Tension
As Clarie was finalizing her outfit, a knock resounded through her home. Her blonde waves were styled with one side elegantly pinned back, complementing her ensemble of a green knitted tank top with bow-tied straps, straight-leg jeans, black heels, and a matching leather jacket. As she prepared to out that evening for a little fun, her father announced the arrival of their guest.
"Hey Mac, are you here for Claire?" her father inquired at the door.
"Yeah, coach, is she ready?" Robbie's voice echoed from the entrance.
"Clarie!" her father called out to her.
Eagerly, Clarie made her way downstairs, greeted by her best friend, ready for an evening out. "I'm glad you're here, Mac. Have a great time tonight," her father expressed, with a note of caution, "But not too much fun, Clarie."
"Okay, Dad," she replied, while her father added, "And Mac, make sure she stays out of trouble."
"Always, sir," Mac replied Robbie's protective nature had only intensified after the Danvers incident, often appearing more like a protective brother than merely a friend. And Herb knew he could count on Mac to make sure Clarie stayed out of trouble.
As they headed to the bar, Clarie and Robbie were engulfed in conversations about the excitement of the upcoming Olympics and fondly reminisced on moments of their friendship.
Upon their entrance to the bar, Robbie casually placed his arm around Clarie, marking their arrival. The Boston table, instantly noticing them, paused and observed as Mac and Clarie made their entrance. Their gaze lingered, curious and perhaps a bit speculative, as the pair crossed the threshold.
It was a scene that caught Jack's attention particularly, prompting him to murmur, "Is she really with him?" Other at the table however spoke louder
"Yeah, that guy's really lucky," he remarked, his tone tinged with a hint of envy. "I saw her talking to him and giving him a hug after tryouts."
Meanwhile, across the room, Robbie and Claire were oblivious to the attention they were attracting.
Claire engaged warmly with the Minnesota group, seamlessly blending in. Between conversations, she moved through the crowd to grab another drink, her presence weaving a thread of familiarity and ease throughout the evening, under the watchful eyes of both her old friends and the intrigued Boston table.
After mingling with the Minnesota players and fetching a drink, Clarie pondered her next move.
In her role, Clarie understood the need to knit the team together, not just sticking to her Minnesota roots but also embracing the Boston contingent.
As she approached the Boston table, she confidently asked, "Mind if I sit here?" even as she removed her jacket, revealing the snug fit of her green knitted cropped tank, that emphasized the subtle contours of her figure and her toned physique beneath. It was much of a surprise as she was covered up earlier in the day.
Silk couldn't help but mutter a low "Damn" at the sight, earning a smirk from Clarie.
"Sure." One of the boys, she recognized as Mike Eurizione, told her. "I'm Rizzo."
"I know," Clarie responded with a playful edge. "I'm Clarie."
"Yeah, you're Herb's daughter," Dave Silk chimed in.
"That's me," she acknowledged with a charming smile.
"So what do you know about these?" Silk asked, motioning to the paper in front of him.
The conversation turned to the daunting test Herb had assigned, Clarie leaned in, her interest piqued, sharing her own experience with the test and subtly flirting under the guise of commiseration.
Claire smiled. "Just that I had to do one too."
"Herb made his daughter take this test?" Silk asked in disbelief.
Claire smiled and then shrugged. "It's just his way of seeing if you've got what it takes."
Silk made a face. "There are 300 damned questions, all multiple choice and none of them making any sense."
"It's just a test, Silky, you've taken one or two before," Rizzo told him, diligently writing down his answers.
"Not to play hockey, I haven't," Silk muttered.
"Can you even read, Silky?" Jack O'Callahan, by far one of the best-looking young men Clarie had ever seen, teased.
Silk shot him a dirty look.
Jack's earlier moment with Clarie had lingered in his thoughts, he seized the opportunity to flirt back.
"So what's a nice Minnesota girl doing sitting with a bunch of guys from Boston and not your boys from Minnesota?"
Claire smiled. "Because I already know them. I don't know you guys yet," Clarie teased back, her tone suggesting she was open to more than just conversation. "Plus, I'm not as nice as I look."
"Sounds good to me." Ralph Cox, another guy at the table, answered.
"Want a drink?" Jack offered, motioning to the pitcher of beer.
"She doesn't drink beer." A voice from behind Clarie commented. "She's more of a bourbon-on-the-rocks type of girl, isn't that right, Clarie?"
Claire looked behind her, unsurprised to see Robbie standing there. Robbie, her protective shadow, interjected, hinting at her preference for stronger spirits. Despite Robbie's attempt to sway her choice.
Claire flirtatiously leaned into Jack's offer, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes as she addressed him, intentionally brushing off Robbie's comment.
"Well, Mac might have a point, but tonight, I think a beer sounds perfect," she said to Jack, her tone playful and inviting, clearly enjoying the dynamic unfolding between them.
Claire played along with Jack's offer, signaling her interest in getting to know him better, much to Robbie's annoyance. Robbie rolled his eyes at her and nodded at Rizzo. "Hey, Rizzo." He said before making his way across the room.
"Mac." Rizzo acknowledged, even as Robbie was walking away, stopping to talk to people on his way over to the Minnesota table.
Claire caught Jack's cold glare fixed on Robbie's departing figure, the air charged with an unspoken rivalry. The undercurrent of tension between Jack and Robbie was unmistakable, rooted in unresolved issues from their hockey past.
"Easy big guy." Rizzo urged in a calming voice, noting it as well.
"I don't know how you guys can stand to be in the same room as that clown," Jack shot in agitation.
"Let it go, it's over." Rizzo urged. "Let it go."
"What's going on?" Clarie asked and Ralph Cox voiced the same question a second later.
"O.C.'s got a little unfinished business over there," Dave Silk explained, his tone suggesting an old, yet still tender, wound..
