Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Baden smiles and moves back to his chair. When he sits, he immediately launches into conversation, and I know it’s so I keep focused on him.
“We have our first team practice tomorrow,” he says, crossing his forearms on the table. “We’re trying out one more goalie—Drake McGinn—this afternoon, but most of the team is assembled.”
“It’s amazing the speed at which this is all happening.” A waiter walks by carrying two plates, but I barely pay him any attention, excited to have an inside scoop into the rebuilding of the Titans. “What can the fans expect to see?”
Baden leans in a bit. “This is obviously top secret for the moment, but word came through not long ago that the league had an emergency vote and adopted Brian Brannon’s proposal for a points freeze, retroactive to the date of the plane crash. It had to be a unanimous vote, and apparently Mr. Brannon had to lean on a few owners, but it passed.”
“Oh my gosh,” I exclaim. “That’s incredible.”
“And they’re going to keep the freeze in place until this Friday.”
“So you’ll have a team ready to play by Friday?”
Baden’s smile is bittersweet. “We’ll have a team. Whether we’ll be ready to play is anyone’s guess, but we’ll be out on the ice.”
I can’t even imagine what that’s going to look like. Baden told me last night while we chatted over chili that most of the players were being pulled from the minors with a few out of retirement. Of course, I knew our team’s best player, Coen Highsmith, wasn’t on the plane, so we have one good ringer at least. But you can’t make an entire team successful on one player. It’s a cohesive unit where every cog in the wheel has to operate fluidly.
Baden goes on to tell me about the players who will be returning. The tentative roster was released today, and there might be a few late additions, like Drake McGinn.
“Will he have to go through a tryout process?” I ask.
He snorts and shakes his head in amusement. “We’re the ones going through a tryout. He doesn’t have much interest in coming back into the league, so I have to do some convincing.”
The waitress returns with bread, but we still haven’t looked at the menu. Baden points out he has limited time, so we quickly open them and peruse, making off-the-cuff choices.
A Cobb salad for me and buffalo chicken salad for him. When the waitress leaves to put in our order, I realize it didn’t bother me that she approached, and I don’t have any residual panic. I feel completely at ease with Baden, knowing he’s just on the other side of the table and nothing in this restaurant is going to hurt me.
More importantly, nothing will hurt him.
Reaching for the bread basket, I ask, “Why will you have to convince Drake McGinn to come back?”
For the next forty-five minutes, we talk nonstop. He tells me about Drake’s ex-wife accusing him of illegal betting and being drummed out of the league. He tells me about his parents in Montreal, and how they took turns staying with him in Phoenix during the weeks after his initial surgeries. Like me, he’s an only child, so we compared notes on the pros and cons of being such. I told him about my family’s furniture business and while I’m incredibly proud of my parents and their hard work, how it provided a good life for us, I have no interest in being a part of it. This was to my parents’ disappointment, but they also want me to be happy.
I tell him about Frankie and how hers is the one other place I’m willing to travel to. I explain she’s the one who pushes me hard while my father admittedly coddles me.
“Did you have someone like that in your recovery?” I ask.
Baden’s expression crumbles slightly as he nods. “My best friend was Wes Hollyfield.”
“Oh my God,” I breathe out in sympathy. Wes was a Titan, killed in the crash.
“He visited me a few times, but almost constant calls and texts. He was the one pushing me hard while my parents were a lot more passive. So I understand what you mean in the differences between Frankie and your parents. I think both are important, though.”
“I’m so sorry, Baden. I didn’t know about your relationship with Wes. You’ve suffered so much.”
“I have,” he agrees. “But I’m processing. I grieve when I need to, and I try to focus on the future. Wes would want that for me.”
“Is there any part of him being on this team that led you take the position?” I ask.
“Yeah. I had him in mind when I made the decision.”
“Then he was still being your friend, even from Heaven.”
Baden’s smile is soft. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I think you’re right.”