| �Hi, John, it�s Brielle Rucchin from the Penguins.� Brielle sat in her office chair, twisting the phone cord around her finger. �I�m fine, how are you? That�s great. Listen, I need a small favor. We got Micki DuPont in the trade today and I was calling around to see if anyone had any tapes of the Flames.� Brielle heard a small knock on the door frame and looked up to see Colby standing there. �Can I come in?� he asked quietly. Brielle nodded and waved him in. She held up a finger as she tried to finish her conversation. �You do? That�s great, is there any way that I could get a copy of them? Thank you so much.� She paused while John spoke, and mouthed �Sit,� to Colby, who was standing near the wall nervously. Colby shut the door and obediently sat on the chair opposite Brielle. �Is there anything I could do for you?� She paused for a moment. �Yes, I do have tapes of Spezza, we played him not too long ago. He�s a fiesty kid, I�ll tell you that much. Belongs in Ottawa, not in Binghamton, he�s really offensive-minded. He�ll be in the NHL by the end of the season. I�ll get them in the mail tomorrow morning. Thanks a lot, John, I�ll let you go. I�m surprised you�re even still at your office. Yeah, it�s getting really late, I�m probably gonna head home soon. You have a good night too, bye, John.� She hung up the phone and looked up at Colby. �Assistant Coaches network,� she said with a shrug, trying desperately to avoid his eyes. �We all look out for each other.� �Yeah.� Colby cleared his throat. �Look, Ellie, I�m gonna get straight to the point. I�ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I was talking to Steve for a while. I already talked to Eric, who seemed rather frightened when I cornered him before,� he said with a slight laugh. �But anyway, I just wanted you to know that if you and Eric are gonna try dating or whatever, then I�m not gonna be the one to stop you.� Brielle smiled. �Thank you, Colby,� she said. �That really means a lot to me.� Colby gave her a half smile. �Yeah� Don�t worry about it. You and Eric seem to have something� And hell, if I can�t be with you, then I�d want Eric to. He deserves someone like you after his last girlfriend.� Brielle�s eyebrows forrowed in confusion, but before she could get a word out of her mouth, Colby stood up. �I gotta go, if I wanna be awake for practice tomorrow, I should get some sleep.� �Probably. That is, unless you want me to call you and threaten to bench you like I do with Scudsi every morning,� Brielle said with a small smile, standing up to follow Colby out the door. Colby laughed as he turned to leave. �Nah, I don�t think so,� Colby said. �Scudsi is in a league of his own, I would hope that I never join him in his laziness.� Colby paused. �Everyone left, except for Eric. He�s in the lounge. I think he fell asleep on the couch, I could be wrong though. Have a good night Ellie,� Colby said, walking out the door. �Goodnight, Colby,� Brielle muttered, watching him walk down the hallway toward the parking lot. She hesitated for a second, looking into her office at the pile of files that contained information on Micki. �Screw it, I�ll look it over tomorrow,� she muttered, walking back into the room to grab her car keys and duffel bag containing her workout clothes from earlier. After locking up her office, she headed to the lounge to see the television on, and Eric on the black leather couch in front of it. He was asleep, stretched out across the couch, his arms crossed behind his head, the Adidas flip flops he wore around the locker room sitting on the floor near his legs, which were crossed at the ankle. Brielle smiled at the sight, memories of her childhood sweeping over her. Eric�s father had been a goalie in Pittsburgh when he retired from the NHL. He had met Brielle�s father when their family moved from Pittsburgh back to Montreal. Brielle�s father accompanied her to a few practices for her first pee-wee team, which was a girls� team that Eric�s younger sister Annie was on. Eric�s father brought Eric in with him when he picked up Annie from practice one day, and when they walked into the rink, Brielle was begging her father to join a different team because she was the oldest girl on the ice. Eric overheard Brielle�s pleas, shrugged his shoulders and said �Why don�t you join mine?� Eric�s father thought it was a great idea because he was the assistant coach for the team, and after convincing Brielle�s father, she and Steve joined Eric�s team. Steve only stayed a few weeks before going up to the next level, as he was the oldest on the ice. The rest is history. The instant she saw Eric stretched out sleeping on the couch, she was reminded of his habits of falling asleep wherever he dropped when they were children. The two families lived less than a block from each other, and the children often spent the night at each other�s houses on weekends and during the summer. When Eric started whining that he was thirsty or hungry, Brielle would get eventually annoyed and get drinks or snacks for the two of them, and by the time she came back into the living room, Eric would be stretched out on the couch, sleeping soundly. She walked over to the couch and sat down on the chair across from it. Oddly enough, the soft sound of her sinking into the leather next to him was enough to rouse Eric from his slumber, yet the television blasting the video for Justin Timberlake�s �Like I Love You� five feet away didn�t even make him stir. �Hey you,� he muttered, opening his eyes and looking over at her with a drowsy smile. �I was just taking a nap. You done with all your stuff for DuPont?