The Inside Edge: Chapter Eleven

It was during the second-period break that things really came to a head. Though she’d asked Danette if she could get anything for her, that woman had remained briskly polite: thank you, no.

            Gaining her feet as the players headed off the ice, Brianne was hardly surprised when Shana joined her. Matching their steps seamlessly, it wasn’t until they’d reached the main lobby that Shana leaned down to whisper in Brianne’s ear.

            “Okay, obviously not right now, but I demand the full scoop.”

            Turning her head a fraction, Brianne blinked innocently. “On what?”
            “Whatever the hell is going on. What is your role with this team?”

            Brianne blew out a long, slow breath. “It’s hard to explain.”

            “We’ll have plenty of time tomorrow morning if we each show up to work half an hour early.”

            Knowing there was no way out of the cross-examination she could clearly seeing coming ahead, Brianne merely shrugged. “If you insist. I can’t promise you’ll be entertained.”

            “Oh, I’m not worried about tha—”

            “Ms. Kelley, is it?”

            At the sound of a new voice in their conversation, Brianne gritted her teeth. Shana was no doubt eating this up.

            Despite this, dutiful to the stranger’s voice ringing in her left ear, Brianne turned toward the tall man standing beside her, with his hand held out in greeting.

            “Yes. And you are…?” Taking the proffered hand, Brianne gave it a brisk shake.

            “Mike Callaghan. I met you briefly at the last game,” he said, chuckling heartily. “But there were so many of us, I’m not sure how you’d be able to remember!”

            “Oh. You must be one of the parents…”

            “George’s dad.”

            Brianne smiled. “You have a great kid there, Mike.”

            If a bulky big-boned man could be accused of blushing, Brianne just may have accomplished it in that moment. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes shifting down to his feet. “I’m pretty proud of him.”

            Brianne smiled emptily.

            Mike coughed. “Well, listen, I just wanted to come and say hi and….well, you know, thank you for, ah, for all you’ve done for the boys.”

            “Honestly, I don’t think I deserve that much credit,” Brianne felt compelled to say. Shrugging her shoulders stiffly, she let her eyes flick toward the concession booth. Anything to escape that penetrating gaze. “They’re the ones teaching me how to skate.”

            “And you’re teaching them how to work together,” Mike returned with a simple eloquence that wasn’t lost on either woman listening to him. With a pat of one of his beefy hands, he smacked Brianne’s shoulder. “We just may have a winning season thanks to you.”

            Biting her lip at the unexpected rise of irritation at the words, that the only thing that mattered was that these kids whip together enough to win again, that winning was what was most important, that it was the only thing that made her work with them meaningful, Brianne pasted a quick smile on her lips.

            “Oh, well…umm…”
            “Listen, I hate to interrupt, but if I don’t get some nachos in my belly soon, I’m going to get really grumpy.”

            At the interruption of Shana’s voice, Brianne felt an upswing of pure love spring forth from her chest. Turning toward her, Brianne smiled before shifting her gaze back to Mike. “She’s right. We really better scurry or we’ll miss the beginning of the third period.”

            “Of course, of course,” he said, nodding jovially as both women took a parting step backward. “Well, it was nice meeting you. Officially.”

            “You too.”

            “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

            Brianne lifted up a limp hand in goodbye. “I’m sure,” she agreed weakly before she felt Shana’s fingers curl against her forearm and all but drag her away and toward the considerably shortened food line.            

            “I owe you,” Brianne hissed under her breath once they were a safe distance away.

            “Oh, I know. I’m thinking this year I’m talking the Fourth of July off work.”

            “You’ll get it.”

            Laughing easily, Shana only paused long enough to shoot Brianne a quick look. “Maybe it would be better if we got to work forty minutes early tomorrow.”

            “God.”

***

“Right right, these are the boys who taught you how to skate. I got that part.”
            Taking a long drink of coffee from her cup, Brianne shrugged casually. “Yeah. I mean, it was actually pretty adorable at first—”

            “How they came to your rescue?”

            “Yes.”

            “But?”

            “It’s evolved now. And it’s kind of…weird.”

            “How helping you made them a team?”

