BRIDGET TOOK A look in the mirror. The sisters had been right: she had needed a new dress. Here it was, two weeks later and she was already wearing it again. She thought she was looking good, and she was feeling good as well, thanks to one gray-eyed goalie. She made her way to the hotel lobby with a smile on her face.
It was the last night of the Atlanta swimming conference, with a traditional wrap-up dinner. Except for missing Mike, Bridget had enjoyed the event. She’d learned a lot, as usual, and she’d been able to spend time with the usual suspects: a group of young coaches she didn’t run into during her regular season, many of whom she’d competed with. Connor Treadwell was one of those. They were sharing the same table at the dinner.
For once, though, she wasn’t dreaming about him. Instead, she’d been checking her phone for messages from Mike. The Blaze were playing tonight, with a chance to clinch a playoff spot, so she was eager to find out how the game went.
If she’d only known all those years ago that ignoring Connor was the best way to get his attention.
She was chatting at the table after the dinner when her phone started playing the Hockey Night in Canada theme—Mike’s ringtone. She dug into her bag, but as she pulled out her phone, someone reached over her shoulder and grabbed it out of her hand.
Connor held the phone up. “What do you think? Should we check out this guy who keeps calling Bridget?”
Bridget turned and glared at him. He wasn’t looking so good to her now. “Give that back!”
Connor instead pressed the answer button. “Bridget’s phone. Who’s calling please?”
After a pause, Connor responded. “I don’t know, Mike. Bridget is busy. And I think we’d all like to know a little more about you. Is it true that you are in fact a professional hockey player, as Bridget claims?”
Bridget flushed. Connor was making it sound like she’d been bragging about Mike. And he made it perfectly apparent that he thought she was lying, too. Had she really been infatuated with this clown?
“Oh,” said Connor. “A picture would be lovely.” He turned to the crowd around the table, plainly thinking he was being hilarious. “There’s going to be a real picture folks. Since Bridget has been so shy with showing us…” He trailed off as the text popped up on the screen. He swiped to the picture.
Connor’s mouth tightened, and his cheeks reddened. He tossed the phone to Bridget. “Guy has no sense of humor.”
Bridget couldn’t help but laugh out loud as soon as she saw Mike’s photo.
He had obviously called as soon as the game ended. He was in the locker room, sweaty and wearing only a towel. She thought he looked incredible. Connor was proud of his body, but Mike could give him a run for his money in a best abs contest. There was a defenseman on each side of Mike, similarly appareled. All three were making a rude hand gesture. The coach beside her asked to see, and once Bridget had handed it over, he passed it on until eventually everyone had a look and a laugh. By the time Bridget finally got it back, Connor had left. She escaped to the hallway and dialed Mike back.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“No one important,” Bridget answered, glad that it was now true.
“What was his problem?”
“I guess he thought I had an imaginary boyfriend. But I have a real boyfriend, don’t I?” she asked, only half joking.
“Not just any boyfriend. One who’s in the playoffs.”
Bridget fist-pumped, even though she was alone in the hallway.
“Congrats! Was my boyfriend also the first star?”
“Sorry, only second star. Maybe you want to look up that jerk answering your phone now.”
Bridget smiled. “Well, he does have an Olympic medal…” she teased.
“What color?”
Bridget laughed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested anymore.”
“Good. I’d ask more about the jerk but management is throwing a thing to celebrate clinching, so I’d better make an appearance.”
Mike said a reluctant farewell, and Bridget returned to her friends. She didn’t see Connor again.
* * *
THE HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA ringtone buzzed. Bridget grinned. She and Mike had been trying to meet up in person since she’d come back from Atlanta. They’d talked or texted almost every day, but hadn’t been able to actually get in the same room together and there were things she wanted to say in person.
She’d gone to the Provincial championships, and her A-team had qualified for Nationals. That was incredible, but it meant she still had to spend a lot of time at practice. And the Blaze traveled whenever she didn’t. But they were finally going to see each other after tonight’s game.
“Hey, Mike! Ready for the game?” Bridget was so excited she wanted to jump up and down, but since she was in her cubicle at the pool, that wasn’t a good plan. She leaned back in her chair, hoping he could talk for a while, even if she was going to see him in a few hours.
“Actually, I was wondering if you’d maybe pass your tickets on to someone else.”
Bridget sat up, on the alert. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Stop by after your practice. Come straight in when you get here. We’ll order in and watch the game here since I’m not playing. I’ll explain when you arrive.”
Toronto was starting a home-and-home with Quebec, and Bridget knew how important this game was to Mike. If he could stare down his former team, there would be very little left to question in his game. Something was up if Mike wasn’t playing.
Something big.
* * *
BRIDGET DROPPED HER tickets with her mom; she was sure Cormack could go with her dad. If not, one of the other guys would jump at the chance. Fortunately, her mother didn’t know hockey and didn’t press her with questions.
If Mike wasn’t playing, and wasn’t going to be at the arena, there was a big problem. He should still be on the bench, even if he wasn’t starting. He had to step in if something happened to Turchenko. If Mike wasn’t at the arena, that meant the team had had to call someone up from the farm team to be backup.
What was going on?
Mike couldn’t have been traded; the deadline had passed. Was there some loophole? Traded players often sat out to make sure they didn’t get injured. They were normally at the games, though, watching from a box.
So was he hurt? And if so, how badly? Would he be able to play again this season? If the team was going to be in Turchenko’s hands, their playoffs were over already, in Bridget’s opinion.
She’d canceled the second swim practice to be able to attend this important game. She drove over to Mike’s hotel, left the car with the valet, and waited impatiently for the elevator. She jabbed the button to Mike’s floor repeatedly, trying in vain to speed up the elevator. She swiped the key card, and opened the door. The suite was dark. She started to feel for the switch when she heard Mike’s voice. “Leave the lights off, okay? I’m in the living room.”
It wasn’t the reunion she’d been dreaming of. The curtains were drawn, and the place was dark and quiet. Dim lighting was romantic, pitch black led to stubbed shins and bruises.
“Mike?” she asked. Why would he be in the dark?
“I’m here. On the couch.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“Not really. But I’m supposed to stay in the dark.”
She had a sinking feeling she knew what that meant. But she couldn’t say it. “What’s wrong?”
“Concussion, possibly.”
Bridget sank into the first chair she bumped into. “What happened?”
“I had my helmet off for a minute at practice. Got hit in the head by a puck.”
“Are you okay?” Most important question first.
“I’m fine. But concussion protocol is strict, so I have to take a couple days off. Can you come over here where I can at least touch you?”
