I can hear Vince frowning. “Does a signing bonus feel right? What about the words contract player?”
“Yeah, they sound great. But they’ll sound better in a year or two. Now just isn’t the right time for me.”
“All due respect, I’m not sure you get how this works. When they call you up, you go. It’s not your choice. It’s theirs. And right now, there’s an open spot waiting for you. An opportunity like this isn’t gonna come again.”
My silence tells Vince everything he needs to know.
“Look, you’ve got a baby. You’re probably not getting a lot of sleep. Take a rest, get your head on straight, and I’ll call you with the details tonight, okay? I might be able to buy you a couple weeks. Let me see.”
The line goes dead and I’m still staring at my phone when Maggie pads through the living room ten minutes later.
“You need your sleep,” I say, wrapping a hand over Calla’s little diapered butt. “I’ve got her.”
“I know, and I had a great power nap. But now I’m starving. Hey, are you okay?” she asks, forgetting her mission for food and settling in next to me on the couch. “You’re just staring at your phone. Is Mickey trying to teleport through it, perhaps?”
I laugh. “That’d be awesome. But no. Vince called.”
“Vince is…”
“My agent. Portland’s calling me up. I’ve got a job. Yay!” My feigned excitement rings hollow.
“Portland as in Maine?”
I shake my head. “Oregon. I’m a Sasquatch, Cinderella.”
Maggie’s quiet as she processes the information. “That’s pretty amazing. I mean, that’s what you want, right?”
“It’s the chance of a lifetime, seriously. I mean, when you get drafted, there’s no guarantee. They could keep you, cutyou, trade you. They’re basically just calling dibs. But this? This is real. I’ll have a job. An income. A signing bonus. Our very own healthcare.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. And you get to do your thing. Watching you was pretty incredible. So, do they make Sasquatch onesies? And off-the-shoulder tees? Because Calla and I need to represent at your games.”
In this moment, I’m not sure I could love Maggie more. I just told her we’re moving our week-old baby across the country. She knows the travel schedule is insane, and all she can say is that she and our infant will be my cheering section.
“I don’t want to go,” I tell her honestly. “I mean, I do, of course. It’s the dream. But right now? No. Across the country? Nope. And constant travel? It’s not fair.”
Maggie leans her head on my shoulder. “Life isn’t fair. Sometimes you get a crappy hand you don’t deserve. And sometimes, for no reason at all, you win the jackpot. A wise man once told me to enjoy the good stuff, so that’s what I’m going to do. And you and Calla are definitely the good stuff.”
“You’re right, and I know it, but it just feels…off. I’ll be traveling constantly. The schedule is grueling. We’ll have a couple weeks to get settled, but then training camp starts. I’ll barely see you, and I’ll miss so many moments. I don’t want to be absent, like my parents were. It’s different, but still. I don’t want that for her, or for you.”
“Can you tell them no?” Maggie asks as the baby stirs. In just a week, she’s become an expert. I watch in awe as Calla roots around and latches on. Maggie hisses out a breath before turning back to me.
There’s no way I can leave these two.
“I guess we’ll find out,” I tell her.
Twenty four hours later and I’m sweating my balls off. Vince thinks I’m crazy as a shithouse rat. For real. Those were his exact words. And now I’m on a Zoom call with the GM of the Portland Sasquatch. Diana Corley is a force and the look on her face tells me she thinks I’m wasting her time. And that only fools waste her time.
“Vince tells me you need a refresher on how the draft works?” she drawls, sparing me a glance before she takes a sip of her coffee.
“No, ma’am. I realize that I belong to the Portland Sasquatch until you decide I don’t.”
“That’s correct. So what’s the problem? We have a relocation team ready to help your family get settled. I was hoping you’d be ready for the game against LA on Tuesday, but I’m willing to give you an extra week, seeing as your daughter’s just been born. We’re in the midst of a playoff run, Mr. Norris, or hadn’t you heard?”
I wonder once again if I’m the biggest idiot on the face of the earth. But Maggie’s curled up in a recliner pumping milk while I’m padding around the apartment, rubbing Calla’s back and willing her to sleep.
If I go to Portland, we’d have a house. I could hire a nanny. And I’m going to the NHL, not off to war.
I look down to see my sleepy little Nugget yawn and the words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them.
