Smokeshow: A Hockey Love story Read online

  When a big lunk flops down beside me, I nearly snarl, then realize it’s my team captain. Also, snarling is not very Zen, either. My yoga teacher would be disappointed in me. I pull out a pod. “’Sup, Evan?”

  “Hey man, how’s it going?”

  I stare at him, unblinking. “Are you really just asking how things are going?”

  He lifts his chin at my book. “Converting to Buddhism?”

  “Converting would require some level of spirituality to begin with,” I explain. “I have none, so I’m really just learning.”

  “That’s…well…it’s bloody surprising, frankly. But hey, I wanted to catch you for a minute before things get loud. You doing okay out there?”

  “On the ice?” I ask, confused by his question. “I mean, yeah. I’m fine. Playing textbook defense lately. Laser focus and all that.”

  “I can see you’re playing with focus, and I appreciate that, but I can’t help but notice that you’re not playing with any heart. You’re there but you’re not, you know what I mean? Normally you’re up everyone’s ass, pushing, fighting and I haven’t seen that from you in weeks. What’s going on?”

  I give him a weird bark of a laugh and a shake of the head. “Ask your best friend what’s going on.”

  Evan’s eyebrows shoot up into his forehead. “Georg?” Then, realization dawns on him. “Oh. His sister.”

  I nod. “I mean, it’s not his fault, I guess. He’s just the enforcer.”

  “You really cared for her?”

  “Fuck.” I blow out a big breath. “I know it’s hard to believe but I did. I do. You said I’m not playin’ with heart? It’s probably because I got my heart ripped out when she was dragged back to Russia.”

  Evan’s lips push to one side, a crease forming between his eyes. “Interesting. Well, I’m sorry, man. It’s a shit break, but I can only advise that if something’s meant to be, it’ll be. Love manages to find a way, you know?”

  “I guess.”

  “We need you out there, Locksey. All of you.”

  “Got it, chief.” I put my AirPods back in, but he doesn’t leave. He looks off into the distance, then nudges me with his elbow. I pull out the pod again. “Yeah?”

  “I never saw myself falling in love. Not until I met Holly. She just…I don’t know. Knocked me on my arse, I guess. I had to try really fucking hard, you know? And she tried just as hard not to let it happen. But we found a way and I feel more like a man now, married with children, than I ever did when I was fucking my way through the city. So, I get how it can gut you when you find it.”

  I stare at him, blinking, trying to figure out what to say. Evan and I get along fine but we’re not buddies. We don’t talk like this. I open my mouth a couple of times and shut it again. Finally, I just settle for, “Thanks.”

  He nods, sits for a second, then stands up, heading back up to the front of the bus.

  I think I must read the same line in my book fourteen times by the time we pull up to the hotel. I check in, making sure I'm set up with an adjoining room for Patricia, who's flying in with the kids so they can watch the game.

  When they arrive, they’re like little tornados of kid energy, jumping on the bed, asking for room service, ordering me to take them to the pool. We head down in our bathing suits and flip-flops, big beach towels around our necks, the kids each holding one of my hands. And even though I feel so brokenhearted, I don’t think I would have survived the past month without these two. Their daily smiles and cuddles, which took a while to earn, their stories about new friends from school. Their bright presence in my otherwise solitary life. I look down at their little, trusting hands, and can see so much change in them. They look healthier, stronger, and as they chatter about their plane trip and the nice “hostesses”, I smile. I’ve set up a spa treatment for Patricia, who really is a fucking miracle of a human, so she’s got tonight off.

  Pam and Georg are at the pool when we get down there, jumping in to play an epic game of Marco Polo with me and the kids. Well, Haley has a go, mostly dogpaddling, since Ma never taught the kids to swim… surprise, surprise. Patricia’s been taking the kids to swimming lessons since she started, so Haley isn’t bad. Logan spends most of the time on my back in a monkey grip, meaning we didn’t go under the water. And even though things are awkward and uncomfortable between Georg and me, I’ve caught him smiling and laughing at Logan. The kid is cute.