Bridget smiled and felt her way over to the couch. She sat down by his head. He reached for her hand and gave it a kiss. Bridget felt herself unwind, letting her hand stay wrapped in his. He was okay, and she was finally feeling him in person, even if she couldn’t see him.
“Welcome home,” she said softly.
“Wish I could see you properly. I had planned this moment much better, but I’m not supposed to let myself get excited. This will have to do.”
“So you really feel okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ve had a concussion before and I know what it’s like, but head injuries are a big concern. So even though I told them I was good…” Bridget could hear the frustration in his voice.
“Who was the idiot who hit you in the head?”
Mike hesitated.
“Troy Green?”
She could hear Mike’s smile in his voice. “Yes. But he’s very sorry.”
“Did he do it on purpose?”
Mike laughed, reassuring her. “I really don’t think so. The whole team reacted in horror at the thought that I was out. The puck hit my head, I lost my balance, and I hit the ice. But it wasn’t going fast, and I know my head didn’t hit the ground. Still, here I am. They’re not taking chances.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this on the phone?”
“I had people here, fussing around. I didn’t want to get into it with you while there was an audience, and I didn’t need you to hunt down Green. But I wanted to talk to you privately anyway, so this will work.”
Bridget was suspicious. “What do you want to talk about?”
Mike said, “Come closer.”
He edged over on the couch and pulled her down beside him. “That’s better.”
Bridget was tense for a moment, then began to relax. He wasn’t going to break up with her like this.
“What were you so tense about?”
“No good ever comes after ‘We need to talk.’”
She felt the chuckle rumbling in his chest. “That’s not exactly what I said.”
“Close enough. So what do you want to talk about?”
“First, tell me about this idiot who answered your phone.”
Bridget snorted. “Connor.”
“Yes, Connor with the Olympic medal. I have two,” Mike responded.
Bridget twisted to try to see his face. “Are you jealous?”
“Why did he have your phone?”
“He took it from me. There was a whole crowd of people—it was after the last dinner. Your ringtone came in, so I knew the game was over. I grabbed my phone—”
“What’s my ring?” he asked.
“Hockey Night in Canada.”
Bridget felt his chuckle again.
“So you grabbed your phone…”
“And Connor grabbed it from me, and the rest you know.”
“Why did he grab your phone?”
“Who knows? He’s an idiot.”
“Did you two go out?”
Bridget sat up. “A couple of times. No biggie. You are jealous.”
“I don’t know much about your past, Bridget.”
“You don’t need to be jealous of Connor.”
“No? What happened?”
Bridget frowned. “We went out a couple of times. The last time, we went to an arcade, and I beat him in air hockey. He didn’t take it well, and the next day he asked out someone else. That was it.”
“You beat him at air hockey and he couldn’t take it?”
“Seems so.”
“Hard to believe.”
“That his ego was that fragile?” she questioned.
“That he couldn’t beat you at air hockey,” Mike teased.
Bridget jabbed him in the ribs.
“Careful, I might have a concussion.”
“You’re lucky I don’t give you one after that. Of course I beat him at air hockey.”
“So I don’t have anything to worry about?”
Bridget snuggled back down with him. “Not a thing.”
He wrapped an arm around her, and Bridget felt she was perfectly happy. It was hard for her to grasp that he might feel just as lucky.
“Oh, another thing happened,” she said. This she’d wanted to tell him in person, but she’d been picturing seeing his face while she talked to him.
“Anything to do with Conner?”
“Nope. I met Jonesy.” She paused to let that sink in.
“Is this supposed to mean something to me?” Mike asked after a pause.
Bridget sighed. “I guess not. Jonesy is probably the top swim coach in Canada. He’s from Australia, and they managed to lure him to Canada about five years ago. He and my coach, the one I worked with before I joined the club—” Bridget felt Mike nod behind her and she continued “—they’ve been friends for a while. Well, my former coach was in Atlanta of course, and I bumped into him when he was with Jonesy, so he introduced me. The three of us went out for coffee, and had a really good talk. There’s so much to learn from them.” They’d also been very complimentary about her, but she didn’t want to brag.
When Mike still didn’t seem to realize what a big deal this was, she continued. “It was a sign that I’m making it. It would be the same as you having a get-together with—” Bridget thought, and then rattled off the names of some hall of famers.
“They’re nice guys. Just don’t get Patty angry.”
She sighed. Of course Mike had already met his idols. He probably had their personal cell phone numbers in his contacts. It reminded her of the gap between his accomplishments and hers. She wasn’t done, though. One day she’d be at the top in her field.
“Should I be warning Jonesy not to get you angry?” he teased, tugging on a lock of her hair.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bridget replied. “I don’t have a temper.” Deciding to change the topic before he challenged her on that, she asked, “What did you want to talk about?”
Bridget could feel his body tensing, just as hers had. This couldn’t be good.
“I’d forgotten about a commitment I made, back before Christmas. It’s a team thing.”
Bridget knew he had a lot of team commitments, but he didn’t discuss them all with her. She waited to hear why they were talking about this one.
“It’s kind of a silly event, but it’s for Sick Kids Hospital, so we agreed to it.”
Bridget kept quiet.
“Certain members of the team are going to be in a kind of, well, fashion show.”
Bridget chuckled.
“I hope I get to see pictures.”
“I’m sure you will. But we aren’t just walking out there on our own. We’re each teamed up with someone.”
Bridget sensed this was going to be the kicker.
“Some of the guys are walking with their wives or girlfriends,” Mike said, and then paused.
She froze. He couldn’t possibly want her to… But no, he’d said this had come up months ago. Who was walking with him?
“Since I didn’t have anyone then, I’m paired up with a model from the designer who’s rigging me out.”
Bridget was still.
“Bridget?”
“So you’re like, on a date with her for the evening?”
Mike sighed. “No, it’s not a date. The only thing we do together is walk down a runway. I did ask if I could get out of it, but apparently, they’ve been working with the measurements they have for Appollonia and me, and it’s too late to change. I’m supposed to go for final fittings this week.”
“Appollonia?”
“She’s the model.”
Of course she is. “You’re going for fittings this week? When is this event?”
“Saturday. When you’re in Winnipeg for Nationals. I’d rather be there with you, but I can’t.”
Bridget lay still. Her thoughts were chaotic. This is what it was like to date someone like Mike.
Mike wrapped her a little closer to him. “Bridget, I’m sorry. I wish I hadn’t forgotten, but I did. I wanted to tell you in person. It’s probably going to be covered by the press, and I didn’t want you to come across the pictures without warning. But it’s just a publicity thing—I’ve hardly met this woman.”
Bridget nodded. It wasn’t Mike’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. But still, it made her feel insecure.
