Hot Puck (Rough Riders Hockey 2)
“Period break.” Gabe stood. “I’m going to grab a beer. Want something?”
Eden sighed and sat back. “No, thanks.”
She looked around the stadium, feeling frustrated and oddly left out. On the ice, a bunch of kids came out to play hockey. And, Lord, they looked so tiny on the big rink. The thought of Beckett on skates at two years old eased a little irritation.
Then her gaze fell on the girls in the forward rows. Their mom had gotten them cotton candy, and they were pulling off fluffy pieces and stuffing the sugar in their mouths, all while dancing to the music pouring through the stadium speakers.
Eden sighed. They were beautiful. The two older girls had long dark hair. The younger one had a head of sandy blonde curls. And it was the youngest one who tied her heartstrings in knots. Probably because she was so little. Probably because she was blonde. Most of the seats between Eden and the girls had been vacated for the break, and she had nothing to distract her from watching them. Nothing to keep her mind from wondering what her life would be like now if she’d walked out on John one day sooner.
The littlest girl danced a circle while eating pink cotton candy off her tiny fingers. Her gaze caught Eden’s and held. A big grin brightened her face. The girl looked like a little cherub and glowed like an angel. Eden felt like a fist reached inside and squeezed in a deeply bittersweet way that spread loss through her.
Then the girl extended her hand toward Eden. “Want some?”
Her voice was as sweet as her face. Despite the hurt, the girl’s raw innocence made Eden laugh. “No, but thank you, sweetie.”
The woman with the girls glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Eden.
“They’re beautiful,” she told the other woman.
She beamed. “Thank you.” She looked at the girls. “What do you say?”
“Thank you,” the older girls said in unison, smiling.
Then the little one followed, with an exaggerated and bubbly “Thank you.”
Their mother was pretty, and the two older girls looked just like her. The little one, not so much. The three girls continued to sway and turn circles with their threads of sugar. And Eden continued to watch, trapped in a situation she would never have endured otherwise. When she dealt with children on the job, her mind was already compartmentalized for work, she generally didn’t spend much time with them, and she was too busy to let her mind wander. This…this was torture. Maybe if these beauties had been boys, her heart wouldn’t be breaking and tears wouldn’t be thickening her throat.
Man, Tori was right. Eden needed to get out and live more. School and work weren’t giving her the exposure she needed to get over the past. She certainly couldn’t hide from relationships and children forever.
Gabe returned, offering her some much needed distraction. Fans refilled the seats between Eden and the little girls. And the game restarted shortly after, restoring Eden with a sense of equilibrium, albeit subdued.
For the remainder of the game, she tried really hard to focus on the plays, on Beckett, and on Gabe’s explanations. During the second break, Eden went to the restroom so she didn’t have to stare at those little girls again. And by the time the third period ended and the Rough Riders won, Eden thought she might have a better understanding of the game. She definitely had a better feel for the game.
To avoid running into the girls again, Eden quickly slid into the flow of fans making their way up the steps. She stayed close to Gabe as they navigated the mob until he’d used their passes to get them through the restricted access mazes underneath the stadium, where wives and girlfriends—WAGs, Gabe had called them—gathered to meet their men after the game.
Eden didn’t love the idea of being lumped in with
a group others referred to as WAGs or being seen as someone who waited for “her man.” But she’d have to make other arrangements next time, because she was already here.
When they stood at the mouth of the corridor, Gabe asked, “So where are you two going?”
“Out to dinner. I don’t know where. Somewhere close, I hope. I’m starving.”
“Have fun. Tell Beckett thanks for the tickets and great game.”
“Thanks for coming, Gabe.”
He laughed and offered an enthusiastic “Anytime.”
Stadium staff wandered the halls, and other women and a few children started to gather in the large corridor. Eden wandered toward the end and peered up a staircase that led to a parking lot, which gave her bearings. This hallway wasn’t all that far away from the one they’d used to cart Beckett out to the ambulance.
She was remembering that night, smiling to herself, when little voices echoed off the concrete. Eden looked that direction and found the woman who’d been sitting five rows down from her along with the three precious little girls who had nearly brought Eden to tears.
The four females with Croft on their jerseys.
Eden’s mind pinged backward, and she realized there hadn’t been a man with the group. No husband or father or brother or uncle.
And they were gathered where wives and girlfriends met their men after the game. Wearing Croft jerseys.