Page 101 of Home Ice

Kieran’s brother’s road turned to gravel the last half mile, and the parking was a cut field with a teenager in a reflective vest waving vehicles into rows. He took one look at my truck and put me at the end of a row where nobody could box me in. I liked him immediately.

Somebody had mown the entire three acres within the last two days. The stripes where the mower changed directions were still visible. I inhaled the cut grass scent.

Two tents stood on the highest ground. The stakes were driven to full depth with the guy ropes at a proper angle. I checked it all as a matter of habit. My parents hosted a family reunion every August in Saskatchewan.

“Well?” Niko asked.

“Good work. The stakes are right.”

“I’ll let Kieran know the tents passed inspection.”

“Don’t tell him that.”

We walked up to the first tent and left our gift on a long table with the others.

Half the team was already there, wearing suits instead of gear. Cross stood with his wife, surveying everything. Sully was beside Pratt, telling a story with both hands. Coach Markel stood at the edge of the tent, sipping a beer.

Somewhere behind the house, something made of glass shattered. I heard the word “Shit,” and the catering crew laughed.

“Rafe.” Heath walked up to us and gave us each hugs. “You found the place okay.”

“I did, and the teenager handling parking placed me facing out.”

“That’s Kieran’s brother Danny’s kid. He’s taking everything seriously.” Heath looked back toward the house. “Also, something just broke back there, and I’ve decided I don’t need to know what it was.”

“Wise,” Niko said.

“It’s my wedding day. I’m allowed to ignore minor catastrophes.” Behind him, near the drinks table, a man in his sixties in a gray suit stood talking to two women.

Heath followed where I was looking.

“Yes, that’s the guitar uncle. He asked again in June,” he said. “Kieran said no again in June.”

“How’s he taking it?”

“He’s telling everyone he’s saving his voice for the dance. We hired a band. Nothing requires his voice. We’ll intervene if necessary.” Somebody called Heath’s name from the house. He squeezed my shoulder and left.

We found seats on the aisle, four rows back. Rook and Varga came up the aisle and took the row ahead of us.

The music started. It came out of two speakers on stands. Heath came out from the side of the house with his brother, and then Kieran came out with his. Everyone stood.

I didn’t hear most of the vows. I tried to focus, but then Niko squeezed my thigh, and everything jumbled in my brain.

The officiant said something I missed, and the crowd laughed. Kieran said something back that only Heath heard, and Heath laughed like nobody was watching.

In the row ahead of us, Varga sniffed. He didn’t hide it. He even dabbed at his eyes with Rook’s pocket square.

Beside me, Niko’s shoulder rested against mine, a full, warm line of contact from arm to elbow.

The officiant finally got to the part everyone was waiting for, and Heath kissed Kieran. Somewhere behind us a cork popped early.

We sat with the rest of the team. Max walked over to us, carrying two trays.

“One of these goes to the buffet,” he announced, “as a gift from my mother. She sends her congratulations. The other is technically for Rafe, so you’d better eat fast.”

Dinner arrived family style. It was grilled chicken, sweet corn, and a potato salad with dill in it. Ma Gregory’s spanakopita was still warm somehow, and the phyllo shattered the same way it did at Sunday dinner.

Somewhere between dinner and cake, the sun drifted low on the horizon and sent gold light under the tent edge. It was the perfect shooting light Max always talked about.