Chapter Text
The first time Willa saw Ilya Rozanov was as she watched out her bedroom window as his moving boxes were being unloaded into the house next door.
No, that’s not right. Actually the first time she saw Ilya was watching a Boston Bears game on the TV and hearing her dad tell her mom, “I know that we shouldn’t like Rozanov, but he just looks like he is having so much fun on the ice. Even when he’s checking our players into the boards and being an asshole.” Willa was maybe 5 at the time and was playing in Tykes league, and she understood Ilya because smashing into the other players when they got in her way was her favorite part of hockey. Her family were diehard Centaurs fans, as all good Ottawa families were, but she secretly loved to watch Ilya chirp & terrorize the other teams he played. She practiced his smirk as she stared down the boys on opposing teams when they laughed about playing against a girl. She tried using a few of his insults on her little brother Andrew when he was annoying her too. That got her in big trouble, but she was pretty sure her dad was laughing a little too.
In 2018, Willa’s best friend Josie who lived next door moved away. She and Josie had spent every day together, playing outside, climbing trees, and generally causing neighborhood mayhem. Willa approached the end of school with dread, just knowing what a boring summer she would have with no one next door to play with.
A few months after Josie moved, Willa’s dad came home from work and said, “You’ll never believe who is moving in next door!”
“Is Josie moving back?!?” Willa asked breathlessly.
“Willa, you know that’s not going to happen, no matter how much you wish it was so. No, someone at work said Ilya Rozanov bought the house next door!”
“Surely not,” Willa’s mom said. “Why would he want to live in a neighborhood full of families? You know everyone in Boston says he’s a…” Then Willa’s mom whispered something to her dad behind her hand. Why did grownups always do stuff like that?
“No, it’s true. I pulled up the property records just to double check. He closed on the house last week,” Willa’s dad said. “Do you think he needs any help unpacking?”
“Bill, I am sure the multimillionaire hockey player moving in next door can afford to hire his own movers. Don’t be so nosy,” said Willa’s mom.
“Well, maybe I’ll just stop by with some beer later. Just to say hello.”
“Can I please go too, Dad? You know he’s my favorite player!” Willa begged shamelessly.
“Me too,” exclaimed Andrew.
“You don’t even like the Bears, Andrew,” Willa said as she knocked him into the counter.
“He doesn’t play for the Bears anymore, dummy. He plays for the Centaurs now!” Andrew stuck out his tongue.
“Kids, seriously, knock it off. I’m sure it would be fine if you both went with Dad to say hi to Mr. Rozanov. It’s the least we can do to introduce him to the chaos monsters next door and apologize in advance for you two. Thank God he has a lot of trees and a gate,” Willa’s mom said.
This is how exactly two weeks later Willa, Andrew, their mom, and their dad find themselves at the bottom of Ilya’s Rozanov’s driveway carrying a six pack of locally brewed beer, a pizza, & a vase of flowers and pushing an intercom button and waiting for an answer.
The house had been swarming with activity yesterday. A moving van (surprisingly small for such a wealthy man), a locally owned furniture delivery truck, and several other vehicles (including a Jeep? Rozanov had a fucking Jeep? Wasn’t he supposed to be into sportscars?) had lined the circular driveway most of the day. Willa had climbed a tree at the property line to try to get a closer look, but she couldn’t climb high enough to see much beyond the backs of people carrying boxes. By mid-afternoon the driveway had cleared out and the house seemed fairly quiet. Today there had not been a bit of movement.
“Hello?” A lightly Russian accented voice said as the intercom picked up.
“Uh, hello Mr. Rozanov. This is Bill, uh, your next door neighbor? The kids, my wife Kate, and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. We brought you some food and things as a housewarming, just in case you hadn’t eaten anything yet. Uh….”
Kate elbowed Bill and took over, “We are not trying to intrude Mr. Rozanov. We are happy to have you joining us in the neighborhood. You are probably very busy, so just let us know if you are not available. At some point we’d like to introduce you to our children, Willa and Andrew, just because, well. You know how kids are. Actually, no you probably don’t. But, maybe we should warn you.”
There was a brief silence on the other end of the intercom, along with some muffled whispering. Oh God, Kate thought to herself. He’s got a woman here. She prepared herself to cover her children’s eyes if needed.
“Thank you, that is so kind,” Ilya responded belatedly. “Let me just buzz you in, hold on.” With a groan the gate swung inward and Willa’s family walked up the driveway.
