Yo Ho Ho, page 15
Bob sent her a long note a few days ago about how impressed he had been with her work and how much he was going to miss her. It was one of a handful of times that she had cried in the newsroom that week. She hated crying in public, but she couldn't help it. Saying goodbye to so many people she cared about was emotional. Saying goodbye to the job she loved was even worse. She didn't think it was going to be this rough, but there was so much that kept piling up and piling up. Some librarians from a local college came in a few days ago and took away boxes of the Herald's archives that the paper had donated since all that history needed a new home. Max packed up a few things each day to take back with her and each trip brought more nostalgia.
There had been so much build up this week as they got closer to the end that she was kind of looking forward to this emotional roller coaster being over. But until then, she had her job to do.
During a break in play, Max got up and headed for the free hot dog table that the team's public relations office set up. She wasn't sure if she would miss those.
"Do they serve you this crap every game?"
Max turned to see Barry Lawrence, the managing editor of the paper, giving her a teasing smile.
"Every game."
"I'm glad I didn't try to come here sooner," he said as he slathered some ketchup on his own dog.
Max gave him a small laugh and headed back to their spot in the press box. Barry had come with her before to games — maybe two or three. Since he oversaw the entire paper, it was rare for him to have a chance to come to the arena with her. But he showed up for a game or two during the team's playoff runs, and he was here when the Pirates retired the number of their former captain.
Barry had decided that he wanted to watch her work this last game, a rare Sunday matinee. Max thought it would be nice to have him there. After all, there wouldn't be another time to them to do this. They sat quietly and watched as the players skated around, Detroit trying to kill the last few minutes on the clock. During a commercial break, she was looking over her notes when she heard Bob's voice come over the arena's public address system.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Detroit Pirates would like to you to turn your attention to the press box."
Max looked up in surprise, only to see her face staring back at her from the big screen.
"We would like to acknowledge the fine work of Maxine Quinn, who is covering her last Pirates game for the Detroit Herald."
Max watched as the fans stood up and turned to her. They were smiling and cheering, clapping and waving at her. She looked down at the ice and saw the entire Detroit Pirates bench tapping their sticks. It was an amazing honor for those guys to do that for her. She picked out Logan from the rest of the team, his dark scruff unable to hide his huge smile as he stared up at her from way down on the ice. Max could only stand and wave to the crowd, a small thanks for all the times they had read her work or encouraged her to write more.
"We're going to miss you, Max," she heard Bob say in his announcer voice to the crowd.
She sat as the cheers died down and the horn blared to let the teams know that they had to get ready to play again. Logan lingered a little on the ice, staring up at her as she looked back at him. Then he tightened the strap on his helmet and skated to center ice to finish the game.
"That was really nice of the team to do that for you," Barry said wistfully from his spot next to her.
"Yeah."
That was all Max could say. Anything more would push her over an emotional cliff again. It was better to just smile and nod, take a deep breath, and get back to work. She would have plenty of time to cry in a few days.
The media stood outside the locker room, waiting for the all-clear to come so they could go in and get quotes for their story. It was taking a bit longer than usual, which was fine because a matinee game meant that Max had a few more hours until deadline. She didn't have to rush like most days so she could enjoy her last game story for the paper.
Barry had come down with her to reminisce with Bob. The two of them had worked at a local television station before Barry made the jump to the newspaper and Bob decided to try announcing. Max let them have their time, especially because this was really a goodbye for Barry. He has quietly told a few people — Bob included — that the paper going under was a sign that he needed to finally retire.
While they were chatting, Max was with her usual crew talking about the game and breaking down some of the key points.
"The defense was definitely hot today," Charlie said. "I don't know who lit a fire under Logan's ass, but he's been looking sharp the last few games."
Well, there was definitely something interesting about Logan's ass, especially the way it felt under Max's fingers as he moved over her that night in her apartment. She had so much to deal with since then with Christmas and then the newspaper, she hadn't realized how much she had missed Logan's ass, or really how much she had missed Logan. It wasn't just his body — although he had a great one. It was also sitting on her couch just talking. It was the fact that he remembered that she liked vanilla lattes or the way his lips gently brushed against hers.
"Max!"
"Huh?"
She looked up to see a few of the media guys staring at her. Charlie in particular had a look of worry on his face.
"You OK, Quinn?" he asked. "You spaced out on us for a second there."
"Yeah, yeah, fine," she stammered. "I guess it's finally hitting me that this is my last game."
She had to give herself credit for that excuse. To be fair, she had been thinking about that earlier in the day. This was her last game, or at least the last game she would cover in the foreseeable future. She still had no idea what she was going to do next except take a week off before she really started digging into finding a job.
