Page 60 of Tender Heart

“There, there,” he almost coos, but he’s looking at all of us with uncertainty. No one seems to have a better idea of how to deal with it, but it seems to do the trick. Gus blinks up at Obie and cracks a smile, and it’s as though the weird atmosphere in the room finally cracks. Everyone starts to relax, and small laughs bubble out, returning to their pre-game prep.

I hold my new mask in my hands, turning it over a few times to check none of the details I asked to be included were missed. I can’t wait to wear it.

“Nicky.” Crosby draws my attention then, and I set my mask aside. My captain gestures around the room, and the teambegins to sift through their lockers and personal belongings. Coach steps in, Robbie and the rest of the staff filing in behind him. Apprehension prickles up the back of my neck, and I work to push it down as Crosby gives me a lopsided smile. “We’re really proud of you. It’s been nothing short of an honor to watch you work your way back and be a part of that journey.”

“Thanks, I couldn’t have done it without you,” I say honestly, emotion catching in the back of my throat. The guys have been with me through workouts and skates. Or sometimes just as silent support on the hard days when I struggled to put my gear on because my anxiety was riding me. I let my eyes roam over every person in the room, grateful beyond measure for all of them.

“We wanted to get you something to mark your return,” Crosby continues. I open my mouth in protest, but he holds up a hand, silencing me. In his grasp is an index-card-sized piece of paper. He hands it over, giving me a moment to read what’s written. The words swim the longer I look at them, and my nose stings as I fight back tears.

It’s an American Red Cross certificate of completion. Crosby is CPR certified.

Before I can say anything, Crosby steps away for Charlie to take his place. Charlie hands me the same card with his name on it.

Then Gus.

Obie.

Leo.

All of my teammates bring me their cards before the training staff and coaches follow suit, Robbie and Coach coming last. Their cards are different; an additional line crediting them with AED certification.

I give up fighting the tears, their salty streaks drying on my cheeks as I stare in wonder at the team’s gift. It’s the promise of life. Of possibility, and it’s nearly too much.

“Rise,” Coach begins, gripping my shoulder. “It’s what we say in this team. What our fans chant at games. A belief born out of myth and legend to honor the name of the team. But now it means even more.”

“Midnight, rise!” Crosby yells.

“Rise!”

The word echoes through the room, my teammates’ faces streaked with their own tears or locked in solemn pledge. I grip the cards and look up at Coach.

“Rise,” I tell him, feeling the buoyancy of hope it brings. Coach nods once in affirmation at that and turns his attention to the locker room door.

“One last surprise for Nicky tonight. A special guest to give us the lineup.” Coach waves a hand, and my daughter streaks into the room, Bea following behind. Her eyes are red, her complexion blotchy, and I know she watched the entire scene. She mouths, “I love you,” when she looks at me, and I mouth it back.

Natalia has climbed up into Coach’s arms, settled on his hip, and is waving at all of her favorite people. Bea weaves her way to stand beside me, her hand slipping into mine and holding tight.

“Starting off for us tonight is Crosby,” Natalia starts, her voice light and confident. Crosby claps in acknowledgment, and she beams.

“Next to him, Leo…” Natalia pauses for Leo to clap and salute at her. “Then Bonesy!” She doesn’t keep the elevated joy from how she calls his name. Charlie claps and blows her a kiss, making Nat giggle.

Coach readjusts her, and she calls out Obie and Gus. Then she twists to look at me. I squeeze Bea’s hand, grounding myself like I can keep my composure after barely getting it back.

“And in the net, my daddy, Nikita Baladin!”

The room explodes in applause, and I catch Natalia when she launches from Coach’s hold into mine. I snuggle her close, Bea leaning over us to lavish more love on her.

It feels good.

The arena is deafening as I skate to my net, but I don’t let it bother me. I ditch my stick, catcher, and blocker on top of the netting. I focus on the stands behind the glass, searching the sea of Midnight merch until I find who I’m looking for.

A few rows up from the glass, Bea holds our daughter on her hip. In their twin twenty-eight jerseys, Natalia waves a similarly dressed Floppy at me with a toothy grin. Her other arm is looped around Bea’s neck, and my wife puckers her crimson-painted lips to blow me a kiss.

The crowd around them twists as I give them singular attention and skate closer to the glass. I wave at Natalia before removing my mask. I track Bea’s eyes as they follow the new, custom mask I hold up for her inspection. They well with tears as she examines it. She didn’t see it during their earlier appearance in the locker room. This is my surprise for her, the woman who turned my world upside down.

The sides have puzzle pieces that trail around the curve to the large airbrushed puzzle picture of an anatomical heart.

A heart that beats stronger than ever.

THE END