Page 9 of Before the Fire
So we do steaks first. The conversation moves the way it always does, from hockey to gossip to hockey again, and I keep it going because that's what I do. Coop talks about his daughter's soccer season. I ask Westy about the new apartment. Remember that Kyle's sister is getting married in September and ask about the venue. This is the thing I'm good at. Keeping the room warm, making sure everyone feels included.
Somewhere between the main course and the whiskey, Gibby leans back and looks at me. "So. Ikonen."
"What about him?"
"I played against him for years when I was in Pittsburgh. All those division games." He swirls his glass. "That guy is something else on the ice. You don't notice him, and I mean that as the highest compliment a goalie can give a defenseman. You don't notice him until you realize every shot you wanted to take got taken away two passes ago. He's already where you're going before you know you're going there."
"That's what I've heard."
"He's going to be named captain," Gibby says. He glances at me. "No offense, Ash."
"None taken. He should be captain." I mean it. Nearly two months of texting Avi has given me enough to know that much. The man has a presence, even through a phone screen. I smile and add, "I'll take alternate."
"You two been talking?" Gibby asks.
"Yeah. He's… not what you'd expect." I leave it there because I don't need Marco's voice in my head right now telling me I've mentioned Avi four times.
Gibby nods. "He's quiet, but he's solid. Had everyone's back in the division. Guys respected the hell out of him, even the ones who didn't like playing against him." He pauses. "I was surprised Philly left him unprotected. That was a bad call."
"Their loss," I say, and I mean that too.
The conversation shifts to Fontenot. The table knows him. Of course they do. He's been on this team for three seasons, sat at dinners like this one. And they were there when things went down last year with Volkov.
"That's going to be fun for you," Westy says with a grin that suggests he finds this hilarious and is grateful it's my problem.
"They're adults. They'll figure it out."
"Fontenot held a grudge against a referee for two years because of a tripping call," Rico says. "The man does not figure things out."
"He's not wrong," Coop says. "Fonty's got a long memory."
"How's Volkov?" Kyle asks.
"Don't really know him," I say. "But from what I've seen on tape, the guy can play. If they can coexist, they could be dangerous together."
"Big if," Gibby says.
It is a hugeif.
I've been thinking about it since the roster started taking shape, turning it over the way I turn over line combinations. Two guys with history, real history, that gets replayed on ESPN anytime our teams play. And has been mentioned in numerous articles since rumors of both of them joining the Atlanta Firebirds started cropping up.
I'll be in the room when they see each other for the first time. That's part of the job I signed up for, even if nobody put it in the contract.
The whiskey comes. Then more whiskey. The conversation gets looser, warmer. Westy does his impression of the Gales' old coach, which has gotten better with age. Rico shows us a picture of his dog. Coop tells a story about a road trip from our rookie year that I'd forgotten, or thought I had, but as he tells it the details come back and I'm laughing harder than I have in months.
When it's time to go, the goodbyes happen the way goodbyes happen with hockey guys. Standing outside the restaurant in the cool night air, hugs that are brief and hard, the backslap that says everything the words don't.
"October," Coop says, pointing at me. "You better be ready."
"I'm always ready, Coop."
"End of October," Rico confirms. "We're coming for you."
"I look forward to it."
Gibby just nods. Shakes my hand. Holds it for a second. "Take care of yourself out there."
"Always do, Gibby."