Becca finally stepped out of the locker room and propped open the door for the media to file in. Most of the players were in their uniforms or had taken off their jerseys. Max took a quick glance around and realized none of them had left yet to get a shower, which was a little unusual for right after the game. There were at least a few guys she knew who would duck out to avoid the media as soon as they could.
Jake started to set up his camera gear near Logan's locker. Max figured he was going to try and get a quote about the defenseman's goal. She decided to hang back a bit and wait for the television guys to get their video before she pushed her way forward for a quote or two.
Next to Logan's stall, she heard the loud booming voice of the captain of the team.
"Hey, before you guys start asking questions, can I have your attention for a minute?" Jordan asked.
This was unusual. In fact, Max couldn't remember ever seeing Jordan silence an entire locker room — including the media — for anything. She opened her notebook and got her pen ready, assuming he was about to say something that she would need to quote in her game story later.
"Thanks, everyone," Jordan said as the room quieted down. "I just wanted to say something really quick on behalf of the team. As you all know, the players have a small sheriff's badge that we like to give to our best player after each game. Today, for example, that honor went to Logan Moore for his awesome game-winning goal."
There were a few hoots and cheers from the players as Logan proudly held up the cheap little piece of gold plastic that the team had decided to rally behind this year. He turned and deliberately found Max in the crowd, giving her a warm smile before finally sitting back down.
"But we decided we wanted to give out one more." Jordan held up another gold star pin in his hand. "Now first, let me just say that this cost Sam a whole five dollars from some toy store somewhere so you know it's a big deal."
There were a few chuckles in the crowd and several polite smiles towards the captain. But a quick glance around the room made Max realize she wasn't the only one confused about where exactly this was going.
"We want to give this to someone we thought deserved a little bit of extra recognition today, to a person who has shown true dedication to their job and has earned our respect for all the hard work they've put in for the past few years." He turned and smiled at Max. "Ms. Quinn, could you come over here?"
All eyes in the locker room turned to Max. There were players and media guys smiling at her. Becca was wiping a tear from her eye. Bob and Barry stood stoically off to the side together. Then some of the guys started clapping and there were a few cheers from the crowd. Max turned back to see Jordan waving her over with a warm smile. She didn't know how she was able to do it, but she started to move her feet towards him, unsure if this was all real. She was the one behind the scenes, the one telling the story. Yet here she was in this locker room walking up to receive a cheap toy from the captain of the Detroit Pirates.
It was one of the most amazing gifts she had ever received.
Logan was on his feet standing next to his captain, a huge smile on his face as she walked over. Jordan stepped up and gave her a big hug, not caring that he was still in his sweaty smelly uniform. She didn't care either. After all this time covering the team, the ups and downs, the losses and the championship, it still made her happy to be around these players.
Jordan pulled away and handed her the star in his hands, then he put his arm around her and turned towards the locker room.
"This woman is one of the most dedicated hockey reporters any of us have ever met," he said. "We are all going to miss seeing her, but we know that wherever she lands next will be lucky to have her."
The team cheered loudly again and she even saw Charlie and Jake clapping for her. It was so overwhelming to see this kind of response from everyone, especially when she was headed for such heartbreak in only two days. But Max was at least thankful that Jordan and the team decided to do this in the locker room instead of quietly in private. The adrenaline rush from standing in front of everyone was probably preventing her from crying instead.
Jordan stepped away from her for a moment, and Max turned to see him pull out a large black gift bag from his locker.
"You have meant a lot to all of us, Max, and we wanted to give you more than just a gold star."
He pulled out a black hockey jersey with the Pirates iconic logo on the front.
"We felt like after all these years, you deserved to have your own jersey." He turned it around to show the crowd. On the back, in white letters, was her name and the number 11. "We couldn't decide on what your number would be, but Becca suggested we give you 11 because it looks like bunny ears sticking up."
Max smiled and shook her head. She didn't realize just how well known her slippers had become during road trips, but she wasn't embarrassed. She loved those slippers.
"Also, we wanted to give you one more thing." Jordan pulled out a bottle of champagne from the bag. "This is to make up for the time that Birdie sprayed you in the face and made your eyes burn after winning the championship."
"I still have no regrets!" Alex announced from the other side of the room.
Max laughed and stared down at the bottle. She would have to hold onto that for a special occasion. Maybe when she got a new job or figured out what the hell she was going to do with her life.
"Anyway, we just wanted to give you a few little things to let you know that we've really enjoyed having you here these past years and we're going to miss you covering the team."
Max stuffed her newly acquired items back in the bag and gave a few quick thank yous to everyone standing around, not sure about what else to say or do. She wasn't used to getting this kind of attention or having this many people looking at her. She was a reporter who was on the other side giving attention to these players. It was a little overwhelming but still appreciated. There had been so many sad days, so many bad moments since that trip to California when she found out she was losing her job. This was one of the few good moments when she could remember happier times.
She gave Jordan another quick hug. "Thank you for this," she said.
