Meghan walked right down front. Warm-ups would start in just
a minute. Few fans were in attendance at an Islanders pre-season game, but they
buzzed with a positive, reinforcing vibe that Meghan found infectious. She
thought John could work with this, feed off it until later in the season when
hopefully the Isles’ record was solid and their audience swelled.
The announcer’s voice came over the PA: Ladies and
gentlemen, your New York Islanders! Skates stepped onto the ice, a blur of blue
jerseys with with numbers. She scanned the numbers; no luck on the first
go-round.
John did as he always did: one lap, stop by the bench. He
was already limber, first to line up for drills. The music was loud and the
lights bright, who cared if there were not many people around to enjoy it? John
liked it just fine regardless. He was fixing a piece of tape on his stick when
Moulson barrelled into him from the side, pinning him against the boards as
hard as he dared without risking injury.
“Did you see?”
John had not seen anything. Matt nodded toward the far
boards, below the penalty box area near the blue line.
Meghan had used the biggest piece of paper she could find -
something legal-sized that Michael had from work. The irony of using a Rangers
document at an Islanders game was not lost on her. She’d stopped at Duane Reade
to buy a Sharpie before getting in the car Michael insisted on ordering. In the
back of a sleek black sedan, she wrote two simple words as boldly as possible
on the back of his paper. Now she held it low against the glass as the
Islanders skated by.
John noticed the sign first. He read it and smiled the way
he always did when fans and adoration embarrassed him. He looked to see who was
holding it flush with the dasher, trying to be inconspicuous.
Hi John.
The girl behind it was Meghan.
He could tell from across the ice. She had on a short-sleeve
blue shirt with an Islander logo, white long sleeves underneath and her hair
pulled forward over her shoulders. He’d know her from a mile away, from the
back, from the side, from space. John instantly felt guilty for not knowing at
some psychic, subatomic level that she was here. Behind him, a voice said,
“Dude. Really?”
Of course it was Matt Martin, shaking his head. He was too
used to having the hottest girlfriend and amazed to find Tavares challenging
that title. John pushed off his left foot and arrived five seconds later right
in front of the girl of his dreams.
Phwoar, Meghan’s whole body said. John in street clothes was
so different from John, captain of his team, on the ice for a game. The
exhibition game in Brooklyn had been one thing but this John’s home rink, where
he belonged. Even in a mostly empty barn the idea was overwhelming. She blinked
to keep her focus as he approached.
“Hi,” he said. The smile on his face was so big it hurt.
People around them were noticing. She could almost hear him over the music and
definitely read his lips. So she waved.
“What are you doing here?” John asked with a demonstrative
shrug.
Meghan folded over the corner of the sign where she’d
written her second message: I missed you.
Nothing had ever felt so good. John thought that maybe if he
someday won a Stanley Cup, maybe that would be similar. Maybe not. The Stanley
Cup only lasted one summer, after all, before he had to start fighting for it
again. This felt like big news, like Meghan might finally be a permanent thing.
“Good luck,” she said. Her heart was doing kickflips. She
wanted so badly to shout: I got the job, I’m moving here, I can’t wait!!! But
she needed to be able to end that sentence with a kiss.
There were only three words in John’s vocabulary at that
moment. He was sure Meghan already knew what he wanted to say.
____
He flew, and the team flew with him. Meghan had bought a
seat in the 100 level for under $25 - a price so low it would make her dad cry.
Someday she’d tell him, after John had gotten him seats that good to a game in
Toronto. She was on the penalty box side, near the blue line of the Isles
offensive zone.
John knew exactly where. He felt her eyes on him like
bubbles coursing over his skin. Less than two minutes into the game, he was in
front of the net when a shot came from the point. John didn’t even look, he
just angled his stick and knew this was his night. The puck was behind the
Preds goalie before anyone could blink.
Meghan had watched John play in Brooklyn, plus James and
Steven and PK and Michael plenty of times, but this still felt different. She
didn’t worry more about John; didn’t need too because he was that good. Instead
she wanted to shout: Look at him! He’s so good! Don’t you want to pay to see
this?! Looking around the arena, she cursed the fact this wasn’t Canada and not
so many people cared. When John scored, she cheered loud enough for all the
empty seats.
John scored again in the first period. In the second the
Isles pulled away and ended up winning 6-4. Goals were exciting but the
back-and-forth on the scoreboard gave Meghan fits. Only when the buzzer sounded
did she let out the breath she’d been holding.
John did his captain duty, waiting until his teammates had
filed off the ice, then he practically ran down the hallway. In the locker
room, he put his helmet on its shelf and chucked his soaked gloves into the
equipment cart. With still-damp hands, he texted Meghan: Don’t leave.