“You ready for the next thing?” Mike asked.
“There’s more?” Bridget asked, heart sinking.
“There’s another team event, a dinner. They dreamed up this one after we clinched a playoff spot. It’s another fund-raiser. There’s going to be a player at each table. People buy tickets, silent auction, all that stuff. Each player is supposed to have a plus one. I hope you can be mine.”
Bridget gave herself a mental hug. He wanted her to be his plus one. Her grin faded. Wait, could she?
“If I can’t?” Might as well know the worst up front.
“I’m supposed to show up with someone. If my mother was closer, and her husband wasn’t bedridden, I could bring her, and that would be fine. But…” He left it there.
“When is it?”
“A week from Saturday.”
Bridget did the math. A week from Saturday, the first weekend after Nationals. Was that the swimming awards?
“I’ll have to check and get back to you.”
“I’m sorry to dump all this on you. This wasn’t what I’d hoped for when we could finally spend some time together again. It’s part of the baggage that comes along with my job.”
For a moment, Bridget wished he was a plumber.
Mike had said he was sure he didn’t have a concussion, but he still followed doctor’s orders. They got room service and ate by candlelight, then listened to the game on the radio, snuggled on the couch. It could have been very romantic. Unfortunately, the game was a disaster.
The loss couldn’t just be blamed on Turchenko: the whole team fell apart. It was as if losing Mike meant they’d lost their ability to follow the game plan. It didn’t help that the announcers were speculating that Mike wasn’t on the ice because he couldn’t face his former team. Bridget would have yelled and thrown something if it weren’t for Mike’s possible head injury. Mike just grew more and more quiet. She imagined all that tension and anger being channeled inside and then coming out on the ice: that was Mike’s way. Just as well he didn’t play a position where he was checking other players. He might knock them through the glass.
The after-game radio show was more of the same. To change the subject, Bridget asked Mike when he was going to start driving the McLaren.
“Hmm?” he said, still focused on the radio commentators.
“It’s your summer car. You should get it out soon, right? I mean, this is March, so technically spring is practically here,” she said oh-so-innocently.
It took a moment, but the gears began to turn in Mike’s brain.
“No.”
Bridget rolled her eyes. “No, you’re not getting it out soon?”
He smiled, his teeth glinting in the candlelight. “No, you’re not driving it.”
“You’re not playing fair, you know,” she argued. “We have a bet, and I never get a chance to win it.”
“I guess I should apologize for spending all my time in net playing for your hockey team then, instead of with you?”
“Can I at least get a ride in it?”
“I’ll take that under consideration. Will you promise not to steal the car if we stop somewhere?”
“There’s a bet on the table. I’ll wait for that,” she said, with more confidence than she felt.
Mike leaned over and kissed her, a light brush of the lips that still sent her pulse racing. “Thanks. You’d better get out of here now. It’s late.”
* * *
SHE MET UP with Jee for one of their usual get-togethers. First they had to discuss how things were going with Jee’s pregnancy. She was finally over morning sickness, well into her second trimester, and thought she was starting to show.
Bridget was thrilled for her friend and her brother, but it wasn’t unalloyed happiness. Lately it seemed that her emotions were getting much more complicated and confused. Jee had been her friend since they were kids. Things had changed a little when she married Brian, but they’d still kept their friendship intact. But this, having a baby, as much as she was happy for Jee, would change things a lot. Jee wouldn’t have the same free time, and she’d have different priorities. Bridget had seen it happen with the other sisters-in-law. Was Bridget going to have her turn? That hadn’t been something she’d thought about before. Did her focus on swimming mean she was missing other big things? And would starting to think this way when she and Mike had just started dating mess that up as well?
She told Jee about the fashion show event, and the charity event that she’d promised to get back to Mike about. She wanted another opinion. She was second-guessing herself now, and she wasn’t used to that.
“Saturday. But that’s the swimming awards,” said Jee.
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell him you couldn’t go?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Bridget answered.
“Are you worried about who he might take as his date? Are you jealous?”
Bridget creased her brow. “To be honest, I think that’s part of it. But that’s not the whole thing. If he was going with, I don’t know, his great aunt, I think I’d still feel left out. He’s been here with the family, but I’ve never really had a chance to see what his world is like. And sometimes it seems like we can never find time to be together. Plus, hockey is Mike’s biggest thing.”
Jee nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
“I think it’s starting to sink in that hockey isn’t just games and practices and training. It’s dealing with fans, and doing charity events and being recognized where ever you go.”
Jee looked troubled. “Wasn’t your swimming like that, a bit?”
Bridget shook her head. “Not to the same degree. Nowhere close. And if this is all part of Mike’s life, and I want to be part of that life, too, I’d better figure out if I can get used to it.”
Jee looked surprised. “So, what are you going to do?”
Bridget shrugged. “I could do a compromise. They give out the awards in the afternoon, and it’s just the banquet in the evening. The younger swimmers and their families don’t even go to that. So if I’m there in the afternoon, I could go to Mike’s thing in the evening. Everyone compromises a little in a relationship, right?”
Jee looked at her seriously. “Well, there’s compromise like blow-drying your hair in the bedroom so he can have the bathroom, and you know, watching TV shows on the PVR if he wants to watch hockey. But there are some things that are too big to compromise.”
Bridget sighed. “I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
* * *
MIKE WAS CLEARED for any concussion the next day, but it was too late to join the team in Quebec. Bridget came back home from swim practice to find Mike’s Land Rover parked on the street, but he wasn’t waiting at her door. He was upstairs with the family, watching another ugly loss. Bridget sat down on the couch beside Mike. He wrapped his arm around her, and she curled into him, enjoying the feel of his strength, and telling herself that compromise was essential. She’d go to this dinner thing and find out if she could fit in. If she couldn’t? For now, she pushed that thought aside.
The next game was at home, and Mike played with his disheartened team. There’d been a lot of unfriendly press about Mike the past week. Bridget had yelled at the radio a few times, but Mike had been cool, calm and completely unrevealing in interviews. During the game, though, that anger was channeled into his play. Bridget was there, and she could see that now. No one was going to score. Not tonight. After a couple of spectacular saves by Mike in the first period, the team started to regroup. They stopped playing fearfully and by the time the horn sounded at the end of the third period, Mike had a win—and a shutout.
Bridget met Mike after the game at what was becoming their usual bar. She saw some other players at a table, but she and Mike were left alone. Just as well for Troy Green. If he came over again, she’d do more than verbally abuse him.
Bridget grinned at him. “You know it, but it was an incredible game.”
Mike smiled briefly. “I needed to show that I was back.”