            Nodding slowly, Brianne set her cup down on her office desk. “Yeah. I guess. Certainly, that’s what Mitch thinks. It was why he started letting their lessons run into his practice times. Because, by focusing on me and not on school competition, they were working together.”

            Shana whistled. “That’s kind of amazing.”

            “Well,” Brianne sighed out, unwilling to put too much stock into it. “I’m not sure about all that.”

            “You’re like the team mascot.”

            “Correction.” Lifting one finger, Brianne waved it in Shana’s face. “I’m the secret weapon.”

            “Well, whatever you are, it’s pretty damn impressive.”
            “Okay, okay,” Brianne said laughingly. “Take it down a notch or two. This isn’t some made-of-TV movie.”

            “Good Lord!”

            “What?”

            “Aging yourself much?”
            Brianne grinned. “Look, if I can help these kids heal whatever breech exists between school rivalry…”

            “And get them a championship title—”

            “That part means nothing to me.”

            Shana sighed. “Not much of a sports fan, are you?”
            Brianne stilled. “I guess not.”

            “Winning isn’t just about keeping score. It’s not just about ego and cheering fans and throwing people up on your shoulders. It’s a metaphor for life. For learning how to get through the tough times, how to work together with the people in your life, to understand how to lose and how to win and how to always try to better yourself…”

            Brianne nodded. “Well, then, okay, in those terms I’m all about them getting to the championship games. But.” Holding up a hand before Shana had the opportunity to respond, Brianne leveled her with a matronly stare. “But, I’m still not about them necessarily winning the championship. As you said, learning to lose is just as important.”

            “But not nearly as much fun,” Shana muttered under her breath.

            “Still—”

            “Still,” Shana interrupted. “It’s okay to let it be fun, too.”

            Brianne grabbed her cup of coffee again. Lifting it up to her mouth, she let it cover the smile skirting up the corners of her lips. “It would be fun.”

            “It would be fantastic.”

            “Well…”

            “I only have one question still,” Shana insisted.

            “Shoot.”

            “What’s up with Danette?”

            Brianne sputtered as she tried to choke down her coffee. “Excuse me?”

            “She shut off like a proverbial light switch when that blonde came around.”

            “And that’s entirely my point. It’s not just these kids that have to work together. The parents, the community itself, is angry at this merge. They’ve divided themselves as surely as this team once did. The rich part of town co-mingling with the poor? The shame!” Brianne shuddered mockingly. “They want the old ways back, so in a way, they’re acting like nothing’s changed. They don’t talk to each other, they don’t engage… It’s still an us-versus-them mentality.”

            Shana inclined her head. “So there you have it.”

            “Huh?”

            “You want to be bigger than just a state championship, right?” Brianne didn’t trust the glint in Shana’s eyes. “Then make your impact even larger.”

            “You want me to personally heal the rift between a community that I have no personal investment or history within?”
            “I think you may be the only person who can. And really,” Shana insisted before taking a bite out of her blueberry muffin, “I think that’s something to consider.”

            Brianne sighed. “That’s a huge undertaking.”

            Shana considered that. “Yeah. But I think you’ll do it anyway.”

            Crumpling her napkin, Brianne threw it halfheartedly at her assistant. “But hey, no pressure.”

            In response, Shana only laughed.       

***

            If Brianne had hoped that the mania with the parents as to her identity and influence on the team would eventually die down, she was doomed for disappointment. It was Thursday evening and though she hadn’t actually intended to go to yet another hockey game—after all, she did have her own life to lead, or at least to start leading—try as she might, she couldn’t quite get Shana’s words out of her head.

            Not that she was deluded enough to think that she had some special power over these people. Not that she was egotistical enough to want to have any sort of power over the people of the hockey community…but maybe, just maybe, if the team did continue to play well together that would eventually rub off on the parents.

            After all, nothing brought a group of sports-minded fans together like winning.

            These thoughts tumbling disjointedly through her head, Brianne got home for work with just enough time to change into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. Whipping a sweatshirt over her head as she locked up her apartment, she stifled a telling sigh at the sight of her neighbor, as she ever was, bent over her small garden.