On the concourse, she smiled. As if she would go.
John would be downstairs talking to media then he’d shower.
The idea of him all freshly clean gave Meghan the flutters. She leaned against
a kiosk, willing him to hurry.
Instead an usher came for her. By then she was practically
the only person left in the entire building. The older man walked her to an
elevator and through a maze of hallways into the bowels of the oldest
unrenovated arena in the NHL. Michael had warned her that the Nassau Coliseum
was bad, but she saw a certain charm in a place that hadn’t changed in decades
years. It felt like old time hockey.
“You can wait in here, miss.”
The lounge was painted and decorated, TVs on the walls all
turned off. Someone had tried to cover up the outdated look of the place by
making this spot as comfortable as possible. It was smaller than other lounges
she’d been in and Meghan thought it might be one of several tucked into the
administrative level. It was empty tonight.
Photos of famous Islander moments were on display. Meant the
inspire, she wondered if the pictures had the opposite effect of reminding
everyone the Isles hadn’t won anything since their four Cups in a row thirty
years earlier. Between the old pictures and the old building, Long Island
seemed like the land that time forgot.
Behind her, the door opened. John was on her so fast he must
have run down the hallway. His arms cinched her tight, face buried in her neck.
His heart was pounding.
“What are you….” was lost in a kiss. John felt like he
hadn’t seen Meghan in months, years even, instead of just a few days. The
surprise of her turning up on Long Island could not be for no reason. But that
reason would have to wait until he finished soundly kissing her face off.
Meghan was so excited, she couldn’t keep it in. “Surprise!”
she said, pulling back.
John was panting a little. “You’re always full of
surprises.”
“Can you handle another?”
He went still in anticipation. It was no secret he what he
wanted but even John was careful not to hope himself into heartbreak.
“I got a job. Here. Today. Igotajobheretoday!” Her voice
rose until she was practically shouting.
They were on the couch, on top of each other and halfway to
the floor when Moulson stuck his head around the door. “Oh dear God!” Matt
turned right around to leave.
Meghan slipped out of John’s embrace and landed butt-first
on the ground, squeaking in surprise. John jumped to his feet and hauled her
up, relieved it wasn’t his coach to catch him attacking a girl in the family
lounge. As soon as Meghan was steady, she went for Matt.
“Woah, good news or what?” he asked, pushing her hair out of
his face and hugging her back. Over Meghan’s shoulder, Matt looked at John. His
best friend was beaming like he’d just won it all.
“Thank God,” Matt said.
Quickly John added, “Amen.”
____
Matt called Alicia, who called someone else to come over and
watch sleeping Maja. Colin, Martin and some of the other guys joined them at a
bar in Garden City. Alicia had given Meghan the biggest hug she’d ever
experienced and whispered, “Welcome home.” No one asked for details, sensing
she and John had not gotten to speak privately. They simply welcomed her like
they’d all waited long enough to do it.
Before an hour passed, Colin declared it time to go home. He
even let Meghan ride shotgun in John’s car. She went straight upstairs to
John’s room and lay face down on the bed. John followed, stretching out along
side her and pulling her close.
They were quiet for a long time. Meghan kept her eyes
closed, face buried in John’s chest. She concentrated on taking deep breaths,
each one full of John and free of uncertainty.
A lifetime had passed since she playfully kissed a cute guy
at the gym. Friendships had become more. Relationships had become less. Dreams
had changed, taking plans along with them, and to some degree Meghan felt her
fate had been determined. She was with John. She had made that choice and bent
circumstance to her will. If she had to do it again, she would. But she would
always be with John.
Eventually John said, “Thanks.”
Meghan laughed softly. “Anything for you.”
“You laugh,” he shifted so he could look into her eyes, “but
you mean that. I heard what you told Kaylynn, you know.”
“I know,” she admitted. Meghan heard her own words everyday:
I am willing to risk it for John because that is what you do when you’re in
love. You find a way to be together because you cannot be apart. She had meant
what she said back on that sidewalk but it wasn’t until this moment that she
could claim she’d made them true.
“Thank you for finding a way,” he repeated.
They shed some clothing and twisted together beneath a thin
blanket on John’s bed. Mentally and emotionally, three months of fighting for
and against this moment had worn them out. John fell asleep first and Meghan
kissed the scar above his lip before she drifted off.
____
When she opened her eyes, it was morning. John was there,
looking at her with those deep green eyes, a slight smirk on his face. Maybe he
was surprised to find that had all been real.
