“Oh, I’m sure he does, but it’s more than that. This is his life. His passion. The thing he excels at. He wants you to see him play. He wants to look into the stands and see you.”
“So what do I do?”
“Take your old Grams to a hockey game. Consider it a good deed. Helping the elderly.”
“Do you actually want to go?”
Grandma Dot huffed. “What kind of question is that? Don’t you remember all the games we went to? It’s your damned grandfather who insists on watching from the comfort of his living room.”
Grandma Dot mimicked Grandpa Thomas. “Arenas are cold. The seats are uncomfortable. The food is expensive. The bathrooms have a line.” She reverted to her normal voice. “I don’t know how I ended up married to such an old man.”
Gemma smiled. “Good luck, I guess.”
Grandma Dot snorted. “Fine. He’s a perfectly decent example of the species, but I would very much like to go to a hockey game,especially if the seats are comped. Mason gets to see you in the stands. I get to see a live game without paying for it. Win-win.”
“And what do I get?”
Again, Gemma swore she could hear her grandmother’s reaction, this time in a knowing grin. “Oh, you’ll get something from it, dear. I have no doubt about that.”
MASON
After the media skate, it was time for the pregame meeting, where the team discussed strategy and watched game tapes. Mason noticed a bit of an ache in his right knee, but he blamed the rain and yesterday’s motorcycle ride. He just needed stretches, an ice pack, and a hot bath, in that order. The stretches came when the coach exempted him from the press conference. Mason grabbed his skates and headed out to enjoy an empty rink.
He was goofing around, certain he was alone, when he noticed a figure near the opposition team bench. The guy raised one gloved hand in greeting, and Mason skated closer, ready to tell him this was a closed rink. Then he saw the face of the other team’s enforcer.
“Hey,” Mason said, raising his own glove in a high five. Yeah, Topher was technically his opposition, but he’d known the guy for years. They’d both come into the league young and stayed there, big dogs guarding their turf, now approaching their golden years together.
Topher high-fived him back. “Looking good out there, Mace. Still fast as a fucking bullet, you bastard.”
“Notjustfast.” Mason sped off and shredded ice with his turn.
“Don’t let them see you doing that to the ice before the game.”
“Just giving the Zamboni guys something to do. You checking out the battlefield?”
“I’ve played here so often I know it by heart. I swung by to see if you were around.” He leaned over the boards. “About what happened with that kid…”
Mason made a face. “It’s fine. My rep’s bouncing back.”
“Of course it is. You’re the Mace. They freaking love you. The problem is that when they love you, they turn on you faster than if you’re just another goon in skates.”
“They expect better of me.”
“Fuck ’em. I just wanted to say…” Topher looked around and lowered his voice. “You did the right thing. I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
Mason thumped into the boards, stopping inches from Topher. “Huh?”
“I know how you can be.” Topher rolled his blue eyes. “All about the team. Loyalty is great, buddy, but you overdo it. You gotta put yourself first. The team stuff is good for the cameras—and the locker room—but in the end, it’s all about you.”
“Uh-huh.” Mason fought the urge to skate backward and disengage from the conversation.
“You gotta do what you gotta do,” Topher said. “High-sticking anyone who evensuggestswe’re ready to be put out to pasture.”
“Yeah, fuck that.”
“Right? And sometimes…” Topher looked around again. “Sometimes you gotta let the hotshot kids get knocked down a peg or two.Show them what real hockey is. They’re too soft these days. Not like us old-timers.”
“Don’t pull that back-in-my-day crap,” Mason said. “Backbeforeour day, you and I would’ve been on the permanent injury list by thirty.”
