“Dad.” She felt around and then grabbed my wrist. “This is real, right?”
“Uh-huh.” I blinked a few times as I tried to hold my phone steady. “Yeah, it’s real.”
And holy shit, it was. While Dallas watched and I videoed, the players faced off at center ice. The clock on the Jumbotron started, and suddenly the Snow Bears were playing for nobody except us. There were no flashing ads, no strobe lights, no roaring fans, no overwhelming noise or strong smells to drive Dallas into a miserable night. Hockey wasn’t, by its nature, a quiet sport, but this was a volume level she could handle. Players hitting pucks, calling out to each other, and occasionally slamming into each other and the glass wasn’t the same degree of loud that triggered her migraines. The nonstop barrage of noise from a roaring crowd was too much for her. This? Not so bad as long as she wasn’t subjected to it for hours on end.
They were also quite clearly playing at maybe eighty percent, if that. Practice intensity, I suspected, and likely for their benefit more than anything. Fine by me—the very fact that they’d done this at all for my kid was blowing my mind. I wasn’t going to quibble over them not playing like this was a Cup final.
Especially since these were professional hockey players—even dialed back intensity didn’t exactly mean a boring game. They were all just a little too competitive to not try to win. The puck went back and forth at breakneck speed, and no one was giving away goals. In fact they were almost four minutes into the game before someone finally slipped the puck past a goalie, scoring a point for the “away” team. The intensity ratcheted up after that, too—a minute later, the “home” team scored. They still kept it dialed back enough to, I assumed, avoid injuries and muscle strain, but there was only so much professional athletes were going to hold back even in a friendly competition.
Dallas grinned bigger than I’d seen in a long time as she watched from the edge of her seat. “Think we’ll see any fights?”
I chuckled. “Don’t hold your breath, kid. They do have a real game coming up.”
“Pfft. They’re hockey players. One fight won’t mess them up.”
I just laughed and shook my head.
The teams managed to tie up the score with two points apiece when time ran out. I was briefly disappointed, thinking it was over too soon, but one of the refs blew a whistle, and the teams switched sides. They all paused to let some arena employees shovel the snow off the ice, and then the clock read 10:00 again, and the teams faced off at center ice.
When all was said and done, they played two ten-minute periods, and the “away” team—Kelly’s team—won by a single goal. The players skated toward the bench, led by Kelly.
“Now you got to see some hockey!” he called out with a grin.
“I did! Thank you!” She paused, then added in a playfully pouty voice, “But I didn’t get to see any fights!”
Without missing a beat, Jameson, one of the defensemen, gave Collier a sideways shove. Collier wasn’t expecting it, and with a yelp of surprise, tumbled into Andersson, and they both toppled onto the ice in a flurry of “what the hell?” and “damn it, asshole!”
Jameson gave Dallas a thumbs-up and a big shit-eating grin.
Dallas howled with laughter. “Oh my God, I want to be like them when I grow up.”
I snorted. “I think step one is to not grow up.”
“Ooh, perfect.”
As the players disappeared into the locker room, Richard reappeared beside us and smiled again. “Would you come with me, please?”
We got up and started to follow him, but Dallas looked back at the rink with a wistful sigh. “Man, that was fun. I wish it wasn’t over already.”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Richard glanced at her. “It’s not.”
Chapter 3
Jase
Unlike an actual game, we weren’t bombarded with reporters in the locker room. Everyone took off their gear, showered, and dressed again, though we dressed casually instead of putting on suits like we usually wore to and from games. I didn’t really have time for my usual winddown, but I didn’t need it tonight like I did after a real game. Especially since the part that had me jittery and nervous right now wasn’t the hockey we’d just played. It was everything Richard from Public Relations and I had planned for afterward.