The Playmaker (Fire on Ice) (17 page)

“Please don’t tell me I have to talk to Stinky to get her co
ntact info.” My sister, Zelda, screwed up her nose like she was repulsed by the very thought of it.

“Well, I’m not going to talk to Stinky,” Robyn stated.

“What’s wrong with Stinky?” I asked.

They both looked at me like I was the dumbest person on the planet.

“His nickname is Stinky,” my sister said. “I think that’s all you need to know.”

“Let me guess, he doesn’t have a cell phone. Do any of you have cell phones?”

I got another one of those looks from both my sister and Robyn. Like I was completely ignorant. “It’s a fair question,” I continued. “Most people have cell phones.”

“We’re not like most people,” my sister stated proudly.

“That’s an understatement,” I retorted.

“How about if we all go to
Stinky’s together?” Robyn suggested. “That way none of us will feel like we’re getting a bad deal. We’ll all be getting a bad deal together.”

***

As soon as we got close to Stinky’s apartment, it became clear how he had acquired the nickname. I had to cover my nose, the odor emanating from his doorway was overwhelming, like a combination of garlic, urine and sweaty gym socks.

“Are you girls ready?” Robyn asked as he put his knuckles to
Stinky’s door to knock.

My sister scrunched up her nose in response.

Robyn knocked and we heard a moan from behind the door that kind of resembled “Yeah, coming.”

I tried to picture in my mind what someone named Stinky would look like but nothing prepared me for what I saw when the door finally opened. The guy looked to be about 5
feet 5 inches not much taller than me but he probably only weighed about one hundred pounds. He was rail thin and his clothing was so tight that it gave him an even slimmer appearance. His hair was shoulder length and stringy. It didn’t look like he had washed, or even combed it, in a while. And when I examined his T-shirt more closely, I realized what I initially thought was a design was actually food stains.

The odor coming out of his apartment was close to unbear
able. I wondered if it would be too rude to ask him to come out in the hallway and close his apartment door behind him. It was actually making me sick to my stomach.

“Hey, Buddy,” Robyn
exclaimed. I noticed he didn’t call him Stinky and I wondered if it was a nickname they used behind his back. “We were wondering if we could get your cousin’s contact info. You know, the cutie from Tuscan who you brought to the party that time.”

“Wendi? Yeah, sure. Do you want to come in while I try to find a pen?”

We all shook our heads in unison. I quickly grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and said, “You can just give me the info. I’ll put it right in my phone.”

Stinky looked at my cell
phone like it was something from another planet.

“I’m not a theater major,” I said quickly and he nodded like that explained everything.

“Neither is Wendi. She’s got a cell phone.”

He recited the number and I typed it into my phone.

“Thanks,” my sister said.

“Does this mean you’ll go out with me sometime?” When Stinky grinned at my sister, I noticed he was missing two of his bottom teeth.

“I don’t go out with guys,” my sister chided. 

“By go out I meant sleep with,” Stinky corrected.

My sister glared at him. “I’ll never sleep with you.”

Stinky sighed in disappointment. “You’ve slept with everyone else in the theater department, including old Professor Redman.”

“Professor Redman is not that old,” my sister protested.

“This sucks,” Stinky complained. “I never get any action.”

I kind of felt bad for him. It was obvious he had no idea that he was stinky and a little repulsive.

“Thanks for Wendi’s number,” Robyn said. “We’ve got to split.”

“See you guys in class.” Stinky gave a half-hearted wave and then closed his apartment door.

***

When we got back to my sister’s apartment, my sister and Robyn decided to go back to his place to study. I had a feeling they weren’t going to be studying Moliere. I was glad to have some time to myself. My family members had barely let me out of their sight since I was discharged from the hospital.

  I called Wendi and was surprised when she picked up on the first ring. “Wendi?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She coughed. “Who is this?”

“My name is Taylor Thompson. My sister is a friend of
Sti—of your cousin’s.”

I could hear her inhale, like she was smoking a cigarette. “What do you want?”

“You were up here for a party. You met a guy named Blake Woods.”

“Yeah, a real sweet guy,” she said sarcastically.

Another inhale.

“I was wondering if you’d consider making a police report against him.”

She laughed. “Not a chance.”

I gathered up every ounce of courage I had. “A few weeks ago, he attacked me. He beat me really badly and raped me.”

I waited but she didn’t say anything. I could hear her take a few more drags of her cigarette.

“Wendi?”

“What does that have to do with me?” she said.

I was a little taken aback by her indifference. If she’
d reported her assault, maybe he wouldn’t have attacked me. “He’s still on the street. He hasn’t been arrested. Maybe if they have your story, in addition to mine, they’ll have enough to put him in jail so he won’t hurt anyone else.”

“Why would I care if he hurts anyone else?”

That hit me like a slap in the face. Why wouldn’t she care about other people? “I’ve obviously made a mistake calling.”

Just as I was about to hang up, Wendi said, “You know, I got twenty thousand
dollars and he just knocked me around a little bit. Busted my lip. What he did to you, I bet you could get fifty grand easy.”