“How’d you get here?” he asked.
“Flew.”
“I mean to the game.”
“Car.”
“Whose car?”
“Hired.”
He rolled his eyes. “I knew it. You went to Del Zotto’s.”
Meghan smiled guiltily. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up.
Not until I knew if I got the job. I bought my ticket for the game before I got
the offer - but I really wanted to have good news.”
John could not resist that reasoning. He reached for
Meghan’s phone that was plugged in on the nightstand. Del Zotto picked up on
the third ring. “Hey gorgeous.”
“You flirt,” John said.
“Jesus, Tavares. You sound even uglier than you look.”
John laughed. “Do you actually need a helmet, or just a
little more hair gel?”
Banter aside, Michael guessed that a very happy John had
spent a very happy night with Meghan. Which meant only one thing. “She hasn’t
told you she’s gonna live here, eh?”
John watched Meghan’s face pull into a grimace. She could
clearly hear Del Zotto. “With you?” John asked. “Over my dead body.”
“As much as Neal might appreciate that, its’ not necessary.
I’ve got room - and a pool, ask her about the pool. I’m hardly here and I
figure,” Michael paused for effect, “when you’re in town you’re never gonna let
her stay somewhere else, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” John could not imagine Meghan sleeping twenty
miles away, alone, in another guy’s condo while he slept in this very bed. “But
it’s the nights I’m not here I care about.”
Michael lowered his voice, knowing Meghan was probably
listening. “Come on, bro. If I wanted Meghan, I’d have made a real move a long
time ago, alright?”
“That’s exactly what Neal said. You guys are the same.”
“No.” Michael’s tone was surprisingly serious. “Let me tell
you the difference between me and Neal: I listen. And all I’ve heard and seen
for months is that Meghan loves you. The only way Neal and I are the same is we
want her to be happy. If that’s with you, well… I don’t fucking understand it,
but I’m going to make sure she gets it.”
There were a million things wrong with the idea of Meghan
living with Michael, but John knew the actual arrangement would be fine. It
took care of the final step in her move to New York even more quickly than John
could have hoped. Michael had been a voice in the chorus all summer, and it
turned out he’d been telling Meghan to pick John all along.
“Listen,” Michael continued, “this way she’s practically got
her own place in the city. If she hates it, she leaves. Or maybe you play your
cards right and she moves out there. Either way, for now, let it be.”
John had been watching Meghan’s eyes as they both listened
to Del Zotto talk. She nodded once - John trusted her, which meant trusting
Michael. Which strangely felt like the right thing to do. John was confident DZ
was not about the change his tune now. And if he did, well Long Island wasn’t
that far away.
“I promise to keep an eye on her,” Michael said.
John sighed. “Okay.”
“Through the keyhole,” DZ added. In the background, Meghan
laughed. “Maybe a camera in the shower.”
“Fuck you,” John smiled.
“Oooh, webcam. Total side business. I already know who my
first subscriber will be.”
“Okay, it’s off.” John whacked Meghan with a pillow. She
kept right on giggling. “She can sleep under her desk.”
“Alright, alright. No webcam,” Michael conceded. “She
probably sleeps in an Isles jersey anyway.”
____
Meghan flew home Sunday morning. Lucy picked her up at the
airport and they drove to her parents’, where Meghan had been staying since
John went back to New York.
She’d been practically living out of a bag after leaving
James’ house. John had given her drawers at his house in Mississauga, but even
staying there every night always had an expiration date. Her parents’ place was
also a temporary fix. With all that practice it would be easy for Meghan to
split her time between Michael’s apartments and John’s house. She and Lucy
pulled out the fall and winter clothes, divided them into bags and stuffed
boots and underwear into every available space. The extra stuff - photos and
books and whatnot - seemed outdated after her year in London. In the end she
divided things into two small boxes, one for Michael’s and one for John’s, and
figured she’d collect new stuff to match her new life.
By four-thirty, Meghan’s room was mostly empty and her car
mostly full. They piled into Lucy’s car and drove the hour and a half north to
Barrie, Ontario. No need to race there for a stolen moment with John now.
An NHL game in Barrie was a big deal, even in pre-season.
The small arena pulsed with an energy that Nassau Coliseum had lacked. IJohn’s
parents were there, along with most of the people Meghan and Lucy had met at
their barbecue earlier in the summer. No one looked surprised to see her again;
in fact John’s mother Barbara had already told anyone who would listen that
Meghan was on her way to New York the very next day. She and Joe greeted Meghan
with huge hugs.
