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Despite the lingering ache in my wrist, a tiny fracture isn't going to keep me from the ice any longer.
Now, with the playoffs heating up and the Western Conference Finals against the Seattle Sparks breathing down our necks, I need to have my A-game sharp as the blades on one my skates.
Here in Seattle, it seems the rain isn't the only thing in the air.
It's Gabi. She’s always in my thoughts.
Being almost eight months pregnant, we decided together that she’d stay behind in Chicago for this series.
I thought it would help clear my mind and let me zero in on our goal of winning. It's done anything but. The last conversation we had about our "relationship"—I can't stop replaying it in my mind.
The tension between wanting to make things real and the fear of ruining everything is almost as intense as the pressure of the playoffs.
And now, with this baby on the way, everything feels more tangled than a pile-up in the crease.
Thoughts about everything, Gabi, the baby, the playoffs, are all vying for position in my mind as I sit at tonight's team dinner less than twenty-four hours away from Seattle Game One.
We’re packed into a long table at a local seafood joint, the smell of fresh fish and lemon butter filling the air. The chatter around us is loud and boisterous. Just as I'm about to dig into my crab legs, Halstead clinks a spoon against his glass loudly, instantly catching everyone's attention.
"All right, break it up, boys! I've got pressing questions for our newly injured star here,” Halstead says with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I can already tell I’m in for it. “So, Jacob, how's Gabi doing with the whole pregnancy gig?”
"I don't think she'd call having a baby a 'gig', Halstead." I grab a crab leg. "But she's doing great. Not that it’s any of your business, of course.”
“Oh, come on, we all know she’s the real MVP keeping you in check,” Manning chimes in, earning a round of laughter.
“And how do you feel about becoming a dad? Ready to trade your skates for a diaper bag?” Parker adds, winking.
I roll my eyes but can’t help chuckling. “Honestly? It’s terrifying. But also exciting. Gabi’s been amazing, though. She's a trooper through and through." Her dark hair and green eyes flash through my mind, and I can feel myself smiling. I crack the crab leg in my hand and place it on the plate. "She’s got this glow that—”
“Bet that’s just the heartburn,” Parker interrupts, inspiring a few snickers.
Halstead leans over, feigning seriousness. “Listen, Jacob, fatherhood is like hockey. You’ll skate around in circles, occasionally get body-checked, but it’s all worth it for those goals.”
“Except you can’t send the baby to the penalty box when it's crying at three a.m.,” Manning quips, nudging our star goalie and resident grump Evan Daniels.
“Yeah, speaking from experience, that crying doesn't stop until they're...well, still waiting on that," Daniels retorts dryly.
Parker chimes in. “Better get used to weirdness on the regular, my friend. Fatherhood is a wild ride.”
Daniels glares at Parker over his nearly empty plate. "It's not that bad. You just learn to roll with it."
Halstead snorts. “Easy for you to say, Daniels. You’ve already been through the gauntlet. Any sage advice for our soon-to-be dad over here?”
Evan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Sleep now. All you can. Bank it if possible.”
Halstead smirks, not missing a beat. “A sage indeed. The Gandhi of goaltending.”
I shake my head, grinning. “Thanks, Evan. I’ll take that into consideration.”
Manning nudges Halstead. “What about you, man? Your wife's pregnant, ain't she? Any words of wisdom for taking care of a pregnant woman?”
Halstead raises a beer in the air, brows lifted towards the sky. “Just keep your head down, nod a lot, and never, ever eat the last piece of chocolate in the house. Seriously, dude, that’s a death wish.”
I’m laughing along with the guys when Giovanni, sitting beside me, leans in. His trademark grin is missing, replaced by a more serious look. "So, Jacob," he begins, a little too casually. "How's Gabi doing lately? Any exciting plans coming up for the two of you?"
"Oh, you know, she's busy with...running the world and all that." I try to keep my voice steady, but I can see his eyebrow arching higher.
"Busy, huh? And you two, everything still going as 'planned'?" He emphasizes the word “planned” in a way that suggests he’s not just asking about our calendar.
