Page 2 of Off the Post
My gaze skips over the small but clean space and I wave a mental goodbye to my sad apartment, as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m going to accept the job and show the world I am worthy of it.
As if right on queue, a screen pops up with an incoming video chat box on my laptop. The handsome but goofy face of my brother appears in front of me. I sigh and click Accept.
“Speak of the devil, and the devil will appear.”
Tanner’s loud guffaw and wide smile has me immediately grinning back him. His hair’s all slicked back and wet, so he probably just had a recent shower or took a swim in his pool. Although I can’t imagine it’s warm enough for a dip in the pool in Vancouver at this time of year. At least, not for the likes of me. Tanner, on the other hand, is… unique.
“Hey, Ali-kins,” he greets, his thick French-Canadian accent filtering through my kitchen. Having grown up with his mom in Montreal, Quebec, his speech represents that area of the country. His expression and tone are bright and cheery, even though the Vikings were just eliminated from the league playoffs last week. That optimistic attitude is why he’s a fan favorite.
The loss was a sad, bittersweet ending to a terrific season made possible in part by Tanner but most importantly by the guy in the net, Soren “The Wolf” Wolfenspiel.
Tanner’s always great about getting me tickets whenever they play San Francisco’s team, the Soaring Eagles. The game from a few months ago was exciting to watch, but they lost 3-4 in the end. And while the backup goalie held his own, it was obvious that the team was missing The Wolf, out due to an injury.
Still, I’ve followed Tanner’s career, rooting for him from the sidelines and through the large screen television he bought me just for the occasion, and he’s done the same for me.
Case in point? Right now.
On the screen, he runs his hand through his hair, making it drip water onto his face, then scrubs his fingers over his now clean-shaven mouth and blinks his long lashes in that golden retriever manner of his.
“Hey, bro. What’s shaking?”
He pulls a face and cocks his head to the side. “Ready to make it official, Ali-gator?”
Am I?
Ugh. Why do I have such mixed feelings over accepting this opportunity?
It’s the perfect job, the perfect timing, but my self-confidence is shredded to pieces and at an all-time low. I don’t know if I’m perfect for the role.
So, no. I may not be ready.
“Tanner… ” I start, uncertainty filtering through the vulnerability in my voice. I probably sound like a whiny, bratty little sister. “The only reason I got this offer is because you’re my brother.”
A loud howl leaves his lungs and practically shakes my Mac with its volume and intensity.
“Ali-gator, you give me far too much credit. Even though I would do anything for you, this wasn’t just my decision. I gotta follow all the rules and regs just like everyone else, so I stepped back and let the board decide. And they all agreed.” He pauses momentarily, scratching at the scruff on his chin and glancing off camera. “Well, except for one. But she’s just a crotchety old… chairwoman? Chairperson? Anyway.”
I drop my head in my palm and grumble over the fact that I already have an adversary. “Great. That’s just great.”
“Ah, fuck her. Everyone else—and most importantly, Leanne—sees your potential. And Leanne fucking loves you.” He pulls out the sound like it’s a piece of sticky caramel off his tongue. “She has complete trust in you to run the communications and events for LTLFK.”
Leanne Lee is the foundation’s executive director. I met her three times during the interview process, one of which was in person when they flew me up for the final interview. Leanne is one of those do-everything-and-make-it-look-easy kind of women. She graduated at the top of her class, has been in the nonprofit sector for twelve years, and is a busy mom of two young kids.
I’ve become a fangirl already and have deep admiration for her tireless commitment and the coolness that drips like honey from her pores.
She is what I aspire to be in ten years.
“Leanne clearly doesn’t know me that well.”
Tanner’s bear-sized hand flits past his face and snorts. “But I do. You’re the smartest person I know, eh.”
I roll my eyes, snapping back my snarky response. “That doesn’t mean much, bro. Hockey players are your only means of comparison. And they get their heads bashed against the boards on the regular.”
Tanner throws his head back in laughter like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. When his laughter finally ceases—my brother has always laughed easily, where I’m the more serious of the two of us—his assessing gaze reads over my features.
We don’t look much alike. He looks more like his mother, Camille, and I tend to take after our dad. But although we lived in different holds, and different countries, we’ve always remained close, even after our dad died.
Tanner may come off as a frat boy gone amuck sometimes, but he and his mom didn’t have it that easy after Dad died and the child support payments stopped. He still managed to stay focused on hockey, but that’s why this foundation is so important to him.