Meghan wondered what she would have told John’s parents if
the job hadn’t come through. How could she look at these people and say she was
less than willing to give up… what? No job, living with her own parents,
practically nothing. All summer she’d worried about doing this her own way, but
in the end it had been the only way. Hockey parents sacrificed a ton for their
kids to pursue the sport. From the look in Barb’s eyes, Meghan knew her own
effort did not go unnoticed.
For his part, John was on cloud nine. He stepped onto the
ice as the leader of his team. His family was there to see it - a family that
now officially included Meghan. So what if fewer than seven thousand people
could fit into this rink when a handful of only a handful of them really mattered?
For once, things clicked on the ice as well as they were
working in John’s personal life. Okposo scored first, followed by three of the
Isles’ minor league system guys. John knew he was supposed to be examining
their play for NHL-caliber potential but all he could see was the scoreboard -
one-nothing, two-nothing, three to one, four to two. Always an insurance goal
between the Isles tally and what the Senators managed to score. If this
patchwork lineup could click, maybe the Islanders’ were looking at a strong
season.
In the third period, John got the puck on his backhand and
flicked it past the Ottawa goalie. The move was a reflex. His celebration may
have been a little over the top.
After the Isles won 5-2, everyone waited. They’d visited the
arena when John played in the OHL and helped themselves to one of the lounges.
It would be a while before his family and friends got to see him again. Meghan
followed the group, but took up a spot outside the door to wait.
He came out jogging, dove grey suit coat open and lavender
tie knotted tightly. The outfit was perfectly tailored - she couldn’t help but
notice the thought he’d put into dressing. His dark hair was towel-dried and
raked to one side in an attempt at grooming. John saw Meghan and picked up speed,
not stopping until he’d wrapped his arms around her waist.
“All packed?”
“All packed,” she nodded.
“Got your passport?”
“Yup.”
“Check your oil? You might need a change if….”
Meghan kissed him right in the middle of his responsible
pre-road trip checklist. She would always love that he wanted to take care of
her, though she’d taken a long time to let him do it. And even when his life
was consumed by hockey, Meghan knew John would always make sure she was okay.
“I love you,” she whispered..
John said the words he’d been hoping to say since the day
they met. “See you in New York.”
_____
EPILOGUE
Tuesday, January 21
“Hey,” John said, coming to a stop near the center line.
“Sup.” Del Zotto nodded toward the visitors bench at Madison
Square Garden, where Meghan was sitting two rows back watching her boyfriend
and her roommate make nice. They’d actually been great all season, hanging out
together when the occasion called and only mildly marking their territory when
it came to sharing Meghan. She threw them a little wave. John gave Del Zotto a
friendly stick tap on the shins and went back to the warm-up skate.
The Islanders were playing the Rangers in front of a packed
house. Despite the standings, which still had the Isles out of playoff
contention, they were the hottest team in hockey. Seven out of ten January
games had been wins and John felt their confidence multiply exponentially each
time. They were climbing - and John was leading. He was second in overall
points, near the top in goals and had been officially selected for the
Olympics. The Islanders were making a run guided by a career-year from their
captain.
John tried to give Meghan all the credit, but she just
laughed. He’d been nominated for the Hart Trophy before they ever met so
anything John got, he earned. Still, her being in New York was working. The job
was great - challenging, fast-paced, enlightening. Meghan’s bosses were
thrilled with her performance and she’d eventually come clean about her
connections to their favorite hockey teams. Kevin and Rick were somewhere in
the crowd tonight, a little gift from their newest employee.
Outside the job, Meghan could not have asked for a better
life. Michael had proven to be a great choice of housemate. He wasn’t quite the
party boy she had expected - they watched movies and went to dinner, she called
thirty minutes into each of his dates in case he needed to be rescued. And the
pool was pretty amazing too.
That took the pressure off John. When he was away, he knew
Meghan wasn’t lonely or regretting the move. He usually wished he were with
her, checking out a show or eating at some brand new restaurant. When he was
home though, she was all his. She called his place her “beach house” and went
on “vacation” there as often and long as John was in town.
He called every single night from the road to say he loved
her. Tonight he would get to say it in person.
____
“I don’t think he wants to see me,” John protested. Meghan
laughed and kept pulling his arm. The Islanders were off the next day and no
one was taking the bus home after the game. Especially because they had rallied
from two goals down to beat the Rangers 5-3, making their January win
percentage 73%. Celebrating was in order, as soon as Meghan changed her
clothes.
“He didn’t miss you getting three assists and being named
First Star, so I think he can handle five more minutes,” she insisted.
John shrugged. “I also had four shots on goal.”