  I want—badly—to ask about Zoya, but something about the way Georg carries himself around me makes me think it’s not a good idea. It makes me sick to my stomach, not knowing. Not being able to talk to her. Either way, I haven't heard from her since her lone text message on the last day that I saw her. She's like a princess locked away in a tower or something. And we've already established that I'm no Disney prince, so…yeah, the situation sucks severely.

  After the pool, we all go out for dinner and a movie, which I yawn all the way through. As we're walking out of the theater, Logan is conked out draped over my shoulder. Pam pulls me back when Georg takes Haley to play a couple of video games.

  “You okay, bud?”

  I lift a shoulder. “Tired. Haven’t been sleepin’ well.”

  “Because of the thing with Zoya?”

  “Ya think?" I immediately feel like a dick for my tone. She's just trying to be nice and I shouldn't be an asshole to a friend. "Sorry, Pam, I am complete and utter shit for company these days, but yeah, it's Zoya, but also my mom, too. She agreed to the rehab when she realized it was gonna be two years in jail otherwise, but she’s been calling at all hours, bitching me out, askin’ for cigarettes or money or whatever nonsense. She wants me to get a lawyer to get her out early. It’s a fuckin’ nightmare and I don’t really—” I stop talking and stare at her.

  “Zoya was right. You don’t really have anyone to talk to about it because… she’s not here.”

  “Wow. You're readin’ minds now, Pam.”

  “Yours is pretty easy to read. And I feel heartbroken for you, for what it’s worth.”

  “It’s not even just being heartbroken over not having the woman I love with me, you know? I feel…overwhelmed. Exhausted. This is a lot. And I know everyone says I’m doing this good thing for the kids and I’m tryin’ my best, but I’m just fuckin’ exhausted, you know?”

  Pam pulls me and Logan into an awkward hug. One arm hangs limp at my side as she holds me close, but I rest my chin on her shoulder. I’m beyond being comforted at this point. I feel empty and tired and I just wanna to sleep for a long fuckin' time.

  I try to explain, “I appreciate you, I do. I’m just—”

  “I get it, Tyler,” she says, pulling away. “How about Georg and I take the kids for breakfast in the morning? Give you some time to sleep in?”

  “That’d be awesome. Thanks.”

  * * *

  After winning game one in Austin, the team heads home to get ready for game two of the matchup. It’s frenetic, and even in my depressed state, I feel the love from our city. My city. Vegas has become home for me in just a few short years and it’s one of the only things keeping me afloat right now.

  We play a tight, hard game two at home, winning one-zero, barely holding Austin off as they try to make paybacks for stealing the Ice Dragon away. He’s a machine out there, battling for every shot on goal, managing to push one into the net for the win.

  Then we’re back on the road to Austin again, trying to sweep another round. Patricia stayed home with the kids, so I'm solo this trip. They only travel with me when the trip doesn't interfere with their school days. I'm serious about Haley and Logan having the structure of school and routine daily living. They've never had any normalcy before they came to live with me, so the least I can do for them is be consistent. Adhering to a schedule is not that difficult. You just have to commit to it.

  So, I’m in the hotel bar on our first night back in Austin, nursing a beer when Georg meanders up and plops down on the stool beside me.

  Unexpected choice of seating for him
, but whatever.

  He orders a seltzer water with lime and sits, twirling the straw between his fingers, not saying anything for the longest time.

  “You’re playing well,” he finally says.

  “You too.”

  A few more moments pass. “Okay, I'm just gonna say this and then I am done. Tyler, I feel like an enormous tool. I see how torn up you are, and we need to talk this out. I’m protective of my sisters, as you know. Probably because I knew how I was with women.” He laughs darkly. “I was a real fuck, you know?”

  “You’re still a fuck.”

  “Sometimes. I guess I am. But in this particular case, all I saw was my innocent baby sister half naked with a guy who I've witnessed—with my own eyes—fuck his way through countless bunnies over the last three seasons with the Crush, and saying he'll never be in a relationship.”