“It’s obvious,” Bridget said. “You’re leading this team, whether they realize it or not. Is it helping in the locker room?”
Mike shook his head. “Not really. They all knew why I missed the games against Quebec, but still, they don’t know if they can trust me when it gets down to the playoffs.”
Bridget huffed. “And they won’t play well unless they know they can trust you.”
Mike reached over and grabbed her hand. “Yes, but that’s for the coaches to work on. You’ve got your own coaching to deal with this weekend. How’s that going?”
“Pretty good. My A-team is looking strong. Today we had just the morning practice, light workout, and tomorrow we head for Winnipeg. Then we’ll see.”
“I’m going to miss you.”
“You’d better.” Bridget didn’t mention Appollonia, but she was thinking about her.
* * *
THE BUZZER WENT, and the results were posted. Bridget leaped into the air, and then ran to hug Annabelle, wet as the girl was. Her star was shaking, overwrought. This had been her final race. She’d had a false start, so she was hesitant off the blocks, but she made up for it in the stretch and came in a close second. Annabelle hadn’t been expected to be one of the final eight, so this was incredible.
Austin had come in fourth in his race, so the club was well represented and had done far beyond expectations. Bridget was thrilled with both of them, and their families were ecstatic. It was a great evening for all. Bridget sent texts to her family, and to Mike. The O’Reillys were all congratulatory. But Mike didn’t respond.
Bridget kept checking her phone, bothered by Mike’s silence—and by her own worry. She finally muted the phone, and went out for a celebration with her A-team and their families. Jonesy came by their group and added his congratulations. It was almost a perfect night.
No, not almost. She knew, absolutely, that she was doing the right thing.
She told the swimmers to take a week off, celebrate, relax and enjoy, and then they would get back into a summer training schedule: less intense, but keeping them in shape for fall, when the regular season would begin again. They would all feel greater expectations for the upcoming season, but that was months away. Now was the time to enjoy what they’d accomplished.
She fell asleep soon after returning to her hotel room, refusing to check her phone again. So it was the following morning when she found congratulations from Mike. Apparently, he hadn’t been able to keep his phone in the pocket of the outfit he wore for the show. Bridget gave herself a stern talking to. She either trusted Mike, or she needed to get out of this relationship. In theory, she did trust him, but in practice it was tough. She had all the confidence in the world when it came to doing things for herself but found it so much more difficult to depend on someone else.
The team landed in Toronto the next day, met at the airport by thrilled family members. Mike couldn’t make it, but Jee and Karen had come waving congratulation signs that had clearly come from the graduation section of the dollar store. Some of the other members of her team who hadn’t made it to Nationals had come with their parents to cheer their team members. Parents of her swimmers hugged and congratulated her. It was great. She’d taken a big step toward her dream.
* * *
MIKE PICKED HER up on Saturday for the charity dinner. He knew she was nervous about it, but he was pleased she was coming with him. These things could be dull, and Bridget was good at adding life to any event. He also hoped that she’d see dinners like this didn’t have to be daunting. That way she wouldn’t find going to events too strenuous. He had hardly noticed that he was starting to think long-term with Bridget, but somehow, she was there when he looked ahead.
She was wearing the same dress as from their first “real” date, and she looked just as beautiful in it. She normally wore casual clothing, but she cleaned up much better than she realized. He was proud to be taking her with him. He loved watching her, especially the vivid hair, since it could often reflect her mood. He saw the glasses as part of her now, just like the freckles. It all came together in the fascinating package that was Bridget.
He’d thought of a way to help overcome some of her nerves. After going to her door to pick her up, he led her out into the street, where his McLaren was waiting. She actually stopped in her tracks, and turned to look at him with wide eyes.
“I’m driving,” he teased.
She let that pass. He held the door for her to get in the car. She paused, and sat carefully, as if afraid to mar the interior. When he got in the driver’s side she was staring at the instrument panel. For the first couple of blocks she was quiet, eyes closed, listening to the sound of the engine, but then she started asking questions. They’d arrived at the event before she’d satisfied her curiosity. Once he’d given the keys to the valet and come around to escort her in, he could see the tension returning. She gripped his arm tightly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “If Troy Green can do this…”
He could see her straightening up. He should have thought of this sooner. Make it a challenge, and she’d take it. Her chin lifted, her eyes got back their sparkle and even her hair perked up.
Mike knew the team people: players, coaches, management and administrators. Throughout the course of the year he’d been introduced to some of the non-Blaze people in attendance, too. As they wandered around the vestibule, holding on to glasses of cheap champagne passed out by the wait staff, he did his best to help Bridget, introducing her by her swimming credentials and whispering snippets of information into her ear when he could be heard over the string quartet playing in the corner. They avoided Troy and Turchenko. People wanted to talk to Mike, but he kept the conversation light and his arm around Bridget’s waist so she wasn’t left alone. He didn’t want anything to spoil the night.
It was better when they went through to the dining room and were seated for dinner, as Bridget only needed to remember the names of the people at their table. She was quiet, but he didn’t think too quiet. At these kinds of affairs he knew he was the center of attention. He followed a familiar script, appearing candid without saying much. He’d learned the trick of this long ago.
After the meal and speeches, and the applause for the funds raised, he was beckoned across the room by the general manager. He turned to Bridget, who smiled at him.
“Go ahead. I’m fine. After all, if Troy Green can do it…”
He relaxed. “I’ll make it as quick as I can, then we can get out of here.”
* * *
HE DID CUT it as short as he could. As a rule, these things didn’t run too long; at least, not for the players. Athletes who wanted to maintain their peak abilities couldn’t party too late or too often during the season.
He noticed the team captain’s wife, Olivia Sandusky, at their table speaking with Bridget. She’d been very pleasant when he’d checked on dress code with her for the event. He’d wanted to make things as smooth as possible for Bridget. Still, he was a little uneasy. Would the group of players’ wives be welcoming? He hadn’t even considered that.
He observed Bridget carefully when he returned. She was still quiet but didn’t look upset. He suggested they head out, and she agreed. He noticed her glance at the car—part of him wanted to pass over the keys just to see her face. He didn’t. After all, they still had a bet in play, and he knew she wouldn’t appreciate being denied the privilege of triumphing over him. As well, he still remembered the afternoon she’d kidnapped him. It had been a good day, overall, but he hadn’t liked watching her fall for his car while ignoring him.
There were a few moments of silence while Mike headed out of the downtown core. Bridget had her head laid back, eyes closed. “Could we maybe just drive around for say, a week or so?”
“Even if I don’t let you drive?”
“Even. This car is wonderful.”
“That’s why I bought it. So, how did your chat with Olivia Sandusky go?” He kept his voice casual.