At Michael’s place, he followed Meghan right into her room.
She made a show of closing the door before slipping out of her sweater and
leggings in a way John had come to know well. He reached out, grazing the
smooth skin of her lower back as she wiggled into a pair of dark jeans. A blue
and white striped top went overhead and she stepped into nude patent leather
heels. Outside they heard the front door open.
“Hey, we’re just leaving,” Meghan said as they entered the
living room.
Michael was standing in the kitchen staring into his hand.
At her voice, he looked up.
“Tavares, I’m glad you’re here,” he tossed something to
John. “Yours now.”
John caught the object: Michael’s keys. The silence was
instant and suffocating.
“What?” Meghan whispered.
“Traded,” Michael said. “Nashville.”
John didn’t hear what came next. Fear welled in his chest
like an oil spill, coating everything and blocking out senses. He saw Meghan
grab Michael from behind, and the big defenseman move her around into his
chest. They stood wrapped up in each other, still as a statue. In another
instance it might have bothered John to see some guy clinging to Meghan. At
this moment he was glad Michael had someone.
A trade was like a shark. It lurked out of sight, always
circling. No one was ever really safe. Some guys wanted them, bargained for or
demanded them. But usually it was a weapon or punishment that came out of
nowhere and knocked you to the ground.
John jangled the keys in his hand.
“I’m sorry, man,” he said honestly.
Michael shrugged, letting go of Meghan. There had been
rumors for months - he’d gotten so used to them being empty. Now he could not
claim surprise. Still Michael loved his life in New York; besides being in the
greatest city and media market in America, it was a pretty sweet place to play
hockey. Nashville sounded like a death sentence.
Still DZ managed a smirk. “At least it’s not Long Island.”
John appreciated the attempt at levity. “You sure? I’ll give
you my keys.”
They talked for a few minutes. The trade would officially be
announced in the morning and Michael would leave immediately. Meghan promised
to pack up whatever he needed and fly down with it over the weekend; Michael
made John keep the house key since they had no idea yet what would happen to
the condo. When Michael said he just wanted to go to bed, Meghan grabbed an
overnight bag of her own.
Neither she nor John were in a mood to party after leaving.
He texted his teammates and told them not to wait. She used Uber to get them a
car and ten minutes later they were in the back of a dark sedan, whisking
toward Long Island. John held her hand.
She was scared. Like James, Michael was a lot more fragile
than he let on. The trade was a huge blow to his ego. The first few months in Pittsburgh
had been rough for James - he’d even let Meghan see how bad, which meant he
really hit rock bottom. The idea of that happening to Michael made her sick.
Meghan tried to tell herself it was a good thing, that he’d get more playing
time and responsibility. Eventually she just told herself that was hockey - the
life she had chosen, or at least that had chosen her.
John waited until they were home safe in his bed before
pulling Meghan close. Seeing her sad or scared broke his heart. It was tough to
admit there were things he could not protect her from - especially when he
couldn’t even really protect himself.
“I won’t get traded,” he said. It was a reasonable promise,
given his situation.
“I don’t care if you do,” she whispered. “Because you’re not
going without me.”
“Ever.”
Meghan smiled faintly. “Ever again.”
** the end **
_
Thank you for sticking around for all eight months - eight
months?!?! - of The Boys
'Round Here. I have never written anything so long, either in time or
pages. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Writing side-by-side with Harder Than
Stone was the best part for me. Imagine this whole story plus another
zillion emails of ideas and conversation… we could put out an encyclopedia now.
As promised, this will be my new James Neal story. It will pick up from where The Boys 'Round Here leaves James - he returns to Pittsburgh without Meghan and without much of his confidence, but hopefully with a little more common sense. It might be a while before you see the first chapter because I want to fine tune the ideas and plan out the story to take fewer than 8 months writing! I promise it will have James being good and bad (since my love/hate relationship with him really flares during playoffs), happy and sad and sometimes completely freaking perfect. Basically true-to-life, right? You can follow and bug me to get the first chapter posted at Take Me Home Tonight. - J
As promised, this will be my new James Neal story. It will pick up from where The Boys 'Round Here leaves James - he returns to Pittsburgh without Meghan and without much of his confidence, but hopefully with a little more common sense. It might be a while before you see the first chapter because I want to fine tune the ideas and plan out the story to take fewer than 8 months writing! I promise it will have James being good and bad (since my love/hate relationship with him really flares during playoffs), happy and sad and sometimes completely freaking perfect. Basically true-to-life, right? You can follow and bug me to get the first chapter posted at Take Me Home Tonight. - J
_