� �Not really,� she confessed. �It�s late, I�ll do it tomorrow morning while you guys are practicing. By the way, you were snoring,� she pointed out with a smile. �I was not!� Eric claimed, sitting up. �Yes you were, you know you snore, you�ve snored since you were eleven years old,� Brielle said, taking a seat next to Eric. Before Eric could say a word, Brielle put her head on his shoulder. Eric sighed, knowing that he wasn�t going to win this argument, and put his arm around her. �It�s almost midnight,� she said. �We have practice and a game tomorrow.� �I know. But I don�t wanna move, it�s more comfortable here than it is in my bed,� Eric muttered, leaning on Brielle and shutting his eyes. He was clearly falling back to sleep. �Hey,� Brielle said, giving Eric a slight shove. �You have to go home and pass out there. And I have to go home and pass out at my house.� �Why?� Eric asked, the same whine tingeing his voice as it did when they were kids. �Because we have practice in nine hours, and if we want to win against the Flames, we both need at least eight hours of sleep.� Brielle stood up and pulled Eric to his feet, the whole time he was whining. �Baby, go home and get some sleep,� Brielle said, leaning up to give Eric a quick kiss before leading him to the door. �You awake enough to drive?� she asked when they got outside. �I am now,� Eric said, shivering. �It�s fucking cold, I�m awake.� He turned to Brielle, who was unlocking the door to her rental car. �We need to get you a new car,� he said, eyeing up the rental. �I don�t want you driving this one all winter.� �Yeah,� Brielle agreed. �We�ll go next week, if you�re not busy.� �Next week is fine,� Eric said, giving Brielle a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead. �Sleep tight,� he said, getting into his Cherokee. �Goodnight.� ~*~*~ �We�re playing like shit.� Brielle and Glenn stood on the blue line, watching the team practice the next morning. Glenn visibly winced when he heard Brielle�s observation. �I was hoping that I was the only one to notice that.� �No,� Brielle sighed. The team was sluggish for some reason, and she couldn�t quite put her finger on it. Micki DuPont had joined them that morning, and was one of the few that was actually hustling to get to the puck. In the scrimmage that was taking place, Micki had scored three goals within about ten minutes. The only thing that aggravated Brielle about it was that he was a defensemen. She was happy that Micki was scoring, but was annoyed at the rest of the team for not taking any initiative. �We�re gonna lose tonight,� she said, looking at the team and shaking her head in disgust. She turned to Glenn. �The Flames have an entire team of Micki DuPont�s, and we only have him. Right now, the only decent guys that have Penguins jerseys on are Micki, Bucky, Kotsy, Murls, Toby and Eric. We can�t survive on two D-men, two right wings, a center and a left wing.� �I know,� Glenn mused. �Should we try the tactful approach or the untactful approach?� �If being tactful involves yelling at them to pull their heads out of their asses, it�s not gonna work and we both know it,� she replied, shaking her head. �We can�t afford to be losing these games. Not this late in the season, not if we don�t want an early summer.� Glenn sighed. �Then I guess our only other choice is to pray.� Glenn watched as Colby crashed into the boards after a missed check on MacDonald. �And pray hard,� he muttered, watching Colby stand up and rub the back of his head with his gloved hand. ~*~*~ Brielle pinched the top of her nose, her eyes closed, listening to the crowd boo the team out of aggravation. When she let go of her nose, she looked up at the scoreboard. Flames 3 � Penguins 0. She closed her eyes and silently counted to five out of frustration, trying to figure out what to tell the team to light a fire under them. She glanced into the stands and saw her brother and Marc, watching the game with frowns on their faces. She read Steve�s lips as he told Marc that �this is not the team I saw the other night.� Steve and Marc�s flight back to Anaheim was the next morning, and Brielle didn�t want them to leave with bad impressions of her coaching skills and her team. But she had no idea what to do in a position like this. Glenn was being his usual stoic self behind the bench, not saying much and letting Brielle make most of the calls. She had been making more and more calls lately, and taking part in more and more scrimmages and practices lately; the sudden overturning of the head coaching duties was confusing to Brielle. She certainly wasn�t complaining, but she was definitely questioning why. She looked out onto the ice, watching the game take place before her. Colby was having a particularly bad shift; he had turned over the puck to the Flames three times, and the only reason they didn�t