  “Fair enough. But in this particular case, all I saw was you flying off the fucking handle and breaking my nose before we could have an adult discussion about feelings.”

  “I’m sorry I broke your nose. And I’m sorry I couldn’t see it. Didn’t see it. I see it now, though. She loves you. You love her.”

  “I do love her. Though I don’t know what she feels right now because I can’t fuckin’ TALK to her,” I bite back at him, my volume far louder than it should be for being in a public bar.

  “I’ll see what I can do about that,” he says after my outburst.

  "Oooh. Gonna slip me her new number or something?"

  He shakes his head at me. "Look, Tyler, I want you both to be happy. I really do. I know we’ve never been friends or whatever, but it doesn’t mean I want you miserable and broken.”

  “Okay. Thanks, I guess?”

  “If it helps, Zoya still hasn't forgiven me for outing her to our father. She's making me pay hard for not having her back about her relationship with you. She calls me predatel' now…her betrayer.”

  I can't help the sense of satisfaction that comes with hearing this news. My head goes up and down a few times. “Sounds about right. She is a Zen master after all. Zoya always speaks true.” When he doesn't leave the bar, but keeps his ass planted on the stool, staring, I have to ask, “Something else on your mind, Georg?”

  Georg bites his upper lip. “There is. Something else, I mean. Pam and I both want to talk to you. Can we get a table?”

  I feel my brows furrow but nod, closing out my tab as we head to a table, Georg texting Pam to come down. She joins us and we order some appetizers, but I still have no clue why we’re sitting here. Frankly, I was happier looking into the bottom of my beer bottle.

  “Hey, Just want to say thanks for your help with Haley and Logan. Appreciate it. It’s hard, ya know? Livin’ far from their home. But, they’re happy here. I think. They really love you guys and talk about you all the time. Pretty sure Logan thinks Georg walks on water.”

  “Funny you should mention them,” Pam says. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about.”

  I raise an eyebrow in question.

  “We love Haley and Logan too,” she says. “We really connect with them. It’s weird, funny, how much, really.”

  “We never wanted kids,” Georg adds. “Since we got together, babies have never been anything we’ve been interested in. Partly because we both fear them, but I’ve also had doubts about whether I could be a good enough dad to raise up another human without screwing them up.”

  I make a meh noise. “You’re doing good. A helluva lot better than me. You’d make a fine dad, I think.”

  “Well…” Georg clears his throat.

  “We want to adopt Logan and Haley,” Pam blurts.

  I swear I nearly choke on my beer. “What?”

  “Well, we don’t know how it all works, of course. Maybe we foster them first? Then adopt? We just—we truly believe they’re great and well, we want them in our lives.”

  Thirty-One

  Zoya

  KIND OF PREGNANT?

  Three weeks later.

  Who would have guessed that I'd ever become a Crush junkie?

  It's true. I even watch the games.

  I've been streaming every single Crush playoff game online because I hope to see glimpses of Tyler. I pray for locker room interviews that feature him so I can hear his voice. I watch his old interviews on YouTube constantly. I still stalk his social media, but all his accounts went silent. Not a single new post on any of them. The games have been fun to watch, though I would never, ever admit it to my father. I thought Papa planned to stay in the US through the end of the season, but after everything that went down with Tyler, and after he put me on a plane back to Russia, he changed his mind and returned home with Irina as soon as her semester finished a few weeks later. Gratefully I was able to do finals and submit my final projects online. I got credit for all my units at UNLV, including STAT 152. The (A-) was a surprise. I won’t have to take it again, but even thinking about stats now just wrecks me. Because of Tyler.

  These have been the hardest seven weeks of my life.

  I know I love Tyler, but in this time of silence, of not knowing, of feeling as though part of me is missing…I’ve never known such a sense of loss. Irina has forgiven me, especially after finding me sobbing one night about a week after she came home. She couldn’t stay angry at me after that, and when she thought about it, she apologized to me, saying she’d been prideful and selfish to ask me to not sleep with him. That certainly helped, having my best friend—my sister—back again.

