Long Road To Wisdom

There was nothing easy about Shannon’s awakening the next morning. She snapped out of sleep with the violent urge to pee, made it two inches from where she’d fallen asleep, and realized she was trapped beneath a heavy arm. She almost panicked at the sensation of too much and everywhere and she couldn’t even begin to comprehend why those were the first reactions she had. She pushed at the arm and scrambled to the bathroom.

Whoever was in that bed would probably not appreciate being pee’d on. She didn’t really want to pee on anyone. It could wait.

Less than a minute later she was done and standing at the foot of her bed, so thoroughly confused that she couldn’t even form a legitimate response to the situation.

That was Brendan Smith. Right there, sleeping curled around the pillow she’d just been using. Brendan Smith in her bed. What in the world. She checked herself over. She was in a tank top and underwear. She wasn’t sore in certain telling locations. So, they hadn’t had sex and yet he was here. She frowned and went back over her evening.

She’d been doing some last minute changes to a rehab plan. Winnick and Graham had dragged her into public. There had been drinking and her laughing at the stupidity of college guys and scantily clad coeds. And then . . . and then she’d found Smith getting all heavy with a girl. Mandy. The girl’s name had been Mandy. Smith had said that when-

She couldn’t breathe. So that’s why she’d felt trapped. That guy, the Lacrosse playing douche canoe. He’d tried to rape her. And Smith had stopped him and then he’d taken care of her. Smith had taken care of her and brought her back to her room and let her cry herself to sleep in his arms.

Shannon felt her emotions cutting across her heart and it hurt. It hurt a lot. She was so embarrassed. She should have never had that much to drink. She knew she was a lightweight; that had been really poor planning on her part. And she was embarrassed that she’d gotten herself into a situation she’d needed rescuing from. It was not her fault that fuck nut had tried to assault her. That was on him but it was on her for not being responsible for her drinking.

She took a few steps back and leaned against the wall, just watching Smith. He’d lost his shirt at some point, probably after she’d soaked it with tears. He was still filling in but she could see the beginnings of the muscles he’d have during his pro career. He really was a beautiful specimen of a man and she’d made a fool of herself in front of him.

And now what? He’d been so kind last night but was it the circumstance? Would he wake up and take one look at her and go back to being mean and petty? It seemed unlikely that he’d just be nice to her now. Not after that clusterfuck last night.

Shannon decided that she really didn’t want to find out. It was 7:47 in the morning. The team had a skate at 10 but it wouldn’t be unheard of for her to meet up with the coaching staff and go over the rest of the plans for the day. She pulled on her U of W track suit and gathered her work materials as quietly as possible. Smith didn’t stir. She sighed in relief when she made it out of the room.

He was awake for breakfast an hour later. Shannon let her eyes catch the sight of him when he walked in but didn’t linger. She saw him frown at her, though, before she turned back to her conversation with her dad. Smith took a seat across the room.

He did snag her arm as she was leaving, though, pulling her back into the almost deserted room. When he spoke, he was quiet and tentative. “Hey, are you okay this morning? I was worried when I woke up and you weren’t there.”

She shrugged off his hand. He might be playing nice and asking about her but she really wasn’t ready to deal with him being a jerk again. “I’m fine. Thanks for last night.” She moved to step away and he followed. “I’ve really gotta go, Smith. I’ve got work to do.”

Smith might have tried to protest but Shannon didn’t stick around long enough to find out. She ignored him for the rest of the day. And for the entire trip home. And for the next week at practice. She couldn’t deal with her choices and she retreated back into herself. It was the best she could do, she rationalized. When faced with the enormity of what happened in Houghton, she just couldn’t handle it.

It only took two weeks for Smith to be back to hating her.

She almost felt like it was better this way. He was easier to deal with when he wasn’t trying to be her friend.