“Oh, she was very nice.” Mike glanced over and saw her grin. “Apparently Troy’s dates don’t get the welcome mat because they keep changing, but the wives consider me to be a little more…permanent.”
Mike felt something open in his chest. Permanent. Permanent sounded good. Was that what Bridget was thinking?
Apparently not. “I need to tell you something, Mike. I should have before. This afternoon was the swimming awards, and tonight was the banquet. I skipped the banquet to come to this dinner with you.”
Mike took a moment to process that. Swimming awards and banquet? This was something big in Bridget’s world. She and her team would probably have had a place in it. But she hadn’t shared it with him.
Mike pulled into an empty parking lot, and turned off the car.
Bridget waited for him to speak.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you would have told me to go to my banquet.”
Mike nodded. “Why did you not want that to happen?”
“I wanted to go with you tonight. Our schedules have been crazy, so I wanted to spend time with you, and I wanted to see if I could fit in. Maybe I wanted to make this more real by being more public? I didn’t analyze it too far, I just knew I wanted to be with you tonight.”
“You didn’t consider that I might have wanted to be at your event with you?”
Bridget’s head tilted. “I guess I didn’t. It seemed like a pretty small thing in comparison.”
“Did you get an award?”
“Yes, and the club and Annabelle did, too.”
“Then it wasn’t a small thing. I would never belittle your accomplishments just because mine might get more headlines.”
Bridget said “I appreciate that. But you’d already said you couldn’t get out of this thing tonight. And I thought there’d have to be some kind of compromise, so that’s what I did.”
“Compromise should work both ways. Did you get a trophy?”
He saw a happy smile flit across her face. “A plaque. It’ll go up at the club. I’m sure Wally will give it a prominent spot.”
Mike took a moment. He had told her he couldn’t get out of this, but if he’d known before the date was set, he could have done something. He didn’t like the idea of one-sided compromises.
“Okay, I have a plan. Give me your phone.”
Bridget dug into her bag and pulled out her phone. She unlocked it and passed it over.
Mike did what he had to do, then passed it back.
“I’ve shared my calendar with you. You put in your events, and I have mine, and we’ll do our best to make sure we have as few scheduling conflicts as possible, outside of games and swim meets, okay?”
Bridget smiled. Mike turned the key in the ignition and pulled out into traffic. The conversation left him unsettled. He was glad Bridget was trying to accommodate so that they could be together, and he’d been happy to have her with him tonight. He enjoyed it more with her than he would have with anyone else. But that assumption of compromise… He wasn’t sure he actually had made any significant compromises so far, and he wasn’t sure how much of that he was actually willing to do. He hadn’t in the past. The ghost of Amber was still hovering.
* * *
BRIDGET HADN’T TOLD Mike the details of her conversation with Olivia. The other woman had been very kind and welcoming, but the conversation had given Bridget reason to think, and she wanted to work out how she felt before she said anything to Mike.
Bridget had been surprised when Olivia had sat in Mike’s seat at the dinner after he’d gone to talk to the GM. She was blonde, attractive but not intimidating. She introduced herself, and Bridget had realized her husband was Darren Sandusky, captain of the Blaze team.
Apparently Olivia knew who Bridget was, and had come over because the WAGs—wives and girlfriends of the players—had been curious about her.
Bridget had raised her eyebrows.
“If we’d known Mike was involved with someone, we’d have been sure to come to see you to welcome you. Mike was single when he got here, though, so we didn’t realize. You’ve kept it quiet. We try to be very supportive, even if our husbands and boyfriends aren’t getting along.”
“That’s very kind of you. We haven’t been going out long. I’m pretty new to all of this.”
“I can imagine. Many of us have been with our guys since high school or the farm team days, so we came up the ranks with them. It must be a little overwhelming to be just dropped into this when you’re not used to it.”
Bridget had nodded. So far, her relationship with Mike had been private. Now that was going to change, and she didn’t know just how that would affect things between them.
“I just want you to feel free to let us know if there’s any way we can help you. It’s not always easy dating a professional athlete. We keep in touch with friends on other teams, so if Mike should move on…”
Bridget knew what she meant. As soon as the playoffs were over, Mike would be on the move, and that could be soon. Bridget had been avoiding that thought. Once his contract expired at the end of June, he would be a free agent. And there wasn’t much chance he’d be signing again with a Toronto team, considering their respective finances. Bridget had no idea where things were going after that.
“The WAGs can help you find places to stay, reliable movers, help with the paperwork involved…if you’re ever in a position to need something like that, we help each other.”
Bridget blinked. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “That’s very kind of you. Do you help find work as well?” she asked, mostly as a joke.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a swim coach.”
“So, you teach swimming lessons?” she asked, with brows creased.
Bridget had come across this response before. Swimming was a sport that only caught the public eye every four years, when the Olympics pulled everyone’s attention for a couple of weeks, so it was easy to overlook the constant time and commitment it took to excel. “Not exactly. I work with competitive swimmers—the kind who race, hoping to represent Canada internationally, and maybe even in the Olympics. I used to compete myself, and now I coach. A couple of my kids just placed well at Nationals in Winnipeg last weekend, so we’re getting there.” Bridget was still pretty pleased about that.
Olivia looked concerned. “Would that not be difficult? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interfere. I just imagine that’s a very limited field you work in, and it might not be easy to find openings when—if you moved around. But, then, if you ever plan on a family, you’d probably have to give that up.”
Bridget had been a little overwhelmed at how much this was projecting into a future she was unsure about. She appreciated the welcome Olivia was offering, and realized she had a lot to consider. However, a stranger making an assumption like this about Bridget’s potential, possible, maybe-but-let’s-not-jinx-it future? It made her sit up. “It’s not the 1950s anymore. Women are allowed to have a job and a family.”
Olivia looked at her sympathetically. “Hon, it might not be 1950, but we’re talking professional athletes here. It makes a difference. They get traded anytime. Just look at Mike. He had a no-trade clause, and what happened to him? When they get traded, they have to hop on a plane and go. Who’s going to pack up, get the kids out of school, sell the house and find a new one? He can’t do it. He’s committed to playing with the new team.” Seeing Bridget’s face, she continued. “I’m not trying to scare you, and I know you two haven’t been together that long, but that’s what’s involved when you’re with a pro. Take a good look at things before you commit. Have you got your phone with you? I’ll put in my number. If you need to talk to someone, I’ve got a good ear.”
Bridget passed over her phone. As she watched Olivia, she wondered why the woman had come to apparently warn her. It was kind, but was there some reason Bridget needed that message in particular?
