As I lead my father to the rink, I say a silent prayer that he behaves himself and simply enjoys his time with being around hockey again. We walk down the stands to sit behind the Pens bench. The guys are currently doing line rushes and dad's eyes are riveted to the ice. It's sweet to see. He looks like a little kid right now watching his heroes on the ice. The only thing that would make it perfect is if Mario was out there.

We sit down and watch the rest of practice. Dad doesn't say a word. He's leans against the chair in front of him and rests his chin on his hands. He stays like that throughout the practice. I notice Sid staring up at us and give him a smile. He knows that I've been apprehensive about dad coming to visit. Hopefully he attributes my recent behaviour to that apprehension and not anything else. I've tried very hard to push my feelings for Sid out of my mind if not my heart. Lizzy's birthday was incredibly difficult yesterday. Sitting on Lizzy's bed with Sid and reading his daughter a story made it all the more obvious to me that I need to start distancing myself slightly. I value our friendship but it's so hard for me. I'm usually honest with myself about how I feel and now that just feels like a long, slippery slope.

When I had to quit hockey, it was devastating and I worked through that grief. The strained relationship with my father has always made me feel completely inadequate but I've come to terms with that too. How I feel about Sid, well, I won't examine that too closely. There is nothing to gain and there is nothing to do with the result. This man is in a thousand different kinds of pain and he needs a friend. Thankfully for him, Sid contacted Paula to set up a session with her. I'm really excited that my mentor is on her way to Pittsburgh. She'll be here after our next road trip. We'll position her as my friend and mentor but will keep that she's here to see Sid to ourselves. It's no one's business unless he wants them to know.

The whistle sounds on the ice and Dan shouts "mustache boy." It's the monthly contest to see who the last to score on the goalies is and that player needs to grow a mustache for the month. This person will have a mustache for Christmas and none of them want to be that guy.

Zatkoff is in one net and Marc the other. The team is still getting used to not having Tomas Vokoun playing. He is on injured reserve taking care of a blood clot and the guys have been so worried for him. He's going to be healthy again although we don't know when. Marc has made an appointment to see me today to talk. I suspect he's worried about what the guys think without Tomas backing him up and if they've lost faith in him. It's natural to think that way of course and I'm glad he wants to talk to me about it.

"Bugger" dad says beside me and draws my attention back to the ice.

It seems that Marc has made one of his athletic and intricate saves that has all the guys tapping their sticks and James Neal mouthing off to him about it. Dad has an ear to ear grin that makes me smile too.

When the guys are done, and Paul is the mustache boy, most of them leave the ice. A few stay out to take shots or talk with a coach. Sid is always one of the guys who continue practicing but he's left the ice already. That's strange.

"Ok little girl, take me to the locker room" dad says to me.

"Of course" I reply.

Dad follows me down the stands and then through a side door near the Pen's bench. When we get to the locker room, the guys are talking to the media so I hold dad back before he can rush in.

"We'll just wait until they're done with the media" I tell him and he nods while never taking his eyes off of the room.

It's actually sweet watching his eyes dart around like a little boy trying to take in every moment. I know this was his dream and it's always been a regret that he never truly got to experience it. Maybe being around the team will help bring some joy to him.

"Mac" I hear Dan say behind me.

When I turn, dad does as well so I introduce the men.

"It's going to be a great year. You guys are on fire" Dad tells the coach.

"We're happy with how we're doing so far but you know that it's a long season" Dan replies. "Of course your daughter has made a huge difference. A lot of her ideas have greatly contributed to the team coming together and some of the players individually stepping up their game."

I smile at Dan. It's just like him to praise me to my dad. Dan is always quick to give people 'their due' and recognize their contribution. It's one of the things I really appreciate about him and know that it has a great effect on the team.

"She tries her best" is all dad says before launching into a minute by minute review of the Pen's last game.

I let my mind wander while the men talk. Dad is asking Dan about different plays and moves he made during the last game. My father is very knowledgeable and Dan is soon drawn into a great, if unexpected, conversation.

"How is it going so far?" I hear Sid whisper in my ear. A shiver flows through me in response.

I turn slightly and whisper back "great. He had so much fun watching the practice and couldn't wait to get down here."

"Sid!" Dad says excitedly when he notices that Sid is beside me.

