Rhythm and the Blue Line Ch. 10

x-x-x-x

Brody listened to Ryan, and then sputtered. "He said what? Are you serious?"

"Oh, yeah. He was an asshole." She flopped on the hotel bed and stared at the ceiling. There was a big watermark, which she hoped didn't mean the ceiling would collapse any time soon.

"What did you do?" Brody asked.

She told him and had to wait until he finished laughing to continue. "It's not big deal, really. We went through worse when we played in college. Trust me, few people have anything on frat guys for sexist insults."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, well. There are jerks like him everywhere. He just happened to crawl out of the woodwork the night we were there. But we handled it and the set went pretty well, all things considered." She covered a yawn. "How's everything going with you? Nate hasn't given me my daily update."

"We lost." Brody huffed out a breath and she could imagine him rubbing a hand over his face. "We were out of sync last night. If it wasn't for Rizzy in goal, it would have been a lot worse."

The Caps were mired in a tight series with the Montréal Canadiens for the second round of the playoffs; they were tied at two games apiece. Montréal had finished in eighth place, snagging the last playoff seed, but they'd already knocked off the first-seeded Pittsburgh Penguins. The Capitals had no intention of underestimating their opponent.

"I'm sorry, Brody. Don't be—I mean, everybody—" She shook her head. "Sorry, never mind. Anything I say is going to be a total cliché, and I know that's the last thing you want to hear."

"I don't know. I'd rather hear a cliché from you than anybody else."

She laughed. "Thanks, I think. I was just going to say everyone has an off night, but I know that's not what you want to hear."

"No. It's true, but no. We should have had them."

"You'll get them next time, buckaroo."

"What the hell?"

"Sorry." Ryan giggled. "That's what my Uncle Pete would say when my brothers lost a game or I was off on my music."

"Remind me never to talk sports with your Uncle Pete."

"Will do." She was quiet for a minute. "Okay, I have to get a little sappy. I miss you. I got used to it being easy to see you. I may just forget what you look like."

"Oh, you're funny. But if you're serious, why don't we try this on Skype or something?"

"I hadn't thought of that." Ryan sat up and got her computer. "Hold on, let me get this set up. I'll buzz you in a minute, okay?"

"Sure."

Ryan cut off the call and opened the program on her computer. She couldn't believe she was looking forward to this so much and that she hadn't thought of it before. Brody answered on the first ring.

"Hey, rock star."

"What is that thing on your face?" Ryan stared at him, shocked.

"What?" He stroked his sandy-colored beard. "Don't you like it?"

"I don't know. I've never seen you with a beard." She studied the picture, laughing as he posed in profile. She knew players grew playoff beards, but hadn't thought about Brody having one. "I guess it'll do. How long will you keep it?"

"As long as necessary and as long as possible. I'm keeping this baby through the whole playoffs."

"And after?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "I thought I'd let you decide."

"Ah, no. Take a picture for posterity, then you can get rid of it."

"Come on, sweetheart, give it a chance. You might like it." He leered at her, making her laugh again.

"I'd rather see you with one than not at all." Ryan sighed. "I do miss you."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." He gave her a wistful smile. "I can't wait until you're back."

"It'll be nice to stop traveling," she admitted. "And I never knew how much I appreciated thick walls until we started staying in these, um, places."

He laughed. "What kind of place are you in tonight?"

"I don't know. Something like the Sea Angel Hotel, which is hilarious because I don't think there's a lake, let alone a sea, within a hundred miles of here. Look at the décor." Ryan slid her chair back and turned the computer so he could see the faded wallpaper and the garish paint-by-number seascape on the wall.

"Christ, stop!" Brody covered his eyes. "It's burned into my retinas!"

Ryan threw her head back and laughed. "Sorry. Here, it's okay now."

He peeked through his fingers and heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief when he saw her on the screen. "You should have warned me. That is horrid. How will you sleep knowing it's there?"

"The light will be out so I won't have to see it."

"I think I'd wear a blindfold during the day." He paused. "You know, you could try that when you get back. I'd be around to make sure you didn't bump into anything."

"Jesus, you're terrible. A one-track mind. And no."

"Won't you let me live out any of my fantasies?"

"Maybe, but not the ones that involve me being blindfolded."

"Hmmm. I'll work on that." He stifled a yawn. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I'd better go."

"Okay. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to keep you up too late."

"Nah, I was kind of wired. I couldn't sleep when I first got back, I would have just been up watching something anyway."

"All right." She smiled and found herself wishing she could kiss him good-bye. "Get some sleep. And don't worry about the game, I—nope, never mind. No more clichés."

"Fair enough. And you guys be careful."

"We will, don't worry."

They said their good nights and Ryan yawned as she switched off the computer. She needed some sleep as well and looked longingly at the bed, but first she had to brush her teeth. Armed with a sneaker, she went to the bathroom and flipped on the light. She fell back then relaxed when she saw nothing scurrying on the floor or counter. As she brushed her teeth, she debated whether they should keep the light on all night. She didn't like the idea of getting up in the middle of the night and encountering any six-legged roommates.

She left the light on and went back into the room. Lara came in just as Ryan pulled on one of the long t-shirts she slept in.

"Hey, how's Trout?" Ryan asked.

"Good, good." Lara covered a yawn. "He says hi, and check the website tomorrow around ten o'clock. I called my mom, too, she says hi. And your stuff is fine."

Ryan laughed. "Tell her thanks. Can't wait to see the site."

"Me either. So, did you talk to Brody?"

"I did, and oh, my God." She told Lara about the beard and her friend made an approving noise.

"You can't tell him to shave it off. At least, not until you have a chance to experience it for yourself."

"How does one 'experience' a beard? And when have you?"