"Not for long I don't," Jack shot back.
"Hey. What did I tell you, man," Rizzo started.
Rizzo tried to quell the rising tension, signaling Jack to drop the matter with a discreet, "Let it go."
"McClannahan," Cox stated. "You're not still going on about the '76 playoffs are you?"
Clarie's curiosity was piqued; she vividly recalled the intense excitement of that championship year, the victory celebrations that had followed. "Oh, that," she remarked, a mix of nostalgia and disbelief coloring her voice.
Could Jack still be harboring resentment after all this time?
"Come on O.C. that was like three years ago," Cox continued.
"Let me ask you something Coxie," O.C. started. "Why'd you want to play college hockey?"
"Cox, with a hint of humor, draped an arm around Clarie, "For the glory... and the girls." She smirked at him.
Claire, amused yet assertive, gently removed his arm, "And how's that working out for you?"
Cox laughed off the challenge.
He just laughed. "I'm serious, Coxie," Jack demanded. "Why'd you want to play college hockey?"
"Because I love to play hockey," Coxie answered. "I wanted to go the NHL, just like everybody does."
"Well I wanted to win a National Championship," Jack shot at him. "And that pansy over there cheap shots me; I get knocked out of the game. He steals the ring right off my finger. How would you feel?"
Clarie's gaze fell to the table, memories of the contentious game flooding back. She remembered cheering wildly for Minnesota's win, caught up in the joy of victory with Robbie and her then-boyfriend Caleb, without a second thought for Jack's plight.
Given her father's role as the coach of the Minnesota team and her longstanding friendship with Robbie, Clarie's sympathies naturally gravitated towards her Minnesota connections, even in the heat of controversy.
"Everyone was throwing cheap shots that night," Rizzo started up.
"You know it's funny that you say that Rizzo," Jack snapped. "Because I was just wondering whose side you were on."
"I'm on your side," Rizzo insisted.
"You know it really seems that way," Jack shot out sarcastically. "I'm not doing this now. I'm outta here."
"Where you going?" Rizzo called after him as he got up.
"To my room," Jack shot back. "Is that okay with you, Mother?"
Claire, witnessing this exchange, questioned, "Is he always so intense?"
"Jeez, no wonder the guy gets so many penalty minutes, right?" Ralph started trying to break the nervous tension.
Caught between her childhood friend and the new, compelling figure from Boston, Clarie felt out of place amidst the Boston contingent, her memories of the contentious '76 game and her mixed loyalties weighing heavily on her.
Deciding to return to familiar territory, she excused herself, "This has been interesting, but I should head back."
"It was nice talking to you." She said, before crossing the room to the Minnesota table.
She had felt like a bit of an intruder at the Boston table, with her memories of '76 and her divided loyalties.
Robbie, spotting her return, couldn't resist a jab, "Back to where you belong, huh?"
Claire fixed him with a pointed look, "Seems you've made quite the impression on O'Callahan."
"It's all in the past," Robbie dismissed, though Clarie sensed the underlying tension.
"This past could affect our future," Clarie murmured. "We're supposed to be a team."
Robbie, unphased, slid a drink towards her, a peace offering of sorts. Claire accepted, the familiar taste of bourbon on the rocks a testament to Robbie's understanding of her preferences, yet it also reminded her of his sometimes overprotective nature—a concern she felt she no longer needed.
Several hours into the evening, Clarie decided it was time to head home. The night had been unexpectedly enjoyable, allowing her to make significant progress in connecting with the team. She had spent her time engaging with both the Boston and Minnesota groups, learning about the new faces and reconnecting with familiar ones.
She had spent a long time talking with Rizzo, in particular, and discovered that she enjoyed his company. She found that to be true of most of the guys. She might not have to be their friend, but she was thinking that she was going to want to be.
"Heading out, Clarie?" Robbie inquired upon noticing her stand.
"Yes," she confirmed, her mind made up about wanting to forge friendships with some players, knowing full well it might not be feasible with others.
Several hours into the evening, Clarie decided it was time to head home. The night had been unexpectedly enjoyable, allowing her to make significant progress in connecting with the team.
She had spent her time engaging with both the Massachusetts and Minnesota groups, learning about the new faces and reconnecting with familiar ones, all while sidestepping Robbie's playful remarks on her flirting with Jack.
Her conversation with Rizzo had been particularly memorable, revealing a camaraderie she hadn't anticipated. While she didn't need to form friendships with everyone, she found herself genuinely wanting to be friends with many of them.
"Heading out, Clarie?" Robbie inquired upon noticing her stand.
"Yes," she confirmed,
"I can drive you home," he suggested.
"No, that's okay," Clarie declined gracefully. "Kate's leaving now too; I'll go with her. You stay and enjoy the rest of the evening."
Robbie seemed ready to insist again, but Clarie reassured him, "I'm perfectly capable, and Kate's company is just fine for the short walk."
Robbie relented with a resigned "Alright."
"At least let me walk you to your car." Robbie offered.
Claire shot him a look. "Mac, seriously it's fine."
Sensing tension between the friends, Rizzo spoke up. "I'm leaving anyway, I can walk you out," he said, filling in the sudden silence.
Meeting Mac's nod of gratitude, he added, "Thanks man, if anything were to happen to her, Herb would let us have it."
"You don't have to," Clarie told him.
"It's okay, I'm leaving anyway." He assured her.
Clarie just nodded and the two of them exited the bar. "Do I want to ask?"
Claire smiled slightly, knowing what Rizzo was getting at.
"It's a long story." She told him. "
Rizzo nodded, though he still looked curious. However, thankfully he didn't say anything else. The last thing she wanted was to dredge up the drama of '76, a chapter she preferred to remain closed.