“This is awfully nice of you. Does everyone get a welcome like this?”
Olivia laughed. “Not necessarily. Troy over there—” she nodded to the far side of the room where Troy’s arm was held by a blonde with cleavage threatening to spill from her low-cut neckline “—brings someone new to every event, so we haven’t pulled out the welcome wagon yet. Mike is different, but you know that.”
Bridget nodded. Mike was different, in many ways. They’d been having difficulties getting their schedules to sync up so they could spend time together, but that wasn’t going to be the only bridge to cross. Events like this, possible publicity. Olivia was right, Bridget needed to look at this seriously. The compromise she’d had to make tonight? That was just the beginning, and Bridget wasn’t sure where it would end.
* * *
TODAY, THOUGH, BRIDGET was in a good mood as she walked into the club. For the next few weeks she had nothing to stress over. She was ready to get to work on the lighter summer training season for her athletes.
She was later than usual entering the building, since there wouldn’t be morning practices for a while. But she had some paperwork to clear up and wanted to fine tune the training plan for the off season. There was also some new information on nutrition and performance she wanted to look into. She’d have to see what Wally would do with the award plaque. He wasn’t going to want to feature it, but it was a big deal. She was so absorbed in her thoughts as she made her way down the hallway that it wasn’t until the door to the pool resisted her push that she noticed the sign. “Closed till further notice.”
Bridget frowned. What was this about? She would have been among the first to hear if there was a problem with the pool. Had someone fouled it last night? She pulled her phone out of her bag and checked for messages.
There was nothing from the club, but she did see an email from Annabelle’s mother asking about any other swim clubs Bridget would recommend for Annabelle to transfer to. Bridget had a bad feeling and knew exactly where to look for answers. She stalked down the hallway to Wally the Weasel’s office.
He wasn’t there, so she sat in a chair to wait for him. In the meantime, she started texting.
Monica, the instructor who ran the aqua aerobics classes during the day, responded first. She’d received an email from Wally a week previously that classes were suspended indefinitely. The pool was closed for structural maintenance.
Bridget’s temper smoldered as she read the email Monica forwarded. Wally had included everyone but her; that was obviously deliberate. And what was this with the pool and structural maintenance? Surely she would have heard if anyone was having problems with the pool? After the triumph at Nationals, Bridget was looking forward to building on that success. If the program was canceled for any length of time, Annabelle and Austin would switch to another club to keep their training going. She’d lose her best athletes, and swimmers of their caliber were rare. She’d be starting from scratch again.
By the time Wally showed up, Bridget was ready to ignite. More emails and texts had confirmed that Wally had closed the pool down for the duration, probably as soon as Bridget and her team left for Winnipeg. Monica was going to teach aerobics classes in the gym, but Bridget only coached swimming. There was nothing for her to do without a pool. The pool didn’t get a lot of use in the summer, since members left on vacation and spent time at clubs with outdoor sports, but the competitive swimming program didn’t take a break.
Wally was almost around his desk before he noticed Bridget sitting in one of the visitor chairs.
“Oh, Bridget.” He swallowed. “I didn’t see you there. I’m kind of busy…” His voice trailed off as Bridget stood up and closed the door firmly.
“So what’s going on, Wally?”
“The name is Walter—” He scurried behind his desk as he saw the look on Bridget’s face. He swallowed again. “You mean about the pool, I suppose.”
“Yes, you suppose right. I’m usually the first person using the pool any given day. Yet, again, you’ve failed to notify me about something important to my job.”
“Oh, dear, did you not get the email? Maybe your server?”
“Cut the crap, Wally,” Bridget answered. “Monica forwarded me the email you sent out. I wasn’t on the list. In fact, there were a couple of emails, all of them connected to the pool and this problem you’d detected, but I wasn’t on any of them. I’m the swim coach, and I was never asked about it, or told that there was an issue.”
“I’m not sure I like your attitude—”
Bridget stood up. “And I don’t like your crap. You’ve had it in for me ever since I started that swimming program. First, you spread lies about my personal life, and now you’re jeopardizing the entire swimming program here for some kind of petty revenge? What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t like these insinuations—”
Bridget’s voice was rising. She leaned over his desk, gripping the wooden edge to resist the temptation to grab him around his weaselly neck. “Don’t you care that the two most promising swimmers we have are probably going to leave? What if their families leave as well? Is getting back at me worth it? I suppose you didn’t know that the Thorpes were talking to me about their granddaughter joining the program. You know the Thorpes, original member family, rich, the kind you toady up to, you sniveling little—”
Bridget’s diatribe came to an abrupt halt, not because she’d run out of words but because a pair of arms had suddenly wrapped themselves around her waist. Neither she nor Wally had noticed the door opening behind them.
“Mike Reimer!” Wally said sneeringly. “Now we have the happy couple.”
“Mike! What are you doing here?” asked Bridget.
“I got your text and thought I might be needed,” Mike responded.
“Is this what you’re upset about, Wally? Because I said no to you but yes to someone else? Is there even a problem with the pool?” Bridget asked.
Wally looked offended. “There certainly was a problem. And summer is when the pool gets the least usage. I’m merely looking out for…” He trailed off as he saw the look Bridget was giving him.
Mike spoke over her shoulder.
“I don’t know how much influence I still have here, but I’ll certainly let people know that the manager of the club didn’t communicate with his staff about major events that impact their programs. I think I’d also want to ask about the timing of this repair work.”
Wally’s mouth dropped open.
“I wouldn’t want Bridget to have an assault charge on her record, since she works with kids, so I’ll take her with me now, but remember, that doesn’t necessarily apply to hockey players. And, in case you didn’t know, she has five older brothers.”
With that he swung Bridget around and gave her a little push out the door.
* * *
BRIDGET WAS ALMOST shaking with anger as they walked down the hallway and out the door. When she would have continued to her car, Mike steered her to his Land Rover.
“I don’t think you’re good to drive right now.”
Mike was surprised when she let that pass, but she was still focused on Wally and the pool situation. They’d gone a few blocks before she asked where they were going.
“I’m taking you home.”
“I need my car!”
“We’ll come back for it.”
Other than that, Bridget was quiet, but her expression was stormy. When they got to the O’Reillys, she didn’t react when he turned off the vehicle.
Mike gave her a moment.
“You’ve got the keys to the garage, right?”
Bridget came out of the dark place she’d been in and asked, “What do you want from the garage?”
“I’m not going to let you take shots at me without some kind of protection,” he answered.
She stared at him, then marched to the garage.
Mike dragged the net down into position, adjusted his stick, and let her start.