get a goal on their three shots on net was because Tally saw the puck coming a mile away. He had witnessed the turnovers and had yelled at Colby each time he came anywhere near the net. Better Tally than me, she thought, biting her lip out of frustration. She whistled Colby over to the bench when he skated by. �Meloche, get out there for Army,� she said, putting two fingers to her right temple to try and ease her newfound headache. She watched as Eric rose to his feet and jumped over the boards, trying to concentrate on the game and ignore her headache. Colby sat himself down next to MacDonald and sighed, hanging his head in self pity. He knew he was having a bad game, and as much as it bothered him to admit it, it was partially because of Brielle. She seemed perfectly happy with Eric, and more than anything, Colby wanted her happy� But he wanted to be happy in the process, and being with Brielle made him happy. It killed him to sit back and watch Brielle cuddle with Eric on the couch after practice, and it killed him every time they kissed when they didn�t think anyone was watching. Mac snorted when he saw Colby sitting by him, hanging his head. With his eyes still cast downward, Colby sighed and asked, �What now, Mac?� �I just noticed,� MacDonald said matter-of-factly, �that Eric seems to have been replacing you lately. Off and on the ice.� Colby saw red. He looked up and glared at MacDonald, and before he could say a word, Brielle�s head whipped toward the two. �Knock it off, Mac,� she spat out. �You wanna be benched? We don�t need you nearly as much as you think we do. Keep up the bullshit. I fucking dare you.� She turned her attention back to the game, where Murley was skating frantically toward the goal in the final seconds of the second period. She silently began praying, and sure enough, the puck found it�s way to the back of the net. She let out a breath she had been holding, and looked to the roof of the arena and muttered, �Thank you.� On the next face off, the seconds ticked away and the period ran out. She followed the team to the locker room, giving them a few moments to collect themselves before she gave her �pep talk.� �Murls, nice goal. Toby and Eric, good hustle, nice passing. Micki and Bucky, keep doing exactly what you�re doing.� She looked around the room at the men who sat on benches in front of her. �The rest of you� Get your acts together and pull your heads out of your fucking asses and get three more goals and win this fucking game. We cannot afford to lose games so late in the season if we want to go to the playoffs. I�m sure none of you want to be playing golf in April, so get your asses in gear. There were all of maybe six guys on this entire team that came here ready for a hockey game, and one of them is Micki and he was ready to pound our asses into the ice before he put on a Penguins jersey. We�re damn lucky he�s on our side, because if he wasn�t, we would be even more screwed that we are right now. You have twenty minutes to not make bigger fools of yourselves than you already did. So get out there and win the fucking game, and I�ll be your friend again after it.� After her speech, before any of the guys said a word, she retreated to her office. She expected Glenn to give his speech and join her there, as he usually did. Within a matter of moments, he joined her in her office. She had laid her head on the desk after popping two Advil in her mouth and downing them with a swig of water, trying to reduce the ringing in her ears. She lifted her head a few inches and let it drop. �Back so soon?� she asked, closing her eyes as Glenn shut the door behind her. �Yeah,� he said, taking a seat across from her. �Brielle, I have to tell you something.� She kept her head on the desk and her eyes closed. �What�s that?� she muttered, wishing she could catch a quick nap before the next period instead of discussing the game with Glenn. If her headache persisted through the third period, she wouldn�t be joining anyone at Brews Brothers that night. �I�m resigning as head coach.� Brielle�s eyes shot open. She lifted her head from the desk, ignoring the pain that shot through her temples as she blurted out, �Why?� �Because it�s time I stopped,� Glenn explained. �They hardly ever listen to me anymore. They listen to you. You�re their friend, their companion� you�re Eric�s girlfriend, Toby�s best friend� They listen to you. They just don�t listen to me anymore.� �Glenn-� �That�s not the only reason,� he continued, not giving her a chance to protest. �As much as it pains me to admit it, you�re better qualified than I am to coach such a young team. I�m getting old; as much as I love coaching, I�m beginning to see that my methods aren�t gonna work with twenty-one and twenty-two year old kids.� He gave Brielle a meaningful look. �Your methods work.� Brielle shook her head. �Why not wait until the end of the season?� she asked. �We have a good chance of winning the Calder�� �And your name deserves to be the first woman�s name on it as head coach.� Glenn held up his hand when Brielle opened her mouth. �No if�s, and�s or but�s. After tomorrow�s game, I�m done, and I�m naming you the head coach.� |
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