She’d ended up helping the team during the playoff run. Following the hip check she’d given him, he’d scored a breakaway goal in the first playoff game. It had ended up becoming a good luck ritual, with players lining up for the privilege of having Bridget knock them down, but she and Troy never became friendly.
Today she studied him intently as he strode out of the locker room. Not a good sign.
“Good to see you back, Green,” she said. She wasn’t completely convincing. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes squinty.
“Good to be back,” Troy answered.
“Feeling okay?”
Troy eyed her suspiciously. “Are you asking to be polite or is there a reason for asking?” he asked. Bridget had never been one for small talk.
Bridget grinned. “I was trying to be tactful, but I’m not very good at it. I was watching you play, and I wondered if you’d rushed back too quickly.”
Troy suppressed a smile. People had been wondering about that since camp began, but they had all approached the matter delicately. Bridget had always been blunt.
“Did Mike tell you to ask me?”
Bridget squinted at him again. “Mike doesn’t ‘tell’ me to do things. I asked him how you were doing.” She paused.
Troy didn’t want to play games. “And what did he say?”
“He didn’t. So something was wrong.”
Damn. Troy had hoped no one had noticed.
“It’s just the start of camp. Guys aren’t in game shape yet,” he said defensively.
“I understand why the others are being a little careful checking you, but I don’t understand why you’re being so...hesitant. Everyone expected you to come out, I don’t know, mad. You lost a year, but instead of taking it out on the ice, you’re skating around as if you’ve got eggs in your pockets.”
Troy took a step toward her. He was a big guy, and when he wanted to, he could be pretty intimidating. Bridget planted her hands on her hips and set her jaw.
“I’m going to say something,” she began, “and you can take it or leave it. But it’s not something anyone here will tell you. I had a swimmer last year who had cancer. He got through it, but he decided against returning to swimming. There was no shame in it. He just reprioritized his life. If playing hockey isn’t what you want, you can retire.”
Troy gaped at her. Retire? Was she crazy? He wasn’t going to retire. He was going to play. If she had wanted to anger him, mission accomplished. If they wanted him to go out and plaster someone into the boards, just get Bridget to do her motivating speech before a shift, and he’d be set.
“Are you doing psychotherapy now, Bridget? Am I supposed to break down and spill all my problems?” Troy mocked.
“Please, no. I’d need months of therapy myself if I ever got into the mind of Troy Green.” She shuddered.
Troy frowned. She was looking at him with that “poor you” expression that revolted him. He wanted to divert her, quickly. And a perfect distraction popped into his head.
“I do have one problem you might be able to help me with.”
“Girl trouble?” Bridget asked, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Troy wanted to refute that vehemently. He didn’t have girl trouble, and if he ever did, he certainly would never discuss it with Bridget. Just the thought of it made his hair stand on end.
Then he considered. “Well, it’s kind of girl trouble.”
Bridget made a face.
“It’s about a kid.”
“You have a kid? Say it’s not so,” she said with surprise.
That jolted him. Had she found out he couldn’t have kids...? No, she couldn’t. That wasn’t something he’d shared with anyone. Focus, Green.
“No. It’s my neighbor’s kid. She’s a girl, and plays hockey. Well, she did before they moved here, but her mother can’t afford it now and I wondered if you knew any way to get money for her to play. I asked the team’s management, but they don’t have anything they can set up at this point in the season.”
Bridget looked puzzled. “What about her father? And if they live near you, how can they not have enough money?”
“Father’s dead—war vet. But they’re keeping that news to themselves. And I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I’m sure they don’t have money. They’re house-sitting for my neighbor. I don’t think they’re paying rent.”
“Why don’t you just pay for the kid’s hockey? I heard about that endorsement you signed. Surely you can afford it.”
“Of course I’d pay if I could. But the mother wouldn’t go for it.” Troy could imagine Michelle’s reaction if he made that offer.
“How old is this girl? And what’s up with you and the mother?”
“Kid’s twelve, and nothing’s up with me and Michelle.”
“Is the girl any good? And are you sure the mother wants her to play?”
Troy remembered Michelle’s eyes. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure money is the problem. And Angie, the daughter, tells me herself that she’s good. According to her, she’s going to be the first female skater in our league.”
Bridget smiled at that, and Troy caught a glimpse of why Mike liked her so much.
“Why don’t you bring her and—Michelle, was it?—to the game on Sunday? Let me talk to them, find out what they need, and I’ll try to think of something.”
“Yeah, that might work. There’s a boy, too.”
“Do we have to get him into a league, as well?” she asked sarcastically.
Troy shook his head. “Doesn’t seem to like hockey.” Troy thought of the way Tommy watched him. “He’s a little odd.”
Luckily, Troy had succeeded in distracting Bridget enough that he was able to get away from her without any more talk about how he was playing.
And doing something for Angie made him oddly happy. For some reason he hadn’t been able to shrug off the girl’s situation. Maybe because when he bumped into her in the hallway, she looked like a kicked puppy. Maybe because he remembered growing up, poor, moving around...if he hadn’t had hockey, it could have gone badly. He thought Angie might need hockey to give her a strong center to her life.
He remembered how he’d felt when he was afraid he’d never play hockey again. He’d been afraid cancer would take that away. And it still could...there were no guarantees. He didn’t need the reminder of that in Angie’s eyes.
He realized he was going to have to be more aggressive on the ice, too, if he didn’t want the coaches to start asking questions like Bridget’s.
Damn cancer! It had taken all it was getting from him.
* * *
MICHELLE STARED AT the results from her first bookkeeping test, fingers clenched around the ring on her necklace. She heard the other students talking around her. “Oh, I got that first question confused!” and “I had the amortization right but I really messed up the Allowance for Doubtful Accounts.”
Unfortunately, she had gotten everything wrong. She felt nauseated. How could she have messed up so badly?
“Hey, Michelle, how’d you do?” Rin asked.
After two weeks of classes, Michelle had gotten to know some of the other