I could feel a knot forming in my stomach. “Thanks for your time
.” I ended the call.

It took me a minute to fully comprehend the conversation. Wendi didn’t care about anyone but herself and the money. And she seemed to think getting paid made it okay for Blake to beat her. No amount of money would ever make what he did to me okay.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I did care about what happened to other people, especially people like me, who were victims of sexual assault.  Maybe that was what I was supposed to be doing with my life—helping people who were raped.

But first, I needed to help myself.

Seventeen

Kian

I didn’t check my mailbox every day. There was no reason to. I didn’t use credit cards and some of my utilities were included in my rent. I got separate bills for electricity and water.

I was surprised to see a package in my box. I had never r
eceived a package before. Who would send me one?

I stared at the outside of the large, puffy envelope. Taylor had drawn a birthday cake with candles on the lower right corner. I never told her my birthday was coming up. I never told anyone about my birthday period. Runt sometimes remembered and when he did, he bought me a beer. That was generally the extent of my birthday celebration. 

I didn’t know if my teammates would do anything for my birthday. We were playing San Jose that night but I didn’t go out after the games. Some of the younger guys had tried to get me to join them at the clubs. A few of them had reputations as real big partiers. A few years ago, I would have probably been right there with them. But I just didn’t have it in me anymore. I didn’t want to get involved in that scene—too much temptation. Too many girls willing to do whatever a guy wanted—no strings attached. Instead, I thought about Taylor a lot and my right hand became well acquainted with my one-eyed cave dweller.

A few of the married guys asked me if I had a fiancé. I just nodded but I didn’t go into detail. How could I possibly explain everything that happened?

I felt like Taylor was mine, even though she didn’t have my ring on her finger. I wanted that to change but the timing had to be perfect. She needed time to heal first. I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

I knew it was completely ridiculous but I wanted to sniff the package. I wanted to see if it held even the slightest trace of her scent. I missed Taylor so much I knew I was grasping at anything that could reconnect us, no matter how small.

I carried the package like a newborn baby as I walked to my apartment. Not that I ever held a newborn but I imagined what it would be like, holding something so precious, you’d guard it with your life.

I sat down at my dining table and examined the outside of the package. I hadn’t noticed in the dim light of the hallway that in the return address, she had drawn something on top of both of the T’s in her first and last name. When I looked closely, I noticed she had drawn tiaras.

My princess.

I carefully opened the seal of the package and removed the contents. There as a card and a small stack of construction paper.

I opened the envelope of the card. The front had a birthday cake, similar to the one she had drawn on the front of the package. Inside she had written:

You didn’t tell me it was your birthday but since you’re a celebrity now, you can’t exactly keep it a secret. I wish I was there to celebrate it with you.
We’ll celebrate when I come out to visit
for Spring Break! Happy
Birthday, Big Guy! I love you. You and only you. Now and always.

I wanted to take her into my arms and hold her. I never wanted to let her go. I used to think that if I could only have one wish, it would be to play in the NHL. Now the only wish I had was that I could wake up every morning, for the rest of my life, with Taylor next to me.

I carefully placed the card on the table next to me and picked up the construction paper. There was a yellow sticky note stuck to the first piece of paper. It read:
I don’t have the funds for a television commercial but I hope this will suffice
.

On each piece of construction paper, Taylor had drawn pi
ctures that resembled the cartoons from the commercial I had made for her. The first drawing was a depiction of the two of us at the cabin, sitting by the fire, in each other’s arms. She labeled it Happiness is a Warm Fire with My Love.

The second drawing was of Taylor in a self-defense class, kicking someone to the ground. The caption read: Self-defense Makes Me Strong.

The third drawing was of a tiny Taylor waving from inside an airplane. She certainly wouldn’t win any awards for art but I thought the drawing was cute. She labeled that one: Going to Visit my Man.

The fourth drawing was of Taylor sitting in a stadium watc
hing me play hockey. My hockey stick looked more like a crooked broom than a hockey stick. It made me wonder if she’d ever actually seen one up close. She labeled that one: Fire on Ice.

The fifth drawing was of Taylor wearing a graduation cap and holding a diploma. She labeled that one: Finally Finished.

The sixth drawing was of me and Taylor holding hands. We’re in the sunlight and there are flowers all around us. Above our heads are lots of hearts of various shapes and sizes. She labeled that one: You and Only You. Now and Always.

I grabbed my phone and called her.

“What’s going on?” The humor had returned to her voice. I missed hearing it.

“I think you know what’s going on,” I replied.

She laughed. It was great to hear her laugh again. “I guess you got the package I sent.”

“And exactly how did you find out about my birthday. I was trying to keep it a secret.”

“I guess there aren’t any secrets when you’re in the NHL. Your date of birth is prominently displayed on the website.”

“I didn’t think you’d be looking at the NHL website.”

“How else was I going to find out your birthdate?”

“You could have asked.”

She laughed again. “Like you would have told me.”

