Page 99 of Slap Shot
“It’s not.” I smile at Lucy, and she sticks her tongue out at me. “And no givebacks allowed.”
“Fine.” Madeline folds her shirt and tucks it safely back in the bag. “Luce.Do you want to give Hudson his present now?”
She jumps off the couch and races down the hall with the dogs right behind her. When I look at Madeline, there’s a twinkle in her eye.
“You got me a present?”
“Lucy did. She’s been working on it for two weeks and is so excited to give it to you. It’s nothing big, but if you could pretend it’s the coolest thing in the world, I’d be so grateful.”
“I’m sure I’m going to love it,” I say, and ten feet charge toward us. Lucy jumps in my lap and hands over a large envelope. I open it, finding a dozen papers inside. “What?—”
“They’re drawings. Of you and her and the dogs. Of you and me at the stove while she watches us make dinner. Of you playing hockey,” Madeline explains as I flip through the pages, and my chest feels impossibly tight.
My throat closes up, my eyes blur with tears. A drop of water falls on the corner of the paper and makes the marker bleed. Lucy touches my cheek and tilts my head to look at her. She starts to sign, and I keep my eyes on her.
“She wants you to know how much she loves being here. How much she loves the dogs and how much fun she has when you’re around,” Madeline tells me, acting as my interpreter.
“This…” I shake my head. Words are difficult to find. Impossible, really. There’s a picture of the dogs at the rink and me in stick figure form, and my nose stings. I bring my right hand to my chin with an open palm facing me, and I move itslightly forward toward Lucy. “Thank you,” I sign, using one of the only phrases I have memorized.
Lucy lights up. She throws her arms around me again, and her hug is the best feeling in the world. When I look at Madeline, I see her fighting back her own tears.
“I don’t know how long y’all plan to stay, but my home is your home for as long as you’d like it to be. For another year. For five more years,” I say. “You’re both welcome here. If this is what Christmas looks like from now on, I can’t wait to have a whole condo covered in Lucy’s drawings next year.”
“Best Christmas ever,” Madeline whispers.“Nothing’s going to top this.”
“Without a fucking doubt,” I agree.
TWENTY-NINE
HUDSON
The weekafter Christmas passes with morning skates, an away game we easily win, a therapy session, and an afternoon delivering gifts to the local hospital.
Our fans donated toys at each of our home games throughout December, and getting to spend some time with kids who can’t be home for the holidays really puts a lot of things into perspective.
On New Year’s Eve, I sit next to Madeline on the couch and set a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.
“Did you get Lucy to fall asleep?” I ask, tossing a kernel in my mouth.
“It took me forever, and you’re going to think I’m a horrible parent, but I did it. I pulled up a fake countdown on my phone and pretended it was midnight even though it’s only eleven forty-five,” she says.
“That doesn’t make you horrible. It makes you a goddamn genius. And it’s not too much of a lie. We’re only fifteen minutes away.”
“Thanks for the reassurance.” She pulls her legs to her chest and glances at the television. “New York on New Year’s Eve looks like an absolute madhouse. I don’t think I could do it.”
“No way. Standing in the cold and having to use an adult diaper? I’m all set.” I turn up the volume so we can hear the host give us the ten-minute warning until the ball drops. “Do you have any resolutions for the new year?”
“Wow, Bombshell.” She taps her cheek, contemplating. “You’re tossing me some hard hitting questions.”
“You don’t have to answer.” I shrug and take another bite of popcorn. “You’re allowed to have secrets.”
“I think I’d like to make more time for myself. Lucy is always going to be my number one priority, but I want to say yes to the thingsIwant to do. That includes taking care of myself and knowing when to delegate some of my responsibilities to other people who are willing to help.” Madeline pauses and looks at me. “What are your resolutions?”
I like her resolution. It’s nice to hear her wanting to put herself first, and I’m going to make sure I’m ready to jump in if she needs me.
“My resolutions? I want to spend more time with my friends off the ice. I want to volunteer more at the animal shelter. I’d like to give away some of the resources I’ve been blessed with to people who deserve it.” I shrug and play with the throw blanket by my thigh. “The next one is stupid.”
She grins. “Does it involve dying your hair?”
