Epilogue
I bounced Brett on my knee as we sat in our box at the Devils season opener. I had decked Brett out in his very own Devils jersey and for the occasion. Just after I had the baby, Brandon had gotten a jersey especially made for our son. He had the jersey made to look just like a miniature version of his. It even had Lyons on the back.
He'd had one made for me as well and I wore it with pride.
Some of the guys had gotten together and convinced the team to provide boxes for their families. I sat in the seats right in front of the glass with the some of the other wives. They all cooed at Brett and made faces. The baby talk was the most prominent sound around me until the players took the ice.
I reached into my diaper bag, which I kept in the empty seat next to me, and pulled out the earmuffs that I'd gotten to protect Brett from the loud noises. They weren't terribly necessary in the box, but I wasn't taking any chances with his hearing. I fixed them over his ears, running a finger across his chubby cheek tenderly.
Brett stared at the skating players, riveted. He had a big smile on his face as he pointed to the ice and made gurgling noises. A few times I could have sworn that he looked right at Brandon and recognized him. At one point he even stretched both arms toward Brandon and said "Da."
I watched Brandon skate around in the warm-up and then smiled as I saw him joking around with Walter by the bench. It didn't look like Walter would be getting any playing time any time soon, but he was a permanent part of the team. It seemed that, to him, that was enough. "Besides," he'd said when we talked about it, "Brodeur could get injured at any time and then my services would be needed." Personally, I hoped he didn't play all season. I loved Walter, but Brodeur was a force in the net.
When the game started, I gave Brett a bottle and kept my eyes focused on the puck. In a soft voice, I explained the rules to Bretty, even though I knew he was too young to really understand what was going on.
It didn't matter how young he was. If Brandon had it his way, Brett would be skating before he was even old enough to walk. I was pretty sure that it would break Brandon's heart if our son decided he preferred football or soccer.
Between periods, I found an empty bathroom and changed Brett's diaper. It already felt natural to find ways to take care of Brett during the games. I didn't want to miss anything, because I was afraid that Brandon would score a goal, the second I walked away from my seat. I hated it when I missed his good plays.
Brett slept through most of the second and third periods. I put him in his carrier at my feet and took the opportunity to really get engrossed with the game.
I watched the puck as Brandon brought it down the ice as though it was attached to his stick. He didn't lose control of it for a second, even as the other players came up next to him and poked for it. He hit the blue line and sped toward the crease.
He whipped around the defensemen on his breakaway, lining up to face the goalie. He flicked his wrist slightly and shot the puck into the net. The goalie never even got a piece of it.
I cheered a little too loudly and Brett opened his eyes for a second, looking at me through the thin slit between his eyelids. He looked almost like he was questioning me.
"Daddy scored a goal," I said, grinning down at him. He yawned and closed his eyes again. Okay, so maybe he wasn't interested in hockey yet. He would be. We would make sure of that.
After the game, we met Brandon outside. He was in a good mood. He'd played a great game. The team had won. It was a great start to his first official season as a New Jersey Devil.
He took Brett from my arms as soon as he had put his things in the car and kissed his son's head lightly. "How'd you like the game, big guy?" he asked with a smile.
"He slept through most of it," I said. "But he was quiet and he opened his eyes when you scored that goal."
"He'll love it sooner or later," Brandon said as he gently lowered Brett into his car seat. He strapped Brett in and got behind the wheel, his hand taking mine over the gearshift.
"You up for a little fun tonight?" he asked, running his thumb over the back of my hand.
"Depends what you mean."
"It's a surprise," he said with a light laugh. "You're not tired are you?"
I shook my head. "I can stay up a little longer."
We drove in silence until he pulled the car into a parking space in front of his rink. He unlocked the door and carried our skates in. I got Brett out of the backseat and followed him, wondering what he was up to. We couldn't really skate, could we? I wasn't about to leave Brett on the players' bench. I didn't like for him to be out of my sight for any longer than necessary.
Brandon laced up his skates and took the baby from my arms again. He eased himself onto the ice, skating slowly. I looked at him horrified. Was he carrying my baby on the ice?
"Woah. Wait a minute. You can't skate with him. What if you fall?"
"I won't," he said easily. "Now put on your skates and come join us."
I slipped my feet into my skates, keeping one eye on Brandon. He was looking down at Brett, a dreamy smile on his face. I thought I heard a little giggle, but I wasn't sure.
I stepped onto the ice and skated quickly in their direction.
"Are you sure this is safe?" I asked as I stopped beside them.
"How do you expect him to like hockey if you keep him off the ice?" he asked. It wasn't lost on me that he was repeating the very words I'd used the last time we'd skated together. I suppose that if I thought it was safe for me to skate when I was pregnant, I could trust Brandon's steady arms and legs with Bretty.
"Okay, point taken," I said. "Just don't go too fast, okay?"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Brandon said as he pushed himself away from the wall and kept a slow pace around the ice. He watched Brett's face as they went around in circles. "Look at him," he said when I caught up to them. "He likes it."
I looked down at Brett's face and saw a clear smile on his lips. He looked almost like he was laughing as the light wind blew his peach fuzz hair around.
"Of course he does. He's our little hockey star."
Brandon stopped next to me, his hands tightening around the baby. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine for a moment. "Are you happy?" he asked when he pulled away.
I smiled at him for a moment. "I can honestly say that I've never been happier."
A/N: Here it is. This is the end of it. What do you think? Thanks for reading. –Bridge