Delayed Penalty (Crossing the Line, #1)(32)

My dad had a local repair shop and did mostly routine maintenance on cars and race cars. Our small town was known for a race track called Willamette Speedway, where he spent a good amount of time when he wasn't with Andrew at the field. Baseball was our sport, just like hockey was the Masens' family sport.

We sat down around the kitchen table, and over bites of syrupy goodness and sips of coffee, I explained what happened to my family and how Evan had come to see me nearly every day.

"He wasn't always such a good guy," Caitlin said. "Don't let him fool you. He can be an *."

"Caitlin…" Sam sighed, rolling his eyes at her use of words. I kind of giggled. It sounded exactly like the conversations at our table growing up.

The thought of what Evan was like before I met him had always lingered in the back of my mind since the first time I saw him. Was he himself around me?

"Well..." Caitlin tried to defend herself, "...what about the time he was stuck in Orlando and you had to go get him?"

Judy laughed. "Evan's gotten himself into his fair share of trouble, yes," she agreed and then went onto explain the reason behind Caitlin's remark. "When Evan was playing in the Major Juniors, some of the older boys on the team thought it would be funny to get Evan drunk. That was fine, but then he called me at three in the morning and said, 'Don't freak out but I may be lost.' So naturally I freaked out that my sixteen-year-old son was lost."

"Where was he?"

"Orlando."

"Oh, wow." I giggled. "So how did he end up in Orlando?"

"Well, he'd apparently had enough of the party scene and got in a cab intending on coming home."

"Home where?"

"Well, clearly not Pittsburgh. He told the cab driver he lived in Orlando." Judy shook her head remembering the night. "Two buses and four hours later, he was next to me with his head hanging in shame, asking if I thought McDonald's would be open."

I could totally picture him doing that.

"Do you guys go to his games often?" I asked, the thoughts of watching a live game surfacing again. When I was younger, and Andrew was playing baseball every other night, that was what I did. I would sit out there for hours just watching him, entranced at his talent and love for the sport. There was something about the dedication to something like that. I felt the same way about dancing. There was nothing better than putting all of yourself into a performance and then nailing it, knowing you gave it everything you had. If you put enough dedication into something, it became a part of you and engrained into every fiber of yourself.

"We go to most of the games that are on a weekend because of travel time. It's a long drive, and Caitlin is still in school. It's hard having him in Chicago, but it's better than having him on the West Coast."

Sam shook his head. The motion reminded me of Evan when he smiled. "Still can't believe the Penguins didn't grab him." I could tell just by his dejected look he was still bent about that.

"Have you watched hockey?" Judy asked. "I know your family was into baseball, right?"

"Yes, baseball. But no…I haven't watched hockey yet."

"All right then," Sam said, slapping his hand down on the table and pushing away from the table. Sam led me into the living room and sat me down in front of their television while we ate. "It's time you see this boy play."

Standing near the television, he pulled out a stack of DVDs and I quickly realized he had recorded every game Evan had ever played in, much like what my parents had done for Andrew.

Caitlin snorted and walked to the door with her mom. She looked dressed for school in her skinny jeans, light colored sweater and tasteful dark colored boots over the jeans, her dark hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. I began to realize she was very fashionable. "Hope you don't die of boredom, Ami. See ya tonight."

Laughing, I waved to them while Sam and I took a seat on the couch. "Love you, Jud-Bug!" Sam yelled after his wife. She leaned her head back in the door and blew him a kiss.

"You don't have to work?"

"I do…later today. I'm a project manager for Westinghouse Electric out in Cranberry Township. I don't have to be in until later today." He gave me a shrug, settling beside me. The shrug made me smile and reminded me of Evan. I really liked Sam. Not only did he remind me of Evan, but he was a lot like my dad, always smiling and proud of his family.

Hadley, Evan's cousin, was apparently into making videos and made a couple of Evan this season with highlights from his Major Junior career mixed into it. Hadley was very talented, I had discovered that much, but it was Evan that shocked me.

When the opening credits came onto the video, a Nine Inch Nails song pulsed to images of Evan slamming guys into boards, circling around, stealing the puck, and then racing up ice to score a goal. Then there were some of him as a kid and these animated victory goal dances that had me in a fit of teary-eyed giggles.

Sam switched the DVD after that and started showing me some of his Major Junior highlights, along with clips from when they won their version of the Stanley Cup. It was the last year he played for them. Evan with a play-off beard, he could barely grow at the time, was the most entertaining.

"Hockey players are who they are, and Mase is a hockey player down to his soul," Sam said, motioning to the television that was frozen on an image of Evan holding his Chicago Blackhawks jersey with the number five on the back. "No one will ever change that about him."