The front door was already open as they approached. Willa’s eyes widened as she saw Ilya up close. He was HUGE. She had seen him on TV plenty and had even seen him play against the Centaurs in Ottawa, but somehow he never seemed quite so big.
Kate was shocked too. Every impression she had of Ilya was that he was an asshole womanizer. The gorgeous blonde in front of her seemed a little nervous? Shy? And he was smiling (not smirking)?
“Hello neighbors, it is nice to meet you!” Ilya crouched down to Willa and Andrew’s level. “I am Ilya. What are your names?”
“Hi Mr. Rozanov, I’m Willa Hughes. I’m 8 years old and I play center in hockey just like you.” Andrew just stared at Ilya with his mouth open. Willa elbowed him and hissed, “ANDREW, tell him your name.”
“I’m Andrew Hughes,” Andrew whispered, barely audible.
“He’s six,” Willa said and rolled her eyes.
“Well it is nice to meet you Willa and Andrew. Thank you for coming to say hello. Who is here with you?” Ilya shifted his eyes up to Willa’s parents.
“I’m Kate Hughes; it’s so nice to meet you. I am so sorry if we are intruding.”
“Bill, uh, yeah, I think I said that? Uh, Bill Hughes. Nice to meet you.” Willa’s dad had a red face and was clearly starstruck.
“You are not intruding. I am just not so used to having friendly neighbors, I think! Please come inside. It is a mess but welcome.”
The Hughes family stepped into the large home, which frankly, was not that messy considering the recent move. It was, however, fairly empty.
“Thank you so much for the gifts. That is so nice of you. You Canadians are not beating the friendly allegations. Let me take those,” Ilya said as he led them through the entryway into the massive kitchen. He set the pizza on the kitchen island and moved to put the beer into the nearly empty fridge. Kate set the vase of fresh flowers on the island as well.
“We picked the flowers from the backyard for you, Mr. Rozanov,” Willa said. Her eyes were as big as saucers as she saw a framed photo of Ilya hoisting the Stanley Cup leaning against a wall in the hallway. She nudged Andrew with her arm and pointed to it.
Ilya was clearly charmed by the kids. “Please call me Ilya. I am your neighbor, not your teacher. We can be friends, yes?” Willa and Andrew nodded seriously while their parents grinned goofily behind them.
“Excuse me for just a moment, I will be right back.” Ilya stepped away down a separate hallway. The Hughes family heard a door shut. They stood in Ilya Rozanov’s kitchen like deer in headlights, not really knowing what to expect. Ilya came back less than a minute later, with someone trailing behind him.
“Willa, you said you play center, yes? How would you like to meet my friend, Shane Hollander? He is okay at playing center, I think, maybe?” Ilya said with his characteristic teasing.
Shane stood slightly behind him, looking just as awkward as he usually did in interviews. He was blushing a little, and looked out of place in something besides Montreal Voyageurs official gear.
“Is this real life?” Willa whispered as her eyes bounced back and forth between Ilya and Shane Hollander. Her mom elbowed her and pushed her forward a few inches.
“Uh, yes, I play center. Hi Mr. Hollander, um, it is so nice to meet you. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.”
Ilya pulled Hollander forward as he said, “My good friend, Shane, and I are both running hockey camps for charity. He is here to help me plan for this summer. Maybe you and your brother would like to come? We are doing one in Ottawa in a few weeks?” With this last statement Ilya quirked one eyebrow up at Bill and Kate.
Hollander whispered to Ilya, “Rozanov, I think the camp is already full.” Then he said in a louder voice, “Um, sorry, but I think camp is already full for this year. But maybe next year?”
Ilya burst in before Hollander could even finish his sentence, “Shane, there is plenty of room for our good friends Willa and Andrew at camp. They are so small, there is plenty of space for our two small friends.” He winked at Willa and Andrew then to the Hughes parents he said, “It is no problem, we want them to come. I send you information. Well, Yuna will send. You know Yuna? Shane’s mom? She is nice lady. Can you give me your email?”
Kate dutifully jotted down her email address while Andrew gazed adoringly up at Shane Hollander who was getting redder by the minute. Willa was inching closer to Ilya, then leaned forward and whispered, “Mr. Ilya, can you teach me how to hit harder? ”
Ilya’s face broke into a huge grin. “Ah, Willa! I see we will get along nicely. Shane, why don’t you shake Andrew’s hand please?” Ilya reached out to fistbump Willa as he said, “I will teach you all of my tricks, okay?”