"Hello sir" Sid says and shakes hands with my dad.

He's smiling at dad but I know that it's his 'corporate' smile that he gives people he doesn't know. You can tell because it never touches his eyes.

"You're having a hell of a year Sid, truly incredible. You're going to run away with the Hart again, I just know it."

"Thank you. We've been playing really well. There are still some things to work on but we're getting there."

"Always with the understatements, eh kid."

Sid turns to me and asks "have you told him about tonight?"

I shake my head. Dad and I haven't said more than a few words to each other since he got to Consol. He wanted to go directly to the ice to see practice.

"No, I haven't" I reply.

Sid waits for me so I turn to dad.

"Dad" I begin. "We have a special dinner tonight." He arches a brow so I keep going. "Mario and Nathalie have invited us to their home."

For the first time, ever, my dad is speechless. His mouth actually falls open and he swivels his head between Sid and me.

Finally he says "really? Wow that's great. Wow."

Now he's smiling from ear to ear and looks happier than I've ever seen him. It's wonderful to see.

"You're coming with us?" Dad asks Sid.

Sid smiles and says "absolutely. It's going to be fun. Do you want to see more of the place?"

"Yeah, thanks Sid."

I watch the two of them wander off and Sid gives me a smile and a wink over his shoulder. I actually wasn't looking forward to giving dad a tour. He would have probably ignored me the whole time which would have been so much fun for me, yuck.

Looking at my watch, I see that it's almost time for my meeting with Marc so I head off to my office. I was going to have dad wait in the lounge for me but with Sid entertaining him I should have the thirty minutes I need to meet with Marc.

I have just settled into one of my chairs when Marc comes through the door, shuts it and simply stands there awkwardly. I'm used to two different responses from athletes at their first session. They either show great bravado like they don't really need help but they came for the hell of it. Or they will be extremely awkward and unsure of what to do. Marc seems to be the latter.

I gesture to the other chair and ask "I haven't seen a new picture of Stella in more than a week Marc, what kind of father are you?"

As I hoped, that does the trick and Marc quickly sits and searches for pictures on his phone. After admiring the chubby and gorgeous girl, I sit back and wait for Marc to do the same.

"What brings you here?" I ask him.

Marc gives me his trademark smile and says "it's complicated."

It looks like I need to do more to put him at ease. "You started with a new visualization coach over the summer. What did you decide on and how is that working for you?"

This eases Marc into the conversation.

"We focused on seeing the game and actions. Looking and focusing solely on the end and winning takes me out of my game. That's when the game gets completely away from me. Now, I sit in the rink before the game and visualize my moves. I know that I'll be against Stamkos in the Tampa games and he has a wicked wrister so I need to be down in my crest. In Washington, Ovechkin will always deke and shoot from the dot. "

"That's great Marc. Visualization is a key to planning and preparing for the game. What kind of language do you use to go with the visuals?"

Marc looks at me confused. "What do you meant?"

I explain. "Process-oriented key words really help you focus on things that you can control and when combined with visualization techniques in your pre-game routine, you are able to create a confident mindset in which you can see and feel yourself in game situations playing your game. It helps you look at the individual actions and moves rather than the result from the action or move. They're also easy mantra type phrases that you can echo in your mind during the game."

"It makes sense. What kind of words?"

"Goalies usually use different words than forwards. They could be "square", "challenge", "high and set", "out and big", "fluid", "solid", "a wall" or "one shot at a time". These are all things that you can control. Essentially, you focus on doing what it takes to win, instead of focusing on having to win. If you do what it takes to win then you'll win."

"That's a little simplistic, non?" he asks.

"It's always easier to say than do Marc; but, this is a simple way to let your talent and skill shine through. You focus on everything but the outcome of the game. The outcome will take care of itself if you and all of the players are focusing on the things they need to do to win. Think about how your physically refine your game in the off season. You aren't overhauling how you stand in your crease or your type of butterfly. You look for the little and simple things. As an elite athlete, your performance is made on the little things."

I can see that Marc has moved from doubtful to considering what I've said so I decide to push him a little bit further.

"Marc, what does Mike Bales say to you over and over? What is he consistently reminding you to do when he coaches you?"

Now Marc smiles "be square, be fluid, and challenge."

