I meet with my new coach.
“We’ve got a pretty good hockey team here,” Coach Meknikov says. “I’m not about to shake things up and make a lot of changes, since this is temporary until we have a new head coach.”
I nod.
“It’s a young team,” he continues. “We like your experience and we need a solid presence on the blue line. That said, development is a big thing for us.” He pauses. “You heard about what happened here with the change of coaching staff.”
“Yeah.”
His face is sober. “We’re taking that very seriously. And I want you, and everyone, to know you can come to me with any concerns you have. We need to change the culture here.” He holds my gaze steadily and I sense his sincerity.
“That’s good to know.”
He knows the team and the systems, and we go over a lot of stuff. “The one-three-one power play formation has become the go-to power play system,” he says. “It gives us the ability to spread players out inside the zone, keep a player in front of the net at all times, and place shooters in key positions so they can shoot off the pass.”
“Yeah, we used that in Dallas too,” I say.
“Good, good.”
I get photos and video done for PR materials, get my security badge, and meet some of the office staff. Rick Blackmore, the communications dude, meets with me and talks about me getting involved in the community. I know that’s part of the gig, so I’m up for that, although I’m a little confused about this podcast thing he’s set up with some “influencer” chick. I’m not exactly thrilled about being interviewed but he tells me it’ll be fine.
The only thing that’s a problem for me is a visit to a children’s hospital in February. I spent way too much time in the hospital, and I don’t ever want to go back to one. I try to tell Rick that without coming right out and saying that I might puke and/or pass out if I go there, but he doesn’t get it and I think I’ll have to go. Fuck.
I’ll deal with that when it happens, I guess.
I want to explore the area around the hotel and the arena. The first thing I need to make sure of is how to get to the arena. Not knowing things bugs me. It’s only a couple of blocks, so once I have that figured out and my route planned for next time I have to get there, I wander around a bit. Sixth Avenue is wide and packed with unending, noisy traffic. I venture down narrower side streets. It’s weird, but the age and style of the buildings remind me of downtown Winnipeg. It makes me feel a bit more at home.
I find a Five Guys, very useful; a branch of my bank; and a dry cleaner. Soon I’m freezing. January in New York is not like Dallas.
I use Google Maps on my phone, then walk a few blocks to Macy’s. There, I wander the menswear aisles and pick up some sweaters, a couple of hats, and a more casual jacket.
Apparently Easton’s still in town, because Mike messages me the next day that he’s gotten in touch with him so I can go see his apartment and check out the building. I’m sure Easton’s really happy about that.
I haven’t had to use the subway, since I’ve been walking everywhere. It’s been kind of lonely wandering around New York by myself, but I’ve been glad of the chance to get my bearings before the schedule starts up again. So I have to figure out how to take the subway to Easton’s place.
It turns out it’s not that hard, after some googling. The only problem I have is knowing which way the metro card is supposed to go when I swipe it. I get it wrong every time.
I walk along 66th Street, checking out the buildings, until I get to Riverside Boulevard. I’m not sure whether to turn left or right so I guess, luckily correctly, because I’m freezing.
The building’s nice—brass doors, elegant lobby with marble floors, big columns, modern furniture arrangements, and a security desk. The guy at the desk calls up to Easton, then sends me up to the seventh floor.
My muscles are twitchy. My mouth is dry, and I rub my hands together for the entire elevator ride.
I knock on Easton’s door and immediately hear barking on the other side. Easton opens the door hanging on to the collar of a smallish black dog, who’s barking excitedly.
“He’s harmless,” Easton says. “Just excited.”
“Okay.” I keep an eye on the dog as I step inside and close the door behind me. I like dogs, but you never know.
Easton releases him and the dog bolts toward me. I bend and let him sniff my hand and he appears to be satisfied, as he stops barking.
“That’s Otis,” Easton says. “Come in.” His voice is cool and stiff.
What’s his problem? He’s the one who never bothered to come see me after the accident.
“Thanks for letting me have a look at your place.” I follow him into the living room, unzipping my jacket. “Sorry Mike bothered you with this.”
“Not a problem.”
“Hi there!” A female voice calls from the kitchen, and then she walks out to join us, drying her hands on a towel. She’s gorgeous—in a sweet way. Her smile is much friendlier than Easton’s. She walks toward me and holds out a hand. “I’m Lilly.”
“Hey. Nice to meet you, Lilly. Josh Heller.” I shake her hand. I guess this is Easton’s girlfriend.
“Nice to meet you too. So you’re thinking of moving into this building?”
“I guess.” I shrug. “I don’t know the city at all, other than times we’ve played here. It seems like a good location.”
Easton gestures to the window. “You can see 9A—that’s what we take to the practice facility. You can get on it at Seventy-second Street, so it’s pretty convenient.”
“Sounds good. I don’t know my way around yet.” I stroll over to the big windows. “Nice view.”
I turn and catch Lilly watching us, biting her bottom lip. She knows we used to be friends. And aren’t anymore.
“This is the kitchen,” she says, waving a hand. “It’s small, but that’s New York.”
“Yeah, it is small.” I survey the tiny space. Compared to the huge apartment I had in Dallas, this is…well, it’ll be an adjustment.
“I have two bedrooms and two bathrooms,” Easton says, turning away. “The bathroom’s here and the spare room is right here.”
They’re just off the living room. Both are a good size and nicely decorated.
“The other one is down the hall.” Easton strides away and I follow him.
“This is great,” I say. “Lots of room.”