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“Well, not right now, but you might down the road. And that’s okay. Oliver could land a cool job in Rome, and you’d follow him, put down roots. Have a dozen kids…”

Leaning closer, Georgie smirked. “Definitely not a dozen. Too high a probability that one of them could become a Habs fan.”

Michael laughed into a pensive grin. “But if you and Oliver have kids, and they get their sticky little hands on your hockey photo albums⁠—”

“They’ll be grounded!” Georgie snort-laughed, but her best friend’s smile faded.

“No, but if they do, and they ask who’s the silly guy in the Expos cap…please tell them about me?”

A breath lodged in Georgie’s chest. “Michael…”

“Tell ’em about our adventures and how we loved our team so much, even when it hurt, and how I hope with my entire heart they’ll find a true friend like I did”—his voice cracked—“a friend like their mum.”

A prickly ache teased the back of Georgie’s throat and nose as she gulped back a sob. “Okay, now you’ve done it, Bou.”

“Well?” Michael pressed.

She nodded as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Of course I will. Swear on Sittler.”

FIFTY-ONE

GEORGIE

Eleven days later, Wednesday, June 30, 1993

The last day of classes was a challenging test of Georgie’s emotions. She’d fought hard, keeping herself in check during her final goodbyes with students and staff, but a single glance across the lounge at Eden unravelled her for good.

“Oh, come here, you!” Eden sniffed as she pulled Georgie into a hug.

“I knew I’d lose it when I saw you,” she cried over her friend’s shoulder. “You’ve been my rock since day one, E. I’m gonna be lost without you.”

“You say that now”—Eden shifted back, her eyes glassy—“but once you meet your hockey hero coworkers, it’ll be Shuster who?”

“Never.” Georgie dug into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a travel-sized packet of tissues. She handed one to Eden then blotted her own tears as Laporte sidled over.

“Missing us already?” He winced. “You sure you want that hockey job?”

“Wouldn’t you?” she replied cheekily, earning his nod. “Thanks for the amazing reference, by the way.”

“It’s the very least I could do. I hate losing a teacher of your calibre. On the upside, maybe I’ll finally win our hockey pool.”

Tucking the tissues in her pocket, Georgie laughed.

“September will be different around here.” Laporte extended his hand. “Thanks for everything, Georgina.”

Despite their bumpy relationship, a twinge of melancholy pinched beneath her ribs as they shook and let go.

“All the best,” said Laporte. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too, René.” As Georgie watched him walk away, Eden leaned in.

“God help us if someone quits and he recalls Houdini⁠—”

“Hurry!” trilled Brian from behind. “Escape while you can!”

Georgie and Eden turned, discovering a whole new Brian Sawyer—well, physically at least. Gone were his ubiquitous hair curtains, replaced by shaggy layers, and his stiff button-down, khakis, and loafers had been swapped for a plaid shirt, jeans, and a pair of Converse One Stars. Overnight, he’d transformed from neat and preppy to up-market Seattle grunge. It suited him.

“You leaving for the Hockey Hall, me for Vancouver.” Brian left his backpack on the floor and yanked his tie loose, snorting, “Don’t need this now.”