Chapter 2
We rode to TD Gardens in silence, just thinking. It's December, the lockout is still going on, but Zdeno sent us all emails to come to the rink for a morning skate and practice. The taxi stopped and we stepped in the rink. Everyone was already there, but none of the coaches. "Where are the coaches?" I whispered to Tuukka. We have become really good friends since I've been dragged along to all these practices since Patrice is so protective of me. "I don't know, all I know is Zdeno called us here and I think he's up to something with your brother. Have you heard anything?" Tuukka replied. "No.." I said, just as Patrice and Zdeno emerged from the locker room. "I did not call you here for a practice." Zdeno stated, his Slovak accent prominent. "I called you here because we are going on a team trip!" He exclaimed. There were collective cheers from the team around me. "Where are we going?" Milan asked. "Chicago." Patrice answered. This is great! "I've always wanted to go to Chicago!" I say to Tuukka. "Me too." He said shyly. "When do we leave?" Zdeno asked himself. "Tonight. Pack your bags for a week, boys-" I stared at Zdeno. "-And MaryKay." He continued, "we're going to Chicago! Meet up in the airport at 6 tonight. We take off at 8!" There were more cheers as the boys charged back into the locker room to take off their skates and to start packing.
"Ready to go?" Patrice asked me. "Can we wait until everyone's gone? I want to skate. I haven't skated in a while." I asked Patrice, putting on my puppy dog face. "Alright. But only for an hour. We have to get home and pack." "Yay! You're the best!" I exclaimed, hugging my 6 foot 2 brother. I stepped out on the ice with my new skates laced up and started to do some circles around the ice. "Is that all you can do?" Patrice taunted me, skating the same pattern backwards while dribbling a puck. "No, I learned from the best!" I yelled back from the other side of the rink. I remember when Zdeno and Patrice first taught me how to skate. I'm pretty good at it now, and I play hockey pretty well too. I skated over to the sideline and grabbed a stick. I had to make sure it was a reasonable size, since I was stuck at 5 foot nothing for the rest of my life.
Patrice and I got in a less rough version of ice hockey, with the score always being neck-and-neck. I was heading up the neutral zone for a goal when we head someone come in the door to the rink. "Sorry, I just forgot my water bottle." Milan explained to Patrice, but his eyes never left the puck. "Wow. That was awesome! Maybe you should give up that doctorate for a women's league jersey." Milan joked as he grabbed his water bottle. "Eh, I'll think about it." I said back, grinning.
Ah, that's right. I'm a doctor. I still can't get over it! I graduated last spring from Yale University to get my M.D. for neurology. I feel cool when people address me as Dr. Bergeron, but it's also a little weird. "Come on, MKay. We have to get home and pack." Patrice interrupted my thoughts and we skated to the locker room to unlace our skates and go home.