For the first ten minutes, Bridget shot without much precision or planning, but with a lot of force. The sound of the ball hitting Mike’s pads or gloves echoed in the morning air. Gradually the anger worked through, and he could tell when she started thinking, could almost pinpoint the moment when she remembered their bet about the McLaren. He had to work a lot harder after that.
It took almost an hour, but Bridget finally stood, and pushed her face guard up. She was flushed, and breathing heavily, but the glare was gone from her eyes.
“Thanks,” she said.
Mike straightened up from his defensive stance and took off his helmet.
“Feel better now?”
“Yes. I’m still angry, but I probably won’t punch him now. Probably. Wait, shouldn’t you be at practice?”
“I took a personal day. I can do that once in a while.”
“Probably just as well that you did. I was so angry. I’m not sure what I might have said if you hadn’t shown up.”
“So what I overheard was the censored stuff?”
“I kept getting madder when I realized just what he’d done.” Bridget stopped, jaw clenched.
“Hungry?”
Bridget blinked at him.
“Let’s go grab a bite and talk about it.”
They packed up the hockey gear and went to a nearby diner, since Mrs. O’Reilly was helping at an event at the church and wasn’t around to offer food. Mike let Bridget vent, revealing more than she realized as she spoke about how this would affect her kids and her own prospects. The success of the last month had moved her career timeline up drastically, and this setback could derail things. She’d had strong hopes for Annabelle and Austin, but she couldn’t train them without a base, and the other swim clubs already had coaches. Their results at Nationals meant her A-team could transfer into good clubs, and by the time the pool was up and going again at the athletic club, there’d be little motivation for them to move back. And she wouldn’t try to hold them back just because she, Bridget, was grounded by Wally. That wouldn’t be right.
Mike became aware that he hadn’t appreciated how much this meant to Bridget, and how driven she was. He knew they shared a competitive drive, but hadn’t fully grasped that she was equally intent on her dream and her passion. Her two As might be difficult to replace, but Mike thought Bridget was just as singular. He wished he could help, but from what he’d gathered from a call this morning to his sponsor at the club, the pool work had started while the team was in Winnipeg, so he couldn’t get it reversed at this point. He also knew his influence was not that great. He’d hardly been at the club the past few months, and his contract with Toronto would be expiring soon. And who knew where he’d be then? His threat to Wally had nothing much to back it up.
So he listened, and agreed with her most insulting aspersions on Wally the Weasel, and thought of something that might distract her, and help him as well.
* * *
AFTER THAT TALK, Mike asked for a meeting with management and the coach. They agreed to his request, but he noticed the wariness on the faces of the men in the room. He didn’t have his agent with him, and he told them from the start that this wasn’t about his future.
The atmosphere relaxed. Right now, no one was sure what to do with Mike. He was playing as well as he ever had, but what would happen once the playoffs started? Mike was determined that if he asked for another meeting they’d be the ones looking to negotiate, but he had something else in mind.
“I don’t want to sound arrogant, but right now, our playoff hopes rise and fall with me. Agreed?”
There was a murmur, but for the most part, assent. If Mike couldn’t play his best, the team wasn’t strong enough to compensate.
“The big question is whether I can still perform. Last year I failed. No question. So this year, I’m asking for a favor, one that will help me play better.”
Wariness again. Mike laid it out for them. His coach looked skeptical, but management was fine with his request. For them, there was little cost, and if they could get Mike to take the team further into the playoffs, there was a lot of revenue to be made.
* * *
BRIDGET MET MIKE after the last game of the regular season. Mike hadn’t played. Most of the starters had been rested. This game wouldn’t affect the playoff positions, so there was no need to risk an injury. Mike met her at the arena and took her to a smaller bar, but he was still greeted by a lot of people. Most were asking for reassurance about the playoffs. The mood in the city was cautiously optimistic. They’d been here last year, and it hadn’t gone well. But the team was playing better, especially the goalie. Mike did his public relations bit with the fans they encountered, and said things looked to be going well, but he knew, and they knew, that it all came down to what happened on the ice next week.
They finally found a seat in a booth, and after a few minutes, had a chance to talk.
“Pressure is ramping up, eh?” said Bridget.
Mike could see that she had to force the smile. She’d reached out to people she knew, both here in Toronto, and anywhere else she had connections, but there was nothing to be done as far as coaching went. No one was looking for a swim coach at Bridget’s level of competition. She was under contract at the club until the end of the summer, but there was nothing for her to do. The pool might reopen in a month or two, but her A-team had found new clubs to train with. Annabelle had been able to get a place in the club Bridget claimed was the best in the city, maybe in the country, with Jonesy, the coach she’d met in Atlanta. It was a compliment to Bridget’s coaching that the girl was accepted there. Mike appreciated that while she was proud of her athlete, it was hard to let her go.
Her comment gave him an opening for his idea. It would help him, and by helping him help the Blaze as a whole. And he hoped it would help Bridget, too. It would give her a distraction, and maybe a sense of purpose that was missing at the moment.
“Yes, pressure is definitely on,” he agreed.
“If I can help…” she offered, trailing off.
“Actually, you can. It’s a lot to ask though.”
He’d gotten her attention. Now, he just had to sell this right.
“Hey, if I can help, I’m only too happy to do anything I can.” She’d perked up a bit.
He reached across the table and held her hand. She curled her fingers around his and waited.
“Did I ever tell you what it was like to play my first playoffs in Quebec?”
She tilted her head. “You told me some of it.”
“When I was called up, management asked very delicately if I thought I was up to it. It was just after Amber died, and they weren’t sure how I was going to cope. I wasn’t either, but the chance to be busy, not to sit around blaming myself—I told them working would be good therapy.”
Bridget nodded.
“So there I was, finally in the big leagues. I was supposed to be a bench warmer. They needed a second goalie and someone to take shots in practice when the starter was resting. But their backup struggled, and when they finally, in desperation, put me in, there were no expectations whatsoever. Quebec was an expansion team, so making the playoffs was a pleasant surprise. But I knew if I could manage not to embarrass myself, maybe the next year I’d have a shot.
“So, little pressure, lots of support. I had an outlet for my anger and guilt, and things went better than anyone had imagined. And from then on, I was golden. No one was more popular in Quebec than I was. And I kept doing well. The team was with me, the city was with me…up until the coach retired.”
Bridget was paying close attention. He could see it in her eyes. She knew what had happened after that, and how things had gone downhill.
“So, as you and the hockey world all know, the playoffs here were different. I didn’t play well after the trade last year, and there was some doubt about how I’d do in the playoffs against Quebec. While we were preparing for the series, I don’t think I’d ever felt more isolated. And things did not go well.”