Madison, WI
March, 2010

“Your face is stupid, Brendan Smith, and I am this close to rearranging it for you. Four weeks, Smith, I have been working on this project. Four weeks. What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

From his office, Coach Mike Eaves, of the University of Wisconsin Badgers hockey team, sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. His daughter Shannon and his star defenseman Smith were at it again. The yelling continued from the locker room, Smith’s rebuttal now.

“Why did you leave your stuff near my stall, huh? It doesn’t belong in here. Why can’t you just fuck off to your daddy and cry some more about how terrible I am?”

Mike wouldn’t get up and check on the pair arguing. They’d been at each other’s throats for the whole season. He believed the conflict had started during the fourth week when she’d made a judgment call on his ankle, effectively benching him for a game. Smith had taken a great deal of offense to being taken out for a game by not only a woman but also by a first time trainer. Shannon had taken a great deal of offense to being called subpar because of her sex and experience. Mike had felt they both had great points at the time and had expected them to work through their differences.

They definitely had not. What had started with silent staring contests after that benching had evolved into heated shouting matches littered with profanity and slights against each other’s pedigrees.

His only consolation was that the season was almost over and with it the constant battles between Smith and his, frankly, alarmingly aggressive daughter. Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loved Shannon. His baby girl had been the light of his life since she’d arrived in the world, unexpected but so very welcome. But, Christ, she’d gotten an attitude while at school in Boston. The sweet and demure girl he’d watched grow had turned into a firecracker; he wasn’t all that sure how he felt about it.

“Oh, fuck you Smith. You’re supposed to be on the ice for another thirty minutes. The fuck is wrong? Do you need to change your jock? Is it too big? God knows you don’t have anything going on down there to protect anyway.”

He listened to Smith’s loud and indignant squawk. He was a good kid. A bit boisterous and not as passionate as Mike would like, but he was still a kid. He was also most likely headed to the AHL next season, cutting his college career a year short. Mike would offer Shannon an extension on her internship with UW but he wanted to see his baby girl shine. He’d already been in contact with several clubs and would hopefully get her bumped up to the pros next season.

“You’re a fucking bitch. The only reason you’re here is because of your dad.”

Mike couldn’t wait for the peace and quiet.

He stood then, though, because Smith was wrong. Shannon was a fantastic trainer and had an eye for hockey injuries. With two big brothers playing, a coach for a dad, and over fifteen years playing experience herself, she’d been exposed to the sport from day one. And she’d been invaluable behind the bench with him. He entered the dressing room to find Shannon halfheartedly throwing Smith’s gear away from a huge mess of papers. She looked like she was close to tears, the jab about her value cutting deeper than Smith could ever know. Mike had had to beg her to take the internship with him. Literally beg her. But, she was good and he knew it and they’d both grown as people while working together.

When Smith caught sight of him, he visibly paled. He coughed out, “Coach!” It was half warning, half pleading not to get suicide skated.

“I swear to all that is holy, the two of you will turn me gray before I have the chance to see both of your asses off to the next level of your careers.” Shannon straightened and was about to huff out an explanation about what a terrible, irresponsible jerk Smith was but Mike cut her off. “Now, I don’t care what’s going on in here. But it’s going to stop. We’ve got three weeks before the playoffs. This house needs to be kept in order. Is that understood?”

Smith’s “Yes sir!” was quick to come but Shannon mumbled something at him. He walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. His daughter took a deep breath and muttered under her breath to calm down before echoing Smith.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, what the hell are you doing in here Smith? Practice doesn’t end for another half hour.”

Madison, WI
May, 2010

Brendan Smith’s last day on U of Wisconsin’s campus brought him deep into the bowels of Kohl, intent on tracking down Coach Eaves. He owed the man a great deal of thanks for his guidance over the years. Coach had given him endless opportunities to grow his ability and he knew that he’d be ready for training camp with the Wings in July because of him.