            Keeping her eyes straight ahead, Brianne pretended to ignore her. And for once, it seemed, her neighbor was inclined to play along. Though her head snapped up at the sight of Brianne walking past, she kept her lips smashed pertly together before bowing back down to the seedlings cradled between her gnarled fingers.

            “Maybe that’s a god omen,” Brianne considered as she backed out of her spot. But within minutes of entering the hockey arena, she was forced to acknowledge that perhaps she’d been overly optimistic.

            Five feet inside the building and Crystal, seeming to have materialized out of thin air, was suddenly standing at Brianne’s right elbow.

            “Hi! Oh, good, I’m glad you could make it today,” the blonde said. Smiling eagerly, she nodded toward a group of parents huddled together at the large bank of windows looking out onto the arena from the main lobby.

            “Hi. Well…whenever I get the time free,” Brianne mumbled, still somewhat nonplussed by the exaggerated welcome by a veritable stranger.

            “I’m sure the boys will be happy to see you,” Crystal said laughingly. “Certainly, we can’t get Jeffrey to shut up about you when he gets home from practice on Sundays.” She twinkled over at Brianne again.

            For her part, Brianne managed little more than a weak smile in return. She wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. She wasn’t entirely sure that Crystal wasn’t being passive-aggressive.

            “It’s too bad they don’t have open skate before each of their practices,” Crystal chattered on, happily uncaring about the decidedly one-way conversation as she maneuvered both women toward the arena doors.

            “I’m not sure my body would be able to handle that,” Brianne returned. “I, uh, I’m still a bit wobbly on skates.”

            Crystal patted Brianne’s forearm sympathetically. “Yes, Coach said those kids have taken to their role of teaching you how to skate very seriously.”

            Brianne nodded. “Yeah. It’s taken a few icepacks…”
            Crystal laughed as though Brianne had said something outrageously funny instead of mildly witty. “Well, listen, as I said the other day, when coach told us you were new to town—there’s always a place for you to sit with us if you want. I promise, we’re a fun bunch of people and we’re all so curious to know you!”

            “Oh, thanks. I’ve, ah, actually been sitting with Danette Stevens,” Brianne said, making the introduction as casual as possible. “I suppose I could see if she wanted to switch over to where you guys are…?” Letting the words dangle questioningly, Brianne waited for Crystal to respond.

            Crystal’s face stiffened but only momentarily. With a flip of her hand, she smiled. “Of course. Though I don’t suppose she will.”

            “No?”
            For the first time since she’d latched herself onto Brianne, Crystal’s gaze shifted. “Oh, you know how it is. It’s like back in college. The first day of class you pick a seat and you know, you just sort of stay there.”

            Brianne nodded. She sincerely doubted it was anything of the sort. “Hmm.”

            “But by all means, invite her to come and join us. We’d love the company, I’m sure.”

            Now Brianne was sure she heard a passive-aggressiveness entering Crystal’s voice. Shrugging off the feeling, she reminded herself that Rome wasn’t built in a day and creating a relationship between these parents wasn’t going to happen overnight, either.

            “I’ll do that.”

            Crystal smiled cheekily. “Okay. Shall I save you a spot?”

            Brianne stalled. “Well…I, um, I already promised to sit with Danette. So I guess it depends on her.”

            Crystal pouted cutely. “Fine. But next game, how about sitting with us?” Wagging a finger from her free hand in front of Brianne’s face, she giggled. Again. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”

            “Ah. Yeah, sure…okay.” Brianne wasn’t sure how she was going to manage that.

            Still, breathing a sigh of relief as she watched Crystal walk away, Brianne considered that perhaps the other woman’s analogy hadn’t been quite that far off the mark; she definitely felt like she was back in school. Just not college. The reek of segregation felt more like high school. The popular kids and the outcasts—the in-crowd and the outsiders—and for some unexpected reason, she was being pulled between the both of them.

            Entering the arena, she made a beeline for Danette’s solidary form. She was determined not to pick sides. She was determined to maintain a neutral stance.

            But half an hour later, Brianne was no longer convinced of this edict. Though she felt oddly responsible for protecting Danette’s feelings, though she felt oddly fixated on befriending her despite Crystal’s unspoken permission to follow the status quo and reject that instinct—Danette was making it damned hard.