"Now you have three 'words' to add to your visualizing. What do you think?"

He looks pondering and deep in thought so I wait for him to consider and then respond.

"You're not what I expected Mac?"

That surprises me and not much does as a therapist.

"What do you mean Marc?"

"I thought that we would talk about how I'm feeling with Voukie out and all the pressure on me."

I hide my smile and simply say "is that what you want to talk about Marc?"

"Fuck no" he responds and turns slightly red. "Sorry."

"Nothing I haven't heard before Marc. Look, if you feel that you would like to talk to someone with a more traditional therapy focus then I have a few very good people that I can recommend. Sometimes that is needed. What I'm here to do is help this team form and stay stronger together. I'm also here to help everyone play better regardless of how that happens."

I take a sip of my water as Marc says "you're sure helping Sid."

I immediately start choking on my water. Oh my God. What does Marc mean? I'm hacking and coughing; water is even coming out of my nose. Grabbing a tissue, I wipe myself up and wait until I can talk again.

"Are you ok?" Marc asks me.

"Yeah, it went down the wrong way. Good thing it's just water." Now I know I'm a great actress because I say "What were you saying?"

"Just that you've been doing a lot to help Sid whatever it is. There was a rough period about two weeks ago but since then he's been on and even better than ever."

"I don't know that I did anything really Marc." I need to change the subject quickly. "Have we landed in a good place here? Do you have some things to try out at tomorrow's game? We can have a quick chat after the game or the next day to see how it worked for you."

"Sounds great Mac" he says as he gets up to leave. "Merci."

"De rien" I reply.

I make some quick notes in Marc's file and then decide to find dad. Hopefully he hasn't talked Sid's ear off. It doesn't take me long to find him.

In the players' lounge, Dad is sitting at one of the high tables and he's surrounded by guys, at least eight of them, hanging on his every word.

"Oh yeah" dad is telling them. "That year on the team we had Nilan, Chelios, Claude Lemieux, Roy of course. Roy is why I didn't get to play many games. He was on fire. We won the Cup that year."

There are some 'wow' and 'holy shit' from the guys until James asks "is your name on the Cup?"

I watch the shadow come over dad's face. He was injured that year and forced to retire so his name wasn't eligible to be put on the Cup. It's something he has always regretted.

"Are you guys talking my dad's ear off or the other way around?" I say loudly and interrupt the awkward moment. "Reliving the glory days dad?"

The guys all chuckle now as I'd hoped.

"We don't have much time dad. Why don't we head to my apartment so that you can unpack before we have dinner? We'll be back for tomorrow's practice."

Dad waves to everyone and follows me down the hall, silently. Now he's in a mood. It's going to be a very long afternoon.

I don't know why but I'm nervous for dinner tonight. I put Lizzy to bed and then showered, again, before dressing. I went through four of five options finally settling on a dress shirt and jeans. It's going to be casual so I don't want to be too dressed up.

As I drive to the Lemieux's, I think back over the tour I gave Pat, Mac's father. The man was like a child seeing a toy for the first time. He asked a lot of questions especially about the new equipment and things we do since he played. He knew everyone too. With every player or coach we saw, Pat knew their names and something about them. He was affable and friendly which makes me wonder about his relationship with his daughter. It wouldn't be the first time that a player's dad was great in public and an ass in private. I guess I'll get to know him more tonight at dinner.

I arrive at the same time as Mac and her dad. Pat immediately greets me and we shake hands before he takes a long look at Mario's house. It is impressive by any standards. When I look at Mac, she's smiling but it's a fake one. Her lips are pursed and slightly strained. When she gets closer, I reach for her hand but she shakes her head and walks past me. That's so weird. I'll need to get her alone and see what's going on.

Nathalie opens the door for us and there are greetings all the way around. We find Mario in the kitchen pour a glass of wine. He looks up and smiles.

"Hi Mac, Sid. You must be Pat" he says to her father and holds out his hand.

"Mario, wow, it is great to meet you. I loved watching you play. I saw you play every time you came to Toronto or Buffalo." Pat fawns over Mario but in a cute way.

"That's great. Thanks Pat" Mario replies.

Mario pours us all glasses of wine and we make ourselves comfortable in the family room.

"Where are all the rug rats?" I ask.

