Page 1 of Goalie Interference

ONE

AUGUST 25TH—GREEN BAY, WISCONSIN

Ander Bouchard

It’s hard to put into words what it feels like to have the Keeper of the Cup knock on your door at ten in the morning with the Stanley Cup in tow. This is my second time experiencing that knock and I still struggle to contain my excitement. And also my annoyance.

Where the fuck are you?

I send to my brother, Brandon, over text.

Get your ass home. The cup’s here.

With a huff, I place my phone into my back pocket, then walk to open the front door of my parents’ house to let the keeper in. “Mom! Dad!” I yell out. “The cup’s here!”

“Send him out back!” my dad yells. He and my mom are setting up the backyard.

I open the front door.

“Ander!” the cup keeper exclaims. He’s an older gentleman, dressed in a crisp black suit, wearing pristine white gloves. Behind him, two more men are holding the case the Stanley Cup travels in between them. “Where are we setting up?”

I hold the door open for them. “Let’s take it out back, Joe. We’re gonna set it up in the garage.”

My dad and I, along with the two billets who just moved into the house, spent the last three days cleaning the garage up for this.

“We’re not taking it on any adventures today?” Joe asks as they all follow me through the shotgun hallway of my parents’ bungalow that leads us through the house to the kitchen and the back door.

“Nah,” I say. “Just a party here today. Though I’ve invited pretty much everyone in Green Bay. Open invitation and all.”

I can hear the sigh of relief leave Joe’s lungs.

“Rough couple of days?” I chuckle. I can only imagine what Joe’s been going through with every one of my teammates’ days with the cup. Last year Tavish took it sky diving. This year might be more subdued. He has his day with the cup planned to coincide with his wedding next weekend.

“Oh, you know,” he says. “Lots of travel. Lots of clean up. Gavin and Connor had a moose eating out of it. That was… interesting.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I laugh again, shaking my head.

“I don’t think it was intentional,” he says. “They were using it as a salad bowl, then got distracted and forgot to bring it inside for the night. When I arrived in the morning to retrieve it, well, there was a moose finishing off their leafy greens.”

“At least it wasn’t a bear.” I turn and shrug at him as we enter the kitchen.

“Oh, there was one of those, too,” Joe says with a sly grin on his face. “It was nice to see Garrett again.”

My laughter booms as I clap him on the shoulder. He buckles slightly under my hand. But I can’t help myself. He surprised me with his quip about Gavin’s dad. The Keeper of the Cup has always come across as this very buttoned up NHL persona. But honestly, Joe is quite funny when he wants to be.

“Is that Joe?” my mom asks as she comes into the kitchen through the back door. She’s still wearing her apron, and the smell of her Sunday morning cinnamon rolls are permeating the kitchen from where they are cooling on the counter.

“It is indeed,” Joe says. He walks up to my mom and shakes her hand in hello.

She, of course, pulls him in for a hug. Then, looking at me as she holds the back door open for Joe, she asks, “Where’s your brother?”

“Fuck if I know.” I grab my phone out of my pocket to see if Brandon has replied yet. Predictably, he hasn’t. So I call him. He answers on the third ring. “You better not be late because you’re riding Ryan’s dick.”

“Ander!” My mom cuffs the back of my head. She looks at Joe and apologizes, then looks back at me. “What is wrong with you?”

“A lot,” Brandon says through the phone. “And no. And also, I’m not late. Your party is literally an open house planned for the entire day.”

“Yeah, but you’re my brother. You should be here now. The cup just arrived.”