“They do,” she agreed with a chuckle.
“So, you thinking you’ve lost your mojo? That’s completely understandable. But if you really want to teach little kids, to fill their spongy brains with knowledge purely so you can feel better about yourself—”
“Hey!”
He grinned. “Then you’re going to have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off—”
“And start all over again.” She was leaning in, watching him avidly.
“Well, maybe not from scratch. But you’re not completely alone, Pepper. Anything you need, I’ll help.”
She ran a finger over his chest. “You’ve already done so much.”
“Right, but we’re friends, aren’t we?” He liked to think they were more, but Pepper was skittish, given her history with Kent.
“Never thought I’d agree, but the Rebels arena seems really far away.”
It did. Going back to that world didn’t really appeal. Here it felt like he could fix someone else’s problems instead of worrying about his own.
His phone vibrated with a FaceTime call from Gwen. “Sorry, I’ve got to get this.”
“Should I …?” She gestured toward the kitchen.
He held her hand. “No, stay. Hey, Gwen! Everything okay?”
“Hi, Bast! I’m sorry to disturb you, but Cecy was worried about you. Any chance you would say hi to her?”
“Of course. Damn—I mean, darn, I’m sorry I haven’t called her before now. Is she around?”
Gwen beamed at him. “Just a sec. Cecy, Bast wants to say hello.”
Cecy appeared, her eyes big in her face. “Hi, Bast, are you okay?”
“Fine, kiddo. Just a little setback.” He raised his slinged arm. “Sorry if I gave you a scare.”
“That’s okay. Grammie said you probably know how to fall properly, like a stunt man.”
He wished. “That sounds about right.”
“And is Rowdy okay?”
He cast a quick glance toward Pepper, who was scooting away on her hot ass, but not fast enough for him. That Cecy was a huge Rowdy fan had completely escaped his mind.
“Rowdy? Oh, Rowdy’s doing just fine. In fact …” He leaned over to frame Pepper in the camera lens. “She and I are hanging out now. Hey, Rowdy, meet Cecy.”
Pepper waved. “Hey, Cecy! So cool to meet you. Big hockey fan, huh?”
“Yes, I am. And I love Rowdy. She’s my favorite.” She tilted her head. “Are you really inside that costume?”
“I sure am. And I promise I can usually skate better than that. Also, Bast will be back in business before you know it.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it.
Cecy giggled. “Are you guys together? Like a couple?”
Gwen could be heard protesting mildly at the nosy question.
“Just good friends,” Bast said quickly, but he didn’t let Pepper’s hand go. “So, what else is going on in Chicago? Has the snow started to melt?”
Cecy spent a few minutes talking about the snow-woman she had built in the yard, which she had dressed in both Rebels and Hawks colors (he’d been hoping she’d get over the Hawks now that he was a Rebel, but she clung stubbornly to the old ways). It was hard to believe she was the same little girl with those dark circles under her eyes from months before, and the sight of her so cheerful made him happy.
After a while, Gwen came back on to tell her granddaughter dinner was ready, and they spent another minute saying goodbyes and promising to meet soon, including Rowdy, aka Pepper, aka his new friend who was definitely not his girlfriend.
“Gosh, that was so cute,” Pepper said.
“Isn’t she?”
Pepper grinned. “I mean, you with her, and how she absolutely adores you. That’s the same little girl you raised the funds for?”
“Yeah, her insurance couldn’t cover everything, and Gwen’s her sole caregiver since Cecy’s parents died a few years back. The money raised helped for Gwen’s accommodations because they had to travel from Rockford while Cecy was getting treated.” He didn’t mention that he’d set up a trust fund for her education as well.
“Oh, the poor thing. What a tough life she’s had in such a short time.”
“Yeah, definitely puts my problems in perspective.”
She looked thoughtful. “You probably do a lot of those hospital visits. I bet there are a lot of kids and families in the same boat.”
He had no doubt. When he heard how deficient the financial support was for Cecy and Gwen, he’d been happy to lend his name to any fundraising efforts. Since he’d joined the Hawks, he’d received innumerable requests to donate to or boost a cause, and as wealthy as he was, there was only so much he could do.
“There’s never enough, but there have to be more ways to help.”
“Your name’s very powerful.”
“You think?”
She nodded. “Definitely. You could put it to anything, and it would be a success. But it’s not just your name.”
“No?”
“The name’s a great start, but you need to have the right temperament to follow through on something like that. And you do. You’re hard-working, generous, empathetic.”
It had crossed his mind already: using his name for something more than the odd fundraising effort. For something that might exist separately from hockey.
“I’ve been thinking about what might happen if my wrist never heals completely. If I don’t make it all the way back.”
“And what have you concluded?” Bast loved that about Pepper. She didn’t rush in with a bunch of platitudes about how he needed to think positive and not assume the worst.
“All my life there’s been one goal—be the best at this sport I’m crazy about. Crush the competition and win everything in sight.” Time away from the game had given him time to think. “But maybe there could be a life outside of hockey.”
A legacy he could leave if this hockey business didn’t work out.
27
It’s been four days since Bastian Durand was injured in his comeback game on Rebels ice, and both the player and the organization have been unusually quiet. Other than a fractious press conference in which Durand was uncharacteristically grouchy (more like his elder brother, in fact), and even going so far as to get physical with a member of the Sun-Times news organization, there’s been no word on when he might re-start rehab or return to practice. It’s almost as if Bast Durand has disappeared off the face of the earth. Efforts to reach him and mascot Pepper Calhoun have been unsuccessful. Why all the secrecy? Is Durand undergoing another heartbreaking wrist-surgery? The fandom would love—in fact, deserves—to know.
Curtis Deacon, Chicago Sun-Times
* * *
Pepper awoke to a rumbling sound off in the distance. She raised her head from the pillow and listened, waiting for awareness to kick in. Her phone’s screen said 10:23 a.m. Late, but then they’d stayed up most of the night.
The sound was louder now, closer to the house, and then it stopped.
Maybe one of Reid’s neighbors was using a snowplow. Pepper wasn’t sure how to feel about that. For four days, they’d been holed up in this snow globe world of their own making. Talking, cooking, hot-tubbing, more.