"You're welcome." He pulled away and smiled down at her. "I didn't want to mention it out loud to everyone, but Charlotte also had me slide an invite to our New Year's party in there. She wanted to make sure you saw it."
"It's a great party," Logan said from beside his captain. "You should come."
Max turned and looked at him. Logan was giving her a casual smile — or at least trying to. Most people would see it as just a friendly thing, but there was something more to it. She could see the restraint behind it, the way he was trying to keep cool without making people suspect there was something else going on. But there was something else brewing under the surface: a secret between Logan and Max. Something only they knew.
Max couldn't dwell on it though because the locker room had begun to hum as the normal post-game routines started to kick in. A few reporters started to seek out players to ask questions. Some of the guys peeled off their jerseys and headed for the showers. Max asked Jordan if she could keep her gifts in his locker until she was done with her interviews.
"I could put it in mine if you needed," Logan offered.
"It's OK, I have room," Jordan said.
Logan gave him a slight scowl that only Max noticed, but he deferred to his captain anyway.
Rather than ask questions herself, Max decided to tag along with Charlie and let him talk to Logan while she took notes. It was probably better that way considering the kind of reaction she may have towards Logan. Sure, she had interviewed him many times and asked him countless questions. But that was before everything had changed between them. Now, she wasn't sure how she would react — or how he would either. It was better to just let someone else do the talking so she could limit their interactions.
But this was her job and she was a professional. Logan had a job to do too. So after she got a few quotes from him, she walked away to get a reaction from Alex about his assist on Logan's goal, then asked Matt about the one goal that did get past him. She checked over her notes, making sure she had enough for her gamer and covered everything she wanted.
She stared down at the iconic skull and crossed hockey sticks logo on the floor, the one that the players insisted no one step on, not even the media. It was still as pristine as the day they opened this locker room in the new arena. She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the emotion that was threatening to break free. She would have time to reflect on what this last game meant to her later, but she couldn't do that just yet. She had a deadline to meet.
Logan was still sitting in his stall as she walked over to him.
"Are you coming back for more?" he asked.
She gave him a small smile. Better to do that than anything else, which could cause them both all kinds of trouble. She just needed to get through a few more days of acting like a normal reporter who didn't get all hot and bothered by a hockey player.
"No," she replied. "I'm just coming to grab my bag before heading out."
"How did you like the star?"
She looked up to see Sam smiling over at her. "It was the best part of the whole thing," she said.
"You have no idea how much fun Griffin had picking that out," he said. "But he was a kid in a toy store and we somehow ended up with a few other things so, you know, he may be biased."
Max laughed. "Well, tell him he did a great job."
Alex walked over with his suit on and his hair wet. "What about the champagne?"
"As long as you don't spray it in my eyes this time, it'll be fine."
The big Russian defenseman came over and gave her a hug. "We're going to miss you, Quinn," he said. "Don't be a stranger."
Sam also said his goodbyes and told her to keep them updated on where she headed next. Then the two of them walked away, leaving only Max with Logan. He was still wearing his uniform, still sweaty and gross from playing hockey.
"You haven't gone back yet?" she asked.
"I thought I would wait for some of the guys to clear out so I could try and talk to you."
Logan tried to say it casually, but there was a bit of fire in his eyes that made Max feel things she shouldn't be feeling in the locker room full of people.
"Hey, you're still here!"
Jordan wandered over between them, not realizing he had just interrupted a moment between Max and Logan. Maybe that was a good thing. She wanted to continue that conversation, she really did, but her brain seemed to finally be catching up with what was happening. Weird feelings, locker room, boss a few feet away. It was a bad combination.
"Still here," she replied.
She heard someone clear his throat behind her. Turning around, she saw Barry standing there with a concerned look on his face.
"Max, could I talk to you for a minute?"
She nodded. "I'll be right back," she told the guys.
Barry stepped a few more feet away from the players with Max following him before he leaned over so they couldn't hear what he was saying.
"Listen, I know that was a nice gesture from the team, but you know you can't take their gift," Barry gently said.
Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him. "Why not?"
"You know why," he said quietly. "You still work for the paper, and you still need to look impartial. That means no gifts from anyone."
"Barry, our paper is locking the doors in 48 hours."
He took a deep breath and gave her a stern look. "I understand that, Max, but we still have to be professionals."
Max could feel her face burning up. She knew he was right. They had to look professional until the bitter end, even if the paper's parent company was treating them like they were just a commodity that needed to be disposed of. It meant she had to turn down a gift from players who had taken the time to do something nice for her and brighten up the darkness she had found herself in. After all of that, she had to walk over there and tell them thanks but no thanks.
"I'm sorry, Max." Barry gently squeezed her arm. "You heading back to the newsroom?"
"Yeah."
"I'll wait for you."