“Maybe, if you twisted my arm.”

“I know how to do that now. Self-defense training.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. I could feel my voice falter a bit. I had to hold it together. I don’t want her to think her hockey hunk was really a pussy. “I’ve never gotten a package before. It means a lot to me.”

“What do you mean?” She sounded surprised. “You’ve never gotten a package before?”

“Who would send me a package?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Do you like your first ever package? If I knew it was your first, I would have tried to make it a little more spectacular.”

“Your drawings are spectacular,” I teased.

“They are a lot of things but spectacular is definitely not one of them. They lean more towards sucky, definitely unskilled…” She laughed. “I really can’t draw at all.”

“They are a little on the sucky side but it’s the thought that counts. I love them in all their
suckiness.”

“I meant what I wrote. I do love you, Kian.”

“And you really are going to visit me? You’re really going to be in the arena watching me play?”

“I really am.”

“That’s the best birthday present ever.”

“Ever?”

I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t remember the last birthday present I got. I was probably five or six years old. “Ever,” I assured her.

“Well, you’re easy to please.”

“You’re all I want, Taylor. You and only you.”

“Now and always,” she said and I had to smile. I couldn’t wait to see her.

“So tell me about this self-defense training.”

“I’ve been going every day. I’ve kind of got addicted to it. And I’m actually getting good at it. I know it’s hard to believe. One of the least athletic people in the entire world. But I’ve been working really hard at it. It makes me feel strong again. I feel like I can go out into the world and not be scared out of my mind. Does that make sense?”

“It does. And I’m glad it’s helping. I still feel bad that I can’t be there for you. But I’m not as worried.” I still felt worried but maybe a little less. I looked at some of the self-defense training videos on line and it looked like impressive stuff.

   “I have some more great news,” she said. “You saw the drawing of me in the graduation cap and gown?”

“I did.”

“Well, I finished all of my independent study work. My pr
ofessors were very impressed. I just need to take my final examinations after Spring Break and I’ll be a college graduate!”

I wanted desperately to ask her, “And then what?” but I didn’t want to push her. She needed to make her own decisions, especially now, after everything she went through. As much as I wanted her with me, I had to wait. I had to see what she wanted to do. “I’m very proud of you,” I said instead.

“I decided to do a little countdown. Every day, I’ll text you the number of hours until Zelda and I come out to visit.”

“It’ll give me something to look forward to,” I said.

“Me, too. I miss you so much, Kian.”

“I miss you, too, Princess.”

***

I didn’t ask Taylor about how the case against Blake was g
oing. Things were going so well for her, with her classes and her self-defense training, I didn’t want to upset her. But I did want to know. So I phoned Officer Moore myself.

“Moore,” she said briskly when she picked up the phone.

“This is Kian Kavanagh,” I said. “We met a few weeks ago when I came in with Taylor Thompson. I wanted to know if there were any updates in her case.”

“Unfortunately, there’s nothing new to report, Mr. Kavanagh. I wish I had better news but we’re kind of at a standstill. The D.A. doesn’t want to proceed with the case at this time.”

I wanted to ask if they had gotten paid off, too, but I held my tongue. “Are you just going to wait until he attacks someone else?”

She cleared her throat. “People do get careless. They get cocky and when they get cocky they tend to leave loose ends.”

“They also leave more victims in their wake,” I said. “Do you want that on your conscience?”

She actually let out a single cynical laugh. “You have no idea what my conscience has to bear.”

“I just hope he doesn’t go after Taylor again. If he does, you won’t have to worry about arresting him or trying him or any other form of criminal justice because he’ll probably be dead.”

“Is that a threat, Mr. Kavanagh?”

“That is absolutely
not
a threat,” I assured her.
It’s a guarantee
.

“Is that all?” She sounded impatient, like she had better things to do than to waste her time with me. 

“I won’t waste any more of your time,” I said.

She didn’t bother to reply. She just hung up.

***

That night after practice, one of the married guys, Novak, caught me in the locker room.

“Is everything okay, Kavanagh?”

I hadn’t mentioned anything to my teammates about Taylor and what had happened. I wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe I still felt guilty that I wasn’t there to protect her.

“You’ve been magic on the ice. Truly amazing. But once you’re off the ice, you’re like a completely different person. Kind of like a zombie. Like you’re going through the motions but there’s nothing else there.”

He was right. On the ice, I was all reflexes. I didn’t have to think. I just did what I had been trained to do. But my mind and heart weren’t in Seattle. They were with Taylor.

“Just some personal stuff. My girlfriend.”

He nodded. “Relationships can be hard when you’re on the road all the time.”

Being away from Taylor was harder than I ever imagined. I had fulfilled my dream. I was playing professional hockey. But Taylor was a dream I didn’t even know I had. She was a dream I wanted to spend the rest of my life fulfilling.

Novak patted my shoulder. “I’m around if you ever want to talk. Maybe we can grab a beer or something.”

“Thanks,” I said but my thoughts were still preoccupied with Taylor.