiled at me. “Plus, we said we’d be here. Your friends are expecting us. How can they celebrate the win without the MVP?”
With just a few seconds left on the clock, I’d scored the tie-breaking goal that clinched our victory. But I couldn’t take all the credit. “I’m not the MVP. I got a great pass from Larsson.”
“You’re right, you’re just a chump.” Pulling a hand from her pocket, she gave me a light punch on the shoulder. “Well, let’s go in so I can congratulate him then.”
Laughing, I swung the door open. “Okay, but when you’re done, let me know. We can leave whenever you want.”
Inside, the pub was busy. A long wooden bar occupied the wall on the left, lined with people packed three deep. Bartenders moved quickly, pouring pints of beer or mixing drinks from rows of shiny glass bottles on shelves behind them. The rattle of ice in metal cocktail shakers could barely be heard over the loud Irish rock blaring from the speakers, and people shouted to be heard over the music.
Instinctively, I took Mabel’s hand and pulled her through the room, where groups of people huddled over high-top tables or sat in booths over to the right. Many wore Chicago jerseys—Mabel was still wearing mine—and I could see people looking at me. Some even waved and called out.
“Great game, Lupo!”
“Nice goal!”
“Championship, here we come!”
I nodded or shouted thanks but kept moving, my grip on Mabel’s hand secure. At the back of the pub, I opened a thick wooden door to reveal a private room with a pool table at its center and brown leather furniture grouped in cozy formations on either side. Several of my teammates and their wives or girlfriends had already arrived and were relaxing with drinks on the couches or involved in a game of pool.
Dag Larsson’s wife, Anna, who’d sat with Mabel at the game, stood up from a couch. “Mabel!” she called, waving us over. “Come sit with us.”
“Lupo!” Larsson shouted. “Grab a stick. I need a partner.”
I hesitated, not sure if Mabel would rather I stay with her or leave her to hang out with the women.
She read my mind. “Go on,” she said. “I’m fine. You don’t have to babysit me.”
“Okay. Do you want anything to drink?”
“Not right now.”
“Let me know if you want anything. They do send servers back here, but when it gets busy, the wait can be long. We usually end up having to go to the bar.”
“Where’s the bathroom? That’s probably what I’ll need before anything else.”
“It’s just outside the door to this room.”
“Okay.” She smiled and patted my arm. “Go play. Have fun.”
I drank a few beers and shot a few games of pool, and every time I looked over at Mabel, she seemed to be having a great time.
“So who’s the girl?” My captain, a French-Canadian guy named Luc Tessier I respected for his leadership and admired for his deep understanding of the game, elbowed me, his eyes on Mabel. We stood off to the side, waiting our turn for the next game.
“A friend from back home,” I said.
“She’s visiting you?”
“Yes.” I paused, taking a swallow from my beer, debating. I decided I trusted Tessier. He was a father of two. Maybe he’d have some advice. “Actually, Luc,” I said quietly, “she’s pregnant.”
He looked at me, the question in his eyes.
“Yes. It’s mine.” For the first time, it actually felt good to say it out loud.
Tessier nodded, glancing over at Mabel again. “How far along?”
“Halfway. She just had the ultrasound where you can find out the sex last week.”
“Oh yeah? And?”
“It’s a boy.” I couldn’t help the grin that took over my face.
He smiled too, clinking his beer bottle against mine. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Although it feels strange to accept congratulations. Not only because this was completely unexpected, but because she’s doing all the work right now.”
“There will be plenty of work for you to do, don’t worry.”
I turned to face him. “How do you manage it? The balance between hockey and your kids?”
He shrugged. “It’s not always easy. I have to miss things, but I try really hard not to. My wife picks up a lot of the slack.”
“She doesn’t want to move here, because we’re not together,” I explained. “So I’ll miss a lot.”
“That’s tough.”
“But what’s the alternative? I can’t move away from Chicago.”
He thought for a moment. “When is your contract up?”
“Next year.”
“Will you sign a new one?”
“If they still want me.”
“I think they’ll still want you,” he said confidently. “But do you still want to play?”
“Yes. Hockey is my entire life.”
“Not anymore,” he said, tipping up his beer.
“It’s different for you.” I felt the need to argue. “You already have a championship ring.” Tessier had gone all the way with his previous team.