He paused, remembering. His memories were bleak. He felt her fingers tightening around his, giving him unspoken support.
“So, like the saying goes, it’s déjà vu all over again. I’m playing well now, and I think I can keep that up, but every time someone looks at me, talks to me, they wonder. They’re wondering in the locker room, they’re wondering in the press boxes, they’re wondering in the owner’s box. I’m wondering, too.”
“Mike, you’re not in the same place as last year. You’re going to be great,” Bridget reassured him.
Mike looked at her intently, her eyes enlarged behind the big frames. Having her here was helping him stay calm, stay the Iceman. He hoped she would agree to this plan.
“Right now, everyone wants to be sure I’m as fine as I can be. Anything I want, they’ll do. And there’s one thing I think will help.
“I still am not part of this team, not like I was in Quebec. I’m not part of this city. So I don’t have someone to unwind with, someone to spend downtime with, someone to talk to, especially on the road. I’m second-guessing everything I say to the team because I don’t want to scare them. I could use someone I can truly relax with.
“I’d like you to come with me. Be that person for me.”
He could see her eyes going wide. She hadn’t been expecting this.
“I’ve talked to management. They’re on board for anything I want. I want you. And I thought maybe this would work for you, too, a distraction. And it might prolong the time Wally has left to breathe on this planet.”
He watched the expressions flash across her face. “What exactly are you asking?”
“To be with me through the playoffs. I can’t get you on the team jet for away games. But we’ll fly you to each city, and you’ll have a room at the hotel while we’re there. You’ll have a ticket to the game, get to come to practice, and you and I will hang out. For home games, you come to practice, and you’ll have a couple of tickets to each game. I just want you to spend time with me. When I’m not playing or practicing or doing press things, I don’t want to be sitting in a hotel room getting up in my head. I want company. But not just anyone. I’d like someone who understands, and someone I like to spend time with.”
He paused. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Bridget wasn’t often speechless. He took a breath. He needed to lay it all out there before she decided.
“A downside might be the publicity. But if we get swept in the first round, it will be a pretty short postseason.”
She frowned. Mike could almost see the wheels turning in her head.
“I don’t want you to answer right away. I’d like you to think about it. Let me know when you decide, and we’ll go from there. I can at least get you tickets to home games no matter what.”
He didn’t press her further. He knew this would be good for him, but she had to choose if it was right for her. Playoff pressure was going to be tougher here in Toronto than any other place he could think of, so having someone on his side would be terrific. But she had her own career and she might need to focus on that. Here was that choice again: hockey versus something else. Selfishly, he hoped she’d choose hockey.
* * *
BRIDGET SAT ON her couch with her laptop, but it was hard to be motivated to research and plan when she had no one to coach. She had nothing to do but think, and her thinking wasn’t always productive. Short-term, there was Mike’s proposition to consider. Long-term, there was what Olivia Sandusky had talked about.
She opened the browser to the playoff schedule and rubbed her forehead.
She and Mike had started dating, knowing that the end game was up in the air. She hadn’t been worried at first. She could admit, at least to herself, that she’d fallen in love with Mike and had wanted to spend as much time with him as she could. Now that they were past the trade deadline, she knew Mike was in the city until the Blaze were out of the playoffs and had cleaned out their lockers for the season. That might be in a week and a half, or theoretically, it could be in June, if they went to the Cup finals. Mike’s contract expired June 30. And there was very little chance he’d be in Toronto after that.
She looked up the page with the salaries of the players. Mike was in the top grouping. Unless he totally failed, that’s the kind of salary he’d be looking at again. She couldn’t wish any setback for him. She found the committed salaries for the following seasons for the Toronto teams. They couldn’t afford Mike-money if they wanted a competitive roster. Not much chance Mike would be here next year.
And what about her? She wasn’t sure where her career was going. After her blowup with Wally the Weasel, she didn’t know if she’d even be able to keep her job at the club. They had no reason to get rid of her, based on the results she’d given them, but Wally was pretty weaselly. He’d already shown the lengths to which he’d go. He certainly wasn’t going to provide a good reference.
She looked up the club website. The pool was still closed indefinitely. Wally had had to post a piece about how well the competitive swim team had done, but there was very little about the program for next year.
She set the laptop aside. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to return there, which meant she’d be back to square one. She needed more time to decide if she was ready to face that again.
If she were to start at someplace new…well, what were the chances that it would be in the same city, or even the same country as Mike? Pretty well nil unless they planned for it. Together. Assuming he wanted to do that.
She stood up, and started pacing. She couldn’t ask him to give up his hockey dreams. His wife had. She remembered the pain in his voice when he’d talked about her that first time. She couldn’t put him through something like that again. Hockey was too essential to him. It was who he was. Last year, when he’d had to consider life without hockey, he’d been lost.
Swimming was important to her, but she had more in her life if it all went away. For him, hockey was everything. His mother was in Phoenix. He had no other family, no real friends in Toronto. He talked about the Sawatzky family, but only in the past tense. Hockey was his family, his financial success, his sense of worth and value. Hockey was Mike. No wonder he wouldn’t deny it, even for his wife. Bridget wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about her. They hadn’t been together that long, and she knew she couldn’t compete with the sport he lived for.
So what did that mean for her, and for them as a couple?
She would never have asked him to sacrifice his hockey in any case; she was an athlete, and she respected what that meant too much to ever consider making such a demand. But because she was an athlete, she had her own drive and her own goals. What would happen when they conflicted with his?
Really, it should be a no-brainer. Assuming Mike wanted to keep this relationship going, he had a career that was established and made big money; she could ride on his coattails, and maybe keep coaching wherever he ended up. Work enough to keep her from being bored, but not enough to impede his career. Could she settle for that?
She dropped back down on the sofa. And what if they got really serious, got married and had kids? Her stomach knotted. She knew the demands kids made, and even if they had paid help, someone had to be the person who took the sick days, went on school outings, took care of business when Mike was busy playing. Two parents with jobs that entailed a lot of travel, with strange hours and lots of pressure? That was a recipe for disaster.
She didn’t think Mike would ask her to end her career for him, but if they were going to have a real chance, one of them was going to have to make that sacrifice. And how could that not have a negative effect on their relationship?
Maybe it was fate that she didn’t really have a job right now. Maybe the choice was made for her.
She’d say yes. She’d do the playoffs with him, however long that might be. Try out life as a hockey girlfriend, full-time. See what it was like. Maybe it would be better than trying to start coaching from scratch. Maybe. She pictured those silver-gray eyes looking at her, confiding in her, teasing her…maybe she could do this. She’d never considered it before, but maybe for Mike she could. Call it compromise. How much was she willing to give up?