“Thrifty,” Christian corrected.
“See?” Drew said. “And he makes millions.”
Shane’s head dropped to the table with a dull thud.
Ignoring him, Drew chewed her cookie and said, “You can never be too prepared for your financial future, am I right, Christian?”
The statement succinctly summed up his current personal goals. “Absolutely.”
“Do you have any plans for life after hockey?”
He bit into a cookie and nearly groaned as the sweet, buttery goodness melted on his tongue. “I’m working on some. If nothing else, these injuries over the past eighteen months have given me a push in that direction.”
Shane lifted his head, his eyes wider than usual. “You can’t seriously be thinking about retiring, Reinhardt. You’re in your prime.”
“I’m not thinking of retiring. But a hockey player’s career is on the line every single game. You never know when an injury will put you out for good.”
It was a reality that had kept him up at night, and one of the mental challenges he was battling along with this physical recovery. There was a pause in the conversation as Shane and Drew considered his statement. They exchanged glances that made him feel has though he’d made a conversational misstep.
“So, what is it you’re working on?” Drew asked at last.
Christian took a moment to finish his cookie and sip his coffee before responding. He was about to step outside of his comfort zone. He didn’t talk about his side hustle with many people. But, he reminded himself, that was partly why he was there.
“I’m coding an app,” he said at last.
Drew’s head tilted. “Oh? That’s interesting. What got you interested in coding?”
“My dad, Jesse,” he replied, referring to the man who had entered his life when he was eight and helped raise him into manhood. “He’s a programmer and he’s helping me with the project. He’s the one who suggested a gaming app.”
Shane’s expression brightened. “A gaming app? Paige would love that.”
“I imagine so,” Christian said.
In fact, he was counting on it.
“What kind of game?” Drew asked.
Pushing aside his usual reservations about sharing details about his work, he answered, “It’s an adventure game geared towards kids who don’t typically participate in physical activities to help get them more active and engaged. Players have to perform actions and complete quests to advance. We’re aiming to connect the app to fitness bands.”
“That sounds amazing,” she said as she reached for another cookie. “Are you close to releasing it?”
He nodded. “We’re to the beta testing stage. We’re working on finding ideal testers.”
“Didn’t you mention you work with kids at that center downtown?” Shane asked.
“I do, but they’re not my target market. Most of those kids unfortunately can’t afford smartphones or the fees that come with paid apps. They’re all also pretty active. Most of them play sports.”
“What about local schools?” Drew suggested.
Christian broke down and took a second cookie. “I’m working on that angle. It’s tough to find time to screen large groups like that to narrow it down to just the right kind of kid…those whose parents have expendable incomes, who love playing games, and who would benefit from the fitness side of the app.”
Shane gave him a considering look. Christian struggled not to look away from his friend’s sharp gaze, instead focusing on the bite of cookie in his mouth.
Drew blew on her coffee before saying, “You just described the exact type of clients Paige works with. You should totally talk to her about it.”
“I thought about that when we were chatting about her work earlier,” he said, which was true as far as it went. “Maybe I will.”
Thankfully, the conversation moved on. He figured Shane had some suspicions about the app and the timing of Christian’s outreach to schedule a dinner with him after so many years apart. Christian sure would if their roles were reversed.
But he couldn’t worry about that now. This app was the key to his post-hockey future.
Sure, he was now drawing a substantial salary with The Siege, but he had gone years making the league minimum while stuck in restricted contracts, paying much of that out in taxes, escrow payments, agent commissions, and other NHL income killers.
On top of that, he was helping his parents recover the retirement money they had spent on the sizeable hospital bills they incurred getting his younger brother, Douglas, the treatment he needed for childhood leukemia. He figured he’d need to save about ten to fifteen million to make sure he and his parents were financially secure for the remainder of their lives. As long as he stayed healthy and continued to perform as well as he had the past few seasons, he’d meet that goal in another two to three years.
His recent injuries, however, made him realize that he shouldn’t pin all his hopes on hockey. He had learned at a young age that it only took one unlucky moment to completely change someone’s life. He was going to do whatever it took to prepare for that change, even if it meant enduring some guilt over Shane O’Connell’s assessing looks.
“Thanks for inviting me over,” Christian told his friend as he collected his crutches and prepared to leave thirty minutes later. “I would’ve been happy to treat you to dinner somewhere, but I’m glad I got to see your home and meet your incredible wife.”
Shane smiled and glanced back towards the kitchen where Drew had gone to give them some privacy. “It was our pleasure. Drew couldn’t wait to meet you. Besides, I don’t generally eat at four p.m. when they serve up the Early Bird specials.”
“Ha, ha. Just because I always ate off the value menu when we were kids doesn’t mean I do it now.”
Shane crossed his arms and stared at him.
He laughed. “Fine. So I’m a cheapskate.” He lifted his chin towards the front door. “Mind grabbing the door for me?”
“Sure.”
Christian swung himself behind Shane on his crutches and waited for him to open the door before saying, “It was great seeing you again, O’Connell. Seriously, though, let me take you two out next time. I’ll text you so we can make plans.”
“Sounds good.” Shane reached over and clapped Christian on the back since he had his hands on his crutches. “It was good seeing you, too. Get yourself healed up, would ya?”
“Working on it.”
He maneuvered himself onto the front sidewalk and started towards his car parked in their driveway. He hadn’t gone more than a few feet before Shane spoke again.
“You know, Paige is in the guest cottage.”
Christian paused to look back at this friend.
“If the flickering in her windows is any indication,” Shane went on, “she’s probably up playing video games. It might be tougher for her to tell you no if she sees you on those crutches.”
Unsure what to say to that, Christian glanced in the direction of the guest cottage tucked behind and slightly to the side of the house. He saw the flickering light in the windows Shane had mentioned and realized his friend was right. By the time he looked back at the front door, Shane had quietly retreated inside.