"Trout had a beard for a while once. It was . . . fun."

Ryan winced. "TMI, Lara, TMI. I do not want to know any more about this. Just—just—no. No no no. I'm going to bed."

"Wuss." Lara chortled on her way to the bathroom.

Ryan laid in the bed and closed her eyes, trying to make the icky feeling of the guys at the bar go away. She concentrated on Brody instead, smiling at the memory of his beard. Too bad he wasn't there, she thought as she turned over. Maybe it would be an interesting experience.

x-x-x-x

Game five back in Washington was even more tightly-contested than game four in Montréal.

Brody saw the puck sliding to the corner and charged after it. He caught a flash of white out of the corner of his eye, knew he had a step on the defenseman, and sped up as he focused on the puck. A few feet out from the boards he felt something slam into his back and then he crashed into the boards. He dropped face down to the ice.

"Brody, you okay?" He could hear an accented voice above him. "Don't move. Lou coming."

Brody tried to say something but wasn't sure if he did. Tolya sounded like he was talking over a bad phone line, distant and tinny. Brody took a breath and tried to get his hands and knees under him; he couldn't.

"Hold on, Langer. Take it easy." He heard Lou's voice. "Can you hear me?"

Brody took a breath and at last managed to prop himself up on his elbows. "Yeah."

"Just take it easy. Breathe."

"Okay."

"Don't move too fast."

"Okay. Yeah, okay." Brody closed his eyes against the dizziness that swept over him. He took more deep breaths at Lou's urging.

"Ready to try getting up? Just get up on your knees."

"Sure." He wasn't sure he was ready, but he didn't want to stay on the ice. With Lou's help he got on all fours, then up on his knees. His head was reeling. After another few minutes, Tolya came to his other side to help Lou get him to his feet.

"Careful, Langer," Tolya cautioned. "Not rush. You hit hard."

He let Tolya and Lou guide him to the bench, dimly registering the applause from the Washington fans. Once he was off the ice, Lou and an assistant led him back to the quiet room, as required by NHL rules for any player suspected of having a concussion. The team doctor came in as well. Brody squinted against the lights and realized he had a monster headache.

"Hey, Lou, got some aspirin?" He winced at the sound of his own voice.

Lou gave him a grim look. "I think you're going to need more than an aspirin, pal."

x-x-x-x

Ryan clapped her hands over her mouth as she watched Brody go down. The band had decided to relax and splurge a little on an off-night, going for a decent meal at a sports bar across from their hotel to catch the game. This was not what she'd hoped to see.

She watched, speechless, as the camera pulled back so that she could see both Brody lying on the ice and his teammates charging over to take the Canadiens to task. Bax was the first one in and grabbed one guy by the shoulders. Another Canadien tried to break that up but another Cap jumped in and soon all the players save Brody, Strelkov and the goalies were in a huge scrum.

"Shit, oh shit. Did you see that?" She wrung her hands. "That guy was moving like a freight train. Brody went down like a ton of bricks. Shit."

Lara rubbed her shoulder. "Relax, Ry. He'll be okay. Sometimes they just get the wind knocked out of them, you know that. Brody's a tough guy."

Ryan covered her eyes and took a deep breath. When she looked up, she stole glances at her friends, all of whom looked concerned since Brody was still lying on the ice. She watched the TV as they showed a replay. In slow motion, Brody went after the puck. Knowing what was coming made it hard to watch, but she couldn't turn away either. A Montréal player came into the picture and slammed Brody in the back, sending him rocketing into the boards head first, and he crashed to the ice. The slow motion didn't make it look any better; Ryan dropped her head into her hands.

"He's getting up, that's good," Mitch said after the replay finished.

Nate nodded. "Yeah. And he wasn't unconscious. He won't need a stretcher or anything."

Ryan's shoulders slumped. "Jesus, Nate. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry."

They watched as Brody was led off and Ryan didn't know if she was relieved or not. It was good he was on his feet, but he was obviously unable to skate on his own. She wanted to call him, but knew he wouldn't be able to talk for a while. She settled for sending a text. Saw the hit. Hope you're okay. Call when you can. Worried about you. She felt a little better for having sent the message; this way he'd know she knew what had happened, but he could reply whenever he had a chance.

The game resumed but Ryan didn't have the heart to watch it. "I'm going back to the hotel, guys."

"Want me to come with you?" Lara asked.

"No, it's okay. I just can't watch anymore." The Caps were up by two goals, but there was still a period and a half left and Ryan knew injuries like that could affect the players. She didn't think she could take watching them lose.

"Okay, we'll see you later. Call if you need anything."

"He'll be okay, Ryan." Mitch looked over, all sincerity. "We'll let you know what they say."

"Thanks."

She left and walked across the parking lot to the hotel, not sure what to do. In a crisis, she usually called Lara or Brody. But Lara had been there, so there was little else she could say, and Brody was a non-starter. Her mom wasn't an option and she didn't want to bother Evan while he was finishing up his exams. It occurred to her that she had a pretty small circle of close friends, and tonight underscored how alone she was when the circle was messed up.

Not exactly alone, she reminded herself. She did have Brody and the band. She'd been lonely at times, but she knew she wasn't alone. In fact, she realized that even with Brody in the playoffs, she was less lonely than she would have been if he wasn't in her life at all.

"I have spent years trying to get away from sports, and it would just figure I'd fall for an athlete," she muttered to herself as she went into the elevator.

She pushed the button for her floor and stared at the panel as she realized what she'd said. Fallen for him? She groaned and slumped back against the wall. When had that happened? And why figure it out now, when she couldn't do anything about it?

"You know, I could wish for better timing." She stalked down the hall to her room, then turned on the TV and found the channel for the game to see if there was any news on Brody.