I pump my legs faster to chase a white jersey down the ice. We hit the boards together and I push out my stick to nudge the puck away from him and the boards. Marco is right there with me and he helps me clear it. Unfortunately, it goes to the wrong player and Captain Hook has to go and earn himself a hooking penalty. There’s a reason Brayden was graced with that nickname.
“Fuckin’ hooker,” Marc grumbles.
No use in complaining. No harm, no foul. The most important thing is their power play unit sucks. We spend more time in their own zone than they do in ours. They’re able to regain control and lead us back across the ice. They put themselves into their formation, but it doesn’t do them a lot of good. A guy is about to pass the puck to his teammate, but he misses. It slides across the ice between who it was meant for and EJ. He reaches his stick out to snag it a second before he misses the opportunity.
He quickly skates down the ice for a breakaway, not wanting anyone to catch up and mess with his chance. He holds onto it until he deems it the perfect moment to rear his stick back and makes the most of his killer slap shot. It’s as if everyone in the arena holds their breath for one brief moment before it erupts at the sound of the horn. A “Let’s Go Rebels” chant quickly follows.
Tie game, baby.
Though we do our part to prevent the Minnesota team from scoring, they do the same to send us into overtime. This will be Meredith’s first time seeing a game go into overtime. That’s the random thought I have before Coach sends me onto the ice. He also puts Thing One and Thing Two out there with me. Collin and Cal Kessy are twin brothers. Their numbers happen to coincide with their nicknames.
Those two are ridiculously sick together. Watching them play together almost makes you want to sit back and watch. It’s almost always best to let them do their thing. They can read each other better than any other pairing in the league. They’re insane. They can somehow simultaneously come up with plays on the fly. Sometimes, all you can do is be nearby in case their plan ends up including you.
This time, it doesn’t. The young twins dominate the ice to forge a path around the opposing players, weaving in and out of the traffic around them, to crash the net. The goalie is waiting and appears ready. I’d hate to be him. You never know what kind of play the twins will make until they make it. Collin shoots, quickly passes his rebound to his brother, and his shot manages to squeeze between the goalie’s arm and chest.
Our fans go insane, and I’m pretty sure all of us are smiling. The twins hug it out before coming over to join the rest of us for a hockey hug. Eventually, we make our way off the ice and to the locker room. I feel bad for Kellan Hellberg. He’s a center who was honored with the gloves at the end of the last game. His job now is to figure out which of those two deserves the pair of boxing gloves. Do you give it to the guy who set up the play or the one who sealed the W for us?
He picks them up and glances back and forth between the twins. “You both were awesome for us in overtime, but I think the playmaker should get it tonight.”
Hells hands the gloves to Collin. There’s a social media posting person, I don’t know what her official title is, waiting to take a picture of him. He leans toward his brother and makes sure the gloves hang from both of their necks for the photo. That picture will be on all the social media sites soon, not that I’m going to see it. That’s just what I know happens because one time when I got the gloves, Meredith had to show me.
Everyone is in a good mood from the win, and someone mentions heading to a bar. When it comes time to leave, I check my phone to see a message from Meredith. The girls had an away game and she said she wouldn’t make it to the game. She didn’t get to see her first overtime game after all. I text her to see if she wants to go to the bar. Her answer may decide whether I go or not. Things have been really good with us lately since she officially retired and reassured me when I was worried she wouldn’t be happy with her new life. If she says she doesn’t want to go, I’m probably heading home to see her.
It comes as no surprise to anyone that Ian is the first to leave. EJ says he’s in and mutters something about being ignored by his chick, which is a good thing. Probably. Marc told me once that he thought she was a drug addict, and he didn’t think EJ knew it. I asked him why he even thought she was because she looked like a normal person when we saw her at the Halloween party. Then again, I don’t think you can look at someone and tell if they’re a drug user, but Marc swears he can spot one when he sees one.
Speaking of the devil, Marco is going, too. I check my phone because it’s time to make a decision about whether I’m going to the bar or not, but I still haven’t heard from Meredith. That’s unusual.
“You coming, Rams?” Marc asks me as we begin walking outside to the parking lot. “Or is the ball and chain demanding you come home?”
“Shut the hell up, Marco. I was waiting to see if she wanted to go, but haven’t heard back is all.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to skip this time and go check on Mere.”
Marc rolls his eyes. “She’s probably sleeping.”
“It’s just unusual that she didn’t even text when she got home. She normally does, and she hasn’t. Something might be wrong. I’ll check on her and then meet you at the bar. I know you only want me to come because you don’t know how to be social and function without me around,” I tease.
Marc laughs as we reach our vehicles. “If you aren’t there in an hour, then I don’t have to take you and Meredith out to dinner.”
“Done,” I agree.
“I’ll be calling you anyway to find out what happened.” He pauses. “And to make sure she’s okay. I am her favorite Rebel; she might need me to stop by and cheer her up because we all know you just aren’t going to cut it for her.”
I flip him off before getting into my SUV. The ride home is quiet as the high of the win slowly dissolves. The parking space where my other car should be is empty. Odd. When I walk into the apartment, I see Leo’s crate is open and a lamp is on. So, she has to be here. But where’s my car?
“Mere?” I call out.
Only silence greets me. I walk down the hallway to our room, but it’s empty. As is the bathroom and guest bedroom. Meredith and Leo are nowhere to be found. Surely she isn’t walking him this late; it’s after midnight now. I head back outside to where she normally walks him, but I don’t see her.
Would she have taken
Leo with her somewhere? She never has before. Where would she even take him? She has to be here somewhere.
But where is she?
And where is my car?