            She’d hardly bothered to say hello to Brianne when that woman had plopped down beside her at the start of the game. Shifting her attention resolutely to the rink, she’d all but acted like Brianne wasn’t even there.

            “So, is this team any good?”
            “Good enough.”
            “I heard the boys have a tournament coming up soon. Is Charlie getting excited?”

            “I’d suppose so.”

            “It’s not in town though?”
            “Nope.”

            And on and on, Brianne had tried to infuse a friendly sort of banter between herself and Danette and Danette had steadfastly shot her down. By the end of the second quarter, Brianne was tempted to just get up and go find Crystal. Even if that woman was a bit overbearing, at least she would provide a sense of reception.

            Squaring her shoulders, because really, enough was enough, Brianne decided to skip straight to the point. She got the sense that was how Danette worked best: with blunt, honest speak. “Hey, are you upset with me?”
            Sighing a bit, Danette still didn’t bother to grace Brianne was so much as a peek. “No.”

            “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting a bit…cold.”

            “You don’t have to sit with me.”

            “Huh?”
            “I’m not a charity case.”

            Brianne’s eyes widened; still a small part of herself recoiled at the words, at the guilt they inspired. “No, of course—!”

            Danette turned finally, her eyes narrowed in a scrunched face. “I’m used to it.”

            “To what?”

            “To being alone. Doesn’t bother me.”

            Brianne took a moment to find her words. Still, when they came, they were a little more aggressive than she’d have preferred. “Are you sure? Because you seem pretty bothered to me right now.”

            “Only because—”

            “Because?”

            “Look, if you want to sit here do it for the right reasons.”

            “I am. But you’re making it awfully difficult, practically ignoring me.” Brianne was surprised by the vehemence in her voice. She wasn’t usually a confrontational person and she wasn’t altogether prepared for the stab of irritation eating at her sides. It wasn’t like she was personally committed to this team, to this woman, to any of it.

            Danette snorted.

            Though she told herself not to take it seriously, that it was Danette who was hurt, Brianne felt her own face heat up. “If you’d rather I not sit with you, just say so. If I’m bothering you…”

            “Oh, jeez.”

            “Well, really. I thought…” Brianne shook her head. “I enjoyed watching the first game with you.”

            This was met with a deep sigh. “Me too.”

            “Well then?”

            “Crystal and Bill are rallying all the parents around you. They want Mitch to put you on the team.”
            “Huh?”
            “As some kind of assistant coach, I guess.”
            Brianne blinked stupidly. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. I can barely skate a straight line.”

            “Doesn’t matter. Frank and Coach can do that.”

            “But what…that doesn’t make any sense…”

            “Those parents, they’ll stop at nothing to win.”

            “And so you’re mad at me? This is the first time I’ve heard anything about this…” but suddenly Crystal’s comment from earlier floating back over Brianne’s mind: something about Brianne being able to make it to all the practices.

            “Not mad. But I know those folks. They get what they want and right now, they want you. Soon enough, they’ll be inviting you to their potlucks and hanging around with you after the games, chatting you up during downtimes…”

            “Okay. Well, no one has invited me to be a member of the team and even if they did…I don’t understand what that has to do with me sitting beside you. Or being your friend as well.”

            “I’m not one of them. They’ll push me out. Convince you that I’m not the right sort of parent to be hanging around with.

            “I’m no sheep, Danette.”

            “And I’m not rank beginner at this.”

            “So you’re just going to lay down and take it?”
            “Not worth the fight. I’m just here to watch my kid.”

            Brianne bit her lip to keep from saying anything she’d regret. “Have you ever, you know, really gotten to know them? Maybe you’re as wrong about them as you think they are about you.”

            Danette laughed. “Never been invited to get to know them. You’re new here so you don’t get it, but that invitation is required.”

            “But you were invited. Crystal told me so. She said they’d save a spot for both of us at the next game if we wanted…”

            Danette shook her head. “No, you were invited. I’m just collateral damage as far as they’re concerned.”

            Brianne blew out a tired breath. In that moment, she absolutely despised Shana. How the hell was she supposed to bridge this gap?