Remi absorbed that. Was that because of his ADHD? Sports were a great way for kids to learn self-discipline and focus. Maybe it had been especially important for him.
And then Phoenix scored.
Although they were in the midst of a Wolves crowd, Laura and Doug cheered the goal because Tag had scored it.
Remi nibbled her lip as they announced the goal. “What does that mean when they say assisted by?” she asked Doug.
“Carver passed it to Romanov, who passed it to Tag,” he explained. “So they get credit for assisting with the goal.”
She’d seen all those stats—goals, assists and a whole lot more she couldn’t figure out - GP, PIM, +/-, PP. ABCDEFG. Whatever.
The crowd was momentarily subdued by the goal, but the Wolves came back strong and peppered the Stars goaltender with a series of hard, fast shots that had everyone in the arena screaming and groaning in unison.
“Damn!” Remi cried when another shot missed, her hands in fists. Oops. She slanted a grimace at Laura. Laura just grinned. And then one of the Stars got the puck and shot it all the way down the ice.
“Icing,” Laura announced.
““What does that mean?”
The whistle blew. “If a player shoots the puck all the way down the ice and a player from the other team touches it first, it’s icing.”
Remi nodded. Okay.
The puck was brought back to the Stars end for another face-off. Jason skated around on one foot, then the other, waiting for the ref to crouch with the puck. Remi admired his grace on skates. She’d learned to skate as a little girl, but had never been so confident or graceful as he was and she could only admire the incredible skill it took to move that fast, stop that quickly, turn that sharply on those two thin blades. Amazing.
The first period ended with the score one-nothing for Phoenix. “Going to get beers,” Matt announced, standing up. “Remi, can I bring you one?”
“You’re not old enough to drink here,” Doug told his son, pushing him back down into his seat.
Matt grinned sheepishly. “I could get away with it.”
He probably could. He certainly looked older than nineteen with his massive size.
“I’ll bring her a drink,” Logan said, giving his brother a punch as he passed by him. Matt punched him back. Remi had to laugh. “Wanna come for a walk with me, Remi?”
The flirtatious gleam in his eye sizzled over her skin. “No thanks,” she said with a smile and a shake of her head.
“Damn.”
“Logan, she’s Jason’s friend,” Laura scolded. He grinned and kissed his mom’s forehead as he scooted past her and then bounded up the stairs to the concourse two at a time with his long legs.
“I’ll go with him,” Matt said.
“No beer,” Doug said.
“Dad! I’m legal at home.”
Doug rolled his eyes as if he knew he didn’t have a hope of controlling his son. “It’s true,” he said, shaking his head ruefully as he and Remi and Laura sat down again.
Laura shifted in her seat so she could talk to both her husband and Remi. “Jase is playing well,” she said. “He won every face-off.”
How had she noticed that?
“Yup,” Doug agreed. “Maybe Tag’s going easy on him.”
“He would never do that.”
Doug grinned. “Probably not.”
“But they’re going to have to do more forechecking,” Laura said.
A little lost, Remi listened to them analyze the game. God, Laura knew so much about the game, she sounded like a television commentator. After watching four sons grow up playing hockey their whole lives, she supposed Laura probably knew as much about it as they did. Remi sighed.
Jason scored a goal in the second period and the Wolves went into the third period with the score tied one-all. But despite intense pressure and a lot of end-to-end action, the Wolves could not put the puck in the net. The crowd was up and down with each opportunity, cheering, groaning, booing missed penalties.
“They need to change their lines up,” Doug muttered. “Put Jase with Daviduk and Lalonde.”
There were only three minutes left in the game.
“What happens if it’s a tie?” Remi asked.
“They play five minutes of four-on-four overtime, and then if it’s still tied, they have a shootout.”
“They have to win,” she murmured. Tension gripped her, every muscle tight, her stomach in knots. She was getting a headache from biting her lips, her hands ached from clapping and her throat was raw from cheering.
And then the Stars took a penalty. The crowd went crazy.
“Damn,” Laura muttered. “I mean, oh great.”
Remi turned to her. “Tag just took a stupid penalty,” Laura said. “The Stars play a man short now, with him in the penalty box.” Her brow creased. “So for two minutes the Wolves have a power play—a man advantage.”
Remi nodded. “That’s good, though, right?”
“It’s a great chance for them to score.”
“Oh, hell,” Doug sad. “They’re gonna pull their goalie.”
He nodded to the bench where the Wolves’ goaltender had skated over to talk to the coach. The coach gestured wildly and the goalie nodded, squirted water into his mask, then skated back to the net.
“He’s going back,” Remi said.
“He’ll come out when they get the puck down in the Phoenix end.” Doug explained. “Goddammit, that’s risky. Why the hell is he doing that? They’ve already got a man advantage.”
They all sat forward to watch Jason take the face-off and, damn, this time he lost. The Stars got the puck and immediately headed toward the Wolves net, tossing it back and forth with neat passes, the puck cracking against their sticks. But the Wolves defense knocked the puck away from Jason as he crossed the blue line. He and a Star raced into the corner and fought for the puck along the boards and Remi cringed at the bashing and crashing that went on, a vision of Jason bleeding on the ice flashing through her memory. She shivered.
Finally the puck came loose, but a Star slashed at it and sent it spinning down the ice.
“Icing!” Remi cried.
“Uh…no.” Laura patted her hand. “They have a penalty so it’s not icing.”
Remi frowned. Jesus. She wasn’t used to feeling so stupid and uninformed. She wanted to slide under the seat. This game was more complicated than she’d realized. But then Jason swooped in and picked up the puck. The crowd screamed. Remi gripped her hands tightly together. Go, go, go, Jason! She sucked on her bottom lip as he deked around a defenseman, came to a fast stop in a shower of ice in front of another and slid around him too, and then he was on his own, racing toward the Detroit net.
“Go!” Remi screamed with the crowd, the noise in the arena so loud it hurt her ears. She surged to her feet along with everyone else. “Go, Jase!”
He lifted his stick, took a swing and blasted the puck at the net. Remi tensed, waiting for the red light—please, please—but the goalie snagged it in his glove and fell to the ice. The whistle blew and the play halted.
“Damn!” Remi realized she was clutching Laura’s arm and hastily released it. “Sorry.” She sagged and dropped into her seat.
“That’s okay!” Laura flashed her a smile. “That was so close!”
Jason skated off the ice and another player prepared to take the face-off.
Remi glanced at the clock. Only thirty-two seconds left in their power play. Only a minute and six seconds left in the game.
Do or die.
She so wanted this for Jase. She twisted her fingers together, gnawing her bottom lip again.
She looked down the ice. The goaltender was out of his net.
“He’s out,” she said to Doug and he nodded. “Why’d they do that? Isn’t that just asking for Phoenix to score a goal on them? How can they play with no goaltender?”