Page 180 of No Line Change
It turned out he didn’t mind giving up a few weeks on the lake if it meant more hockey.
There was a message from his father that popped up. Not a text—his father never texted—but a voicemail that came in while they were in the air. He delightedly read the poorly transcribed French and waited until he was on the team bus to listen to it.
“I’m so proud of you, Henri. You have always been an amazing player, and it’s so exciting that everyone else gets to see that now. Good luck in Edmonton! Win or lose, know that we are all rooting for you and love you!”
He shamelessly listened to it three more times.
“What’s got you smiling?” Dylan asked when they reached the hotel. He still looked half-asleep. Combined with his too-long beard and bedhead, he looked like a caveman. A handsome caveman, at least.
“My dad. It’s been a long time since I’ve believed I was actually making him proud when I played.”
Dylan’s expression soured. “I’m sure he was proud the whole time.”
“Yes,” Henri agreed. “But there’s a difference between the pride you feel when you make the NHL versus when you actually contribute to your team. If I feel the difference, I’m sure he does too.”
“Hen—” But they were being herded off the bus, and Henri got to escape the pep talk or sympathy or whatever it was. He tried to tell himself that he was allowed to accept comfort from Dylan, of all people. He didn’t need to prove himself to Dylan or to his father, because both cared about him outside of what he could do on the ice.
But he really, really wanted to make them proud in this series.
Maybe it’s not about them at all, he thought as he accepted the card key to a hotel room he wouldn’t use. Maybe it’s about proving something to yourself.
turkeytalk (March 20, 2024): THE TURKEYS WON GAME 1!!! I know I know there are still lots of games left in the series but omfg this is a team who has struggled to even make the playoffs in recent years, and they took game 1, round 3 versus the best team in the western conference this season. I know every year I hope for the Cup, but this was honestly beyond my expectations just getting this far…
↪ gobblegoals: it’ll just make it hurt more when they lose
↪ turkeytalk: Oh don’t worry. I remember how bad it was when we tried for the three-peat. So used to winning, only to see it crash around us. But it’s also no fun to always be looking for the loss. Stay positive!
↪ gobblegoals: i won’t be able to relax until the series is done, either way
abqturkeysnhl (May 28, 2024): It’s been a back-and-forth series so far. Game 1 Turkeys Game 2 Mounties Game 3 Turkeys Game 4 Mounties — Tonight is Game 5 and we’re hoping at least tonight the pattern continues. Let’s go Turkeys!
gobblegoals (May 28, 2024): omg this is some vintage everett we’re seeing this series. man’s hustling up and down the ice. forecheck, backcheck. basically played goalie for three seconds while briggs got caught trying to corral the puck on the boards. and did you see that diving play on that goal? terrible clear attempt by the mounties in their own zone, everett dives to intercept it, hits the ice but gets taps the puck towards novak for that backdoor goal. fantastic shit right there.
↪ gobblegoals: and i’m not just saying this because everett has read two of my tweets before. the man is on F I R E
↪ turkeytalk: He wants another Cup. and he’s leading by example as captain. He’s out there doing what the team needs, even if it’s the less than glamorous stuff like covering the point or the painful stuff like blocking shots. The turkeys see Everett laying his body on the line and they’re doing it too. I counted 12 blocked shots and 15 hits that game.
turkeytalk (May 28, 2024): Turkeys win game five. Holy shit holy shit holy shit that puts them one win away from beating the Edmonton fucking Mounties and going to the finals. Holy shit holy shit holy shit
↪ gobblegoals: SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE DO NOT JINX THIS FOR US
The buzzer sounded for the end of the game, and Henri sagged with relief for all of two seconds. In their frustration at the loss, one of the Edmonton players took a shot well at their goalie after the game ended. Unsportsmanlike for sure, but borderline stupid. Henri and the other five Turkeys on the ice—Briggs included—swarmed around the player to show him how very little they appreciated his shot.
No fight broke out despite the encouragement shouted by the fans, angry from having seen their team lose and wanting blood. The refs and linesmen pulled them apart. If they’d just lost or were in Albuquerque, the Turkeys might’ve been more ornery about the whole thing, but they were in Edmonton and had put themselves up 3-2 in the series. There was no reason to do something stupid and risk missing the next game with a suspension.
They’d survived the four minutes they’d been down a man, first because of an ill-timed penalty from Walsh and then after the Mounties pulled their goalie. Henri was exhausted, having played most of that four minutes. Another reason not to get into a fight. He literally didn’t have the energy.
There was a lot of shouting in the locker room, all smiles as the team congratulated each other.
“Fan-fucking-tastic tonight, boys,” Krzysztofek said. That earned a mix of barks, howls, and turkey gobbles. Their coach looked like a weary kindergarten teacher who knew there was no point in calling out misbehavior. After they’d quieted down, he continued: “Not much for you tonight. Great game all around. We fly out early tomorrow back home, and because you fucking earned it, no practice tomorrow. Enjoy the day off.”
The noise started all over again. If Krzysztofek had planned on saying anything else, he’d be hard pressed to get them to shut up again. He waved them off with a bemused look before disappearing with the other coaches.
A day off tomorrow. Henri was already excited for a day of absolutely nothing. Maybe he could convince Dylan to open up the hot tub. Forget an ice bath; a jacuzzi would be divine. He turned to Dylan, wanting to share some of his excitement with his boyfriend, and realized something was off.
As their teammates made loud fools of themselves, Dylan was quiet. When at their dumbest, Dylan might not actively engage in the shenanigans, but he’d joke with everyone about it. Maybe egg them on, maybe just tease them, but he was part of it. After a big win like this, Henri expected him to be at the center of it.
He wasn’t. Dylan was at his stall, quietly taking off his gear.
