Baden (Pittsburgh Titans 1)

“Okay… thank you.”

There’s a short silence and then Brienne says, “I’m really glad to you have you as part of the organization.”

We make our goodbyes, and I set my phone on the table. Eyes on Riggs, I say, “Looks like I’m moving to Pittsburgh tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he says, surprised.

“They want to rebuild the team and get them on the ice as soon as possible.”

“Wow,” he murmurs, understanding what a massive and almost insurmountable task this might be. His gaze slides to the side for a moment before snapping back to me. “You know what this calls for?”

“What?”

His lips curve upward, eyes flashing mischievously. “A going-away party. Tonight. I’ll arrange everything.”

“Just the gang, okay?” It’s going to be heartbreaking to leave the team, and I don’t have it in me to manage a lot of emotional goodbyes. I want to keep it small.

Riggs nods. He understands what I mean by just the gang. Not the whole team, and certainly not the rookies. Just those guys who I have the tightest bonds with. I know he has my back on this.

CHAPTER 2

Sophie

Movement outside my home office window catches my attention. A police car drives by slowly with its lights on but no siren. Behind it is a black hearse, followed by a black sedan with tinted windows. Behind that, a long line of cars heads toward the cemetery three blocks up from my Duquesne Heights home. All the vehicles have their headlights on.

I read in the paper yesterday that there were still several more funerals over the next few days following the memorial service at the Titans’ arena yesterday. I have no clue if this particular funeral procession is for someone who was on that plane, but it immediately brought the crash to mind. It’s all anyone is talking about.

Local TV news, the newspapers, and social media are buzzing. At first, it was abject horror over the event and the massive loss of life. Now talk is switching to what the future looks like for the Titans.

Pittsburgh is known for many things, its long-ago era of steel production replaced by banking, tech, and top-ranked medical care. Downtown streets flanked by Gothic-style buildings bustle with commerce while lovely rivers and the rolling hills that surround the city soften the steel and concrete, making it a beautiful, unique place to live.

But mostly, Pittsburgh is known for its sports, boasting professional football, baseball, and hockey teams. And the fans here are the most rabid of anywhere else—all the teams are revered regardless of their win/loss records. Go into my closet or drawers, and you’ll find T-shirts, jackets, and jerseys for every one of our teams.

The loss of the Pittsburgh Titans has been a huge blow to the city, and people are struggling because it’s part of our identity. People are looking for a glimmer of hope that all is not lost when it comes to our hockey team.

I did see on the morning news that the Titans owner, Brienne Norcross, has promised she is working hard to rebuild the team as quickly as possible so our season can continue. She was very diplomatic when she said, “We are building from scratch. It might take years for us to regain our footing, but whoever we’re able to put out on that ice will carry the spirit of those talented and tenacious players we so tragically lost.”

It was a reminder that the team is going to be scraped together and will probably suck, but that we will have a team. I look forward to seeing what will happen.

I turn my attention from the funeral procession back to my laptop as I review next month’s travel schedule I’m putting together. Part of my current job is to coordinate where each of our training reps travels, as well as ensure they have proper accommodations and transportation.

The work is far too easy, making it boring and rote, but beggars can’t be choosers. I have a mortgage and car payment, along with various other bills that come along with adulting. And given my lack of choices for remote work, there’s nothing to be done but to wear a smile and press on.

I save my spreadsheet and start to exit Excel when my phone chimes with a motion-sensor alert from my security app. I hate that my heart jackhammers with fear, so I take a few deep breaths in and out as my therapist instructed. I refuse to rush to my medicine cabinet and pop a low-dose Xanax prescribed for breakthrough anxiety, and instead bravely choose to investigate what is moving outside my house.

With a few taps on my iPhone, I navigate to my security app and pull up the camera feed for the tripped motion sensor.

Tension melts away and my shoulders droop in relief when I see it’s just an alley cat sitting on a post of my six-foot privacy fence. Motion sensors cover my entire front and back yard, but it’s not a large area. Less than a tenth of an acre, to be exact, but there’s not an inch on this property that I can’t see thanks to the excellent security system. I had a local company, Jameson Force Security, install it after my attack in Phoenix last year, and it’s given me some measure of comfort over the last several months.