"You know what it's like now that they're older. There are practices and games, a lot of activities at school and Austin is on a date" Nathalie replies. "Pat, you know what it's like to have a teenager. They're always off doing one thing or another, right?"

"I never had trouble with this one" Pat says and nods in Mac's direction. "She was either studying or on the ice, right girlie?"

Mac smiles and nods.

"I don't know if you've experienced this with your kids, but I always had to push Mac to practice harder, work out harder. She would slack if you let her" Pat says.

Mario is his diplomatic self "kids will be kids I guess Pat. They have lots of interests and their attention bounces from thing to thing. I find that they'll find their way if you give them enough space."

"That may work with your kids, but not this one" Pat says and points at Mac again. "She was impossible to get out of bed and to the rink. The only way to handle her was to skate the lazy out like they did in Miracle, skate 'em till the puke."

Pat laughs at his own comment – I can't call it a joke – and I know that I'm about to lose my cool. How can a father talk about his own daughter that way? Before Lizzy, I would have thought him rude and obnoxious, but now that I have a daughter it is incomprehensible to me that a father could talk about his daughter that way; ever.

I don't know if Mario sees that I'm getting pissed or he's simply fed up himself, but he changes the conversation quickly to the wine that they're drinking. That conversation leads to a tour of the wine cellar.

Wanting to talk with Mac, I say "we'll wait for you guys up here."

The three of them leave the room and Mac walks to the fireplace with her wine. She looks, I can't describe how she looks, except to say that I want to pull her into my arms.

"What's going on Mac?"

She takes a sip of her wine and asks "what do you mean?"

I simply tilt my head and keep looking at her.

"Fine, everything is ok, really."

"That wasn't convincing."

Now she gives me a real smile.

"Sid, he's a great guy, you've seen it yourself. Everyone loves my dad."

"Sure, yeah, but I'm asking about you."

"You caught that avoidance did you?"

"Didn't take a shrink to catch it Mac."

"Sid, our relationship is complicated. He always wanted a son and my mom could only have one child so he was stuck with me. When I was playing hockey, he was interested and pushed me to be the best and, yeah, he rode me hard. Outside of the rink, he wasn't mean or abusive he was just, well, disinterested. He simply didn't have any interest in me if I wasn't playing hockey and when I was he was intense."

Now the pieces are fitting together. Mac's need to help others and simply be needed comes from her complicated relationship with her father. I wonder if she's even seen him since she blew out her knee and couldn't play hockey anymore. Now he's fascinated because he gets to meet Mario and spend time with the players. Pat may be an affable and friendly guy but he isn't proving to be a caring father.

The depth of her pain is evident in her eyes. Neglect can be just as painful as any overt abuse and I'm not willing to put aside how he treated her when she played. I take her wine and place it on the mantle with mine then pull Mac to me. She tries to push away but gives in and lets me pull her completely into my arms. I can feel the tension leave her body. It's a body I learn so well just a few weeks ago.

She's so strong and self-assertive that she always surprises me with these bundles of need that she shows only when forced. I pull back and look into her wet eyes.

"You must think I'm stupid Sid. He was a great dad and did so much for me. I became the hockey player I was because of his coaching and support."

I sigh and ask "but off the ice?"

"Yeah, let's just say that I was never dad's princess as Lizzy is for you."

I smile but it's sad. Every girl should be able to count on her father for anything and know that he'll always love and take care for her. My heart breaks to think that Mac never had that in her life.

She looks so sad right now. I lower my lips to hers in a soft kiss. I think that we're both surprised and, with our eyes still open, our lips part and then meet again. The kisses are soft and sweet. I try to convey every bit of caring I have for her in that kiss and don't even try to think that I shouldn't be kissing my friend. Changing the angle of the kiss, we both take it deeper and wrap our arms around each.

I hear Pat laugh and know that they're coming back. We pull apart quickly. Mac looks as confused as I feel but we don't have any time to examine this because Pat and the Lemieuxs come into the family room again. Mac and I each take our glass of wine and sit on separate couches. It's going to be a long night.

Author's Note: sorry for the long wait. As if I needed more drama in my life, I was in a horrible car accident on Tuesday. Car was totaled and I broke my patella. Wasn't my fault and my car and knee took the hit. Arg!