He found the door propped open partially, but paused when he heard talking in low voices from inside. It sounded like Coach and his daughter. Brendan scowled when he could hear her for sure. They’d been at each other’s throats for months and he couldn’t wait until she was at whatever half-assed university would take her on and he was in Grand Rapids, making money.

“I couldn’t believe the offer either, Dad. I wasn’t even shopping around with them but I think Patty said something.” Brendan could tell she was scowling. She always dropped her voice and bit out her words when she was frustrated. Brendan knew her cheeks would be flushed right now too, those mesmeric blue eyes of her flashing.

He heard Coach sigh and shuffle some papers. “I called them.” Shannon immediately started to protest, but Coach cut her off. “I know you didn’t apply but I also know they could really use someone like you on their support roster. And really, you’re ready for the next step Shannon. You should be working in the pros.”

Brendan heard Shannon sigh, probably ready for whatever presumptuous and bitchy rebuttal she felt was necessary but Coach beat her to the punch. “Besides. If you do well in Toledo you’ll get shifted up to GR in no time. And, you know Detroit will follow. They’ve been looking for someone to come up for Assistant when Van Zant retires in a few years.”

Brendan’s brain ground to a halt because Toledo had the one hockey team and it fed directly into Grand Rapids. GR. Whatever. It fed right to his team. His team. Next season. No way. No fucking way did she score a job within Detroit’s organization. He was moments away from charging into the office and demanding she refuse the offer. He couldn’t deal with her constant poking and prodding and criticism. The last season had been bad enough.

“Dad, I don’t want to do this on anyone’s merit but my own. I get enough shit in your locker room about getting handed favors. At the pro level it’ll be even worse!” She was talking about him. Brendan gave her a lot of flak about her position, but really he had worked his ass off every step of the way. He wasn’t about to let some chick impact his game because of who her dad was.Just because she had solid advice sometimes doesn’t mean she was that good.

“Shannon, honey, you’re good at your job. You did great this season and I swear I kept the fatherly praise to a minimum when Van Zant called. I promise.” Brendan heard movement inside and when he glanced through the crack he could see the two hugging.

Coach really did love and respect his daughter. It was just a damn shame she was such a bitch.

He didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t listening when Shannon opened the door fully. She gasped, surprised to see him standing there. Her bright blue eyes flashed in irritation right before she scowled. “What are you doing you creep?”

“Just wanted to say good bye!”

Shannon sniffed and turned her nose up at him. “I’ll see you at home, Dad.” She swept past him without another word. Brendan called down the hall after her, wanting to get one last dig in. “Bye Shannon! I’ll miss you!” Her middle finger rose over her right shoulder and he watched that retreating form for just a moment longer. Brendan’s shit eating grin remained even after he’d knocked on Coach’s door. Coach waved him inside and Brendan plopped down into the chair he’d found his ass in many times over the last three seasons.

“All done with classes?”

Coach was searching for something on his desk so Brendan said, “Yeah. Last final this morning and I’m out of here tonight.” A piece of paper appeared with a flourish and an ‘Ah-ha!’ from Coach. “I wanted to stop by and say thank you. You’ve been an excellent coach.” Brendan hadn’t been explicit per-say about his plans for next season, but he hadn’t denied any rumors that he’d be joining the Wings up in Traverse City that summer.

The older man paused in his reading to look up at him. He’d been subjected to this calculating look many times. Part assessment, part bullshit detector, Coach Eaves’ stare had been known to quietly unnerve the most stalwart of players. “I hope you do well, Smith.You’ve got a hell of a career in front of you and I’m glad I can say I was there from the start.”

The words were almost emotional in a way coaches never are. Brendan took the hand shake that he was offered and stood. There was really nothing else to say. He paused at the door, something unfathomably huge floating in front of him; it swelled in front of him and words were on the tip of his tongue.

The awards on the walls, the memories of past wins and the victories that hard work validates looked back. He was suddenly struck by how much he probably wouldn’t miss being here. The Badgers were his whole life for three years, but now, bigger fish to fry.

Notes