  It still breaks my heart seeing Tyler, though, and when the cameras get near enough to show his face up close, his eyes look dead. The fire I know he has, is missing, even though he plays well. Normally, I think he fights a lot, ends up in the penalty box often. Lately my Ty has played a strong defensive game, but even I can see he is playing with no emotion.

  The team is within reach of the Cup, heading into the finals, when my father calls us all together to FaceTime with Georg after game one. Mama, out at the shops, will be sorry she missed his call.

  “Pozdravlyayu!” Papa says as Georg’s face fills the screen. “Three more games and you are a champion again!”

  “The team is a champion,” Georg says, pushing a hand through his hair. “It’s been a bloody good season for us all.”

  “All except that mudak,” my father mutters.

  “Ah, well, that mudak is actually playing exceptional defense out there, as you well know, Papa. He is one of the best. You cannot deny. So it’s his championship, too,” Georg reminds him.

  They are talking about Tyler, of course. My father never met a grudge he could not keep for a century. I roll my eyes and grit my teeth. I would give anything to talk to Tyler, but my father continues to remind me how it will never happen under his watchful eye. I have to respect Papa's wishes for now, but once this season is over?

  Who knows...

  Maybe I take a summer trip to Las Vegas or maybe Tyler takes a summer trip to Saint Petersburg. Something will change soon; I can feel it. I don’t know how I know this, but I do.

  “Well, we actually called to share some other news,” Georg says. He pulls the phone away and Pam appears beside him.

  “Beremennaya?” Irina asks.

  “No,” Georg says. “But kind of?”

  “How can you be kind of pregnant? I ask, suddenly reengaged in the conversation.

  “We’re working with Tyler’s attorney and case worker in Boston to get custody of Haley and Logan,” Pam announces excitedly.

  Kirill Kolochev is speechless. Irina is speechless. I am the first to recover. “You're adopting them?”

  “Starting with fostering,” Pam says. “We’ll have to go through some legal hoops for a while to prove we're serious, but the end-game is adoption, yes.”

  “His mother will go along with this?”

  “She's in a long-term rehabilitation center now, but it’s not going well,” Pam explains. “It’s likely she’ll go back to jail in Boston. James and Winter Blakney, the couple we met
on our honeymoon at Fripp Island, are handling the case for us in Boston. You met them when you were all there with us. Anyway, James says there’s plenty of grounds to permanently restrict her access to them. And Winter feels like no judge would overlook an opportunity to put two neglected, abused kids into a better permanent home.”

  “Wow.” It takes me a minute to absorb her words. "I do remember James and Winter from Fripp Island. How wonderful you have experts to help you with this process. It's amazing. Really. And surprising, I guess? I thought you didn’t want to ever have children?”

  Georg gives an impish grin. “Well, technically, we didn’t have children.”

  “Be serious, predatel'.”

  “I am being serious. We didn’t have children, we found them. They found us. And while we certainly enjoy the act required to make babies, we do not actually want babies. But older kids? And these two…Haley and Logan? Well, we love them both very much. They fit with us, and we fit with them.”

  I nearly cry thinking about this news. “Tyler must be very relieved,” I say. “He was so worried about a long-term solution.”

  “He was shocked, to say the least, but he’s on board for sure. He can still be close by and part of their daily lives, but it takes the pressure off him, which is best for him and the kids. Relieved is a good word for it, I think,” Pam answers thoughtfully.

  “He’s still troubled, of course, about other things,” Georg adds.

  I frown, looking at my father, who still hasn’t said anything. Irina says, “Wow, congrats,” then nudges Papa.

  He makes a strange noise before saying, “I will be grandfather?”

  They all talk for a few minutes when my brother asks for a moment to talk with Papa alone. He walks off with the phone, shutting himself in his office. The conversation switches to Russian.

  About half an hour later, Papa emerges, red-faced.