“Don’t encourage her,” Bill muttered.
Shane was dutifully shaking Andrew’s tiny hand as instructed while Andrew held on for dear life. Willa elbowed him again and whispered, “Don’t be weird!” Andrew dropped Hollander’s hand and stared at his own in awe.
“Well, ah, thank you so much for inviting us in, Mr. Rozanov. We don’t want to interrupt your planning with Mr. Hollander here. We just wanted to welcome you and uh, well, perhaps warn you a bit. Our kids can get a little adventurous at times, so, um, let me just leave my phone number for you in case you, um, ever need to get ahold of us. In case, well, in case the kids are bothering you, basically.”
“Call me Ilya, please, Kate. I am sure we will not have any problems, right, Willa? Andrew? We will be good friends. But I will take your number and send you mine in case of emergency, no? You can call me if parties are too loud or if you need something. Just, please, don’t share, yes? I do not need my phone number passed around Ottawa, at least not yet. I just got here. There was an incident in Boston, ah well, not in front of kids, I think...”
Hollander rolled his eyes.
“Of course, we would never,” Bill stammered.
Ilya smiled. Kate rounded up the children and the entire Hughes family headed back toward the front door. Willa’s head was on a swivel taking in everything she could see as her dad dragged her along.
“Goodbye Ilya! Goodbye Mr. Hollander! See you at camp!” Willa shouted as they exited. Ilya waved happily behind them before closing the door.
As the Hughes family walked down Ilya’s driveway, Kate burst out laughing.
“What is so funny?” Bill bumbled.
“It’s just, he is so NICE. On TV, in interviews, in all of the tabloids, they make him seem so cold and heartless. That man in there, ‘Ilya’ is a giant puppy dog. He gave us his phone number! He invited our kids to his camp! He introduced us to Shane Hollander!” Kate giggled and shook her head.
“Well he also warned us about his parties,” Bill said with a sideways glance at Kate.
“It’s a big house with a big yard. We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it.”
“I love parties!” Andrew exclaimed. “Maybe he will have a bounce house & Mr. Hollander will be there & he can jump with me!”
Willa rolled her eyes. “ANDREW, Shane Hollander will not bounce with you. He is way too careful for that. I bet he’s never even been inside a bouncehouse. He only plays hockey. I just want Mr. Ilya to help me with my backhand. Dad, can I bring my stick over to his house tomorrow to practice?”
“Kids, as nice as Ilya was, you can’t just go over there any time you want. He is very busy. He just moved here and joined a new team. He will be busy with practice and games. You need to give him his privacy.”
The Hughes family walked back into their own home. Kate was surprised to see that she already had an email from Yuna Hollander (!) with forms to fill out for the kids’ camp enrollments with the Irina Foundation.
Bill put the kids to bed while Kate completed the necessary forms. She sent them over to Mrs. Hollander with a note to please let her know about how to send payment. Within minutes she had a reply stating that Ilya had covered the cost of the kids’ camp fees. Kate stared at her laptop screen in disbelief. Who was this Ilya Rozanov? It almost seemed as if he had been body swapped during the move from Boston to Ottawa. This surely was not the same man who had slept his way through half of Boston? She finally shrugged. She guessed they would see what Ilya was really like as time passed.
Willa lay wide awake in bed, replaying the memories of the evening over and over. She shook Ilya’s hand. She met Shane Hollander. She went INSIDE Ilya’s house. She was going to Ilya and Shane’s HOCKEY CAMP. Ilya called her his FRIEND. She fell asleep dreaming of pucks hitting nets and crowds cheering.
The next morning, Kate’s phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number. It simply said, “Have Willa and Andrew check front door. -Ilya” Sitting on the porch steps was a gift basket filled with Ottawa Centaurs merchandise. There was a little stuffed mascot, some official branded toques, four customized Rozanov Ottawa jerseys (in the correct sizes somehow), and a note that said, “I have four season opener tickets for my first real Ottawa friends. Please come cheer us on so I am not nervous in new city.”
Willa immediately pulled her jersey on and threw Andrew’s at him. Kate snapped a photo of the two kids to send to Ilya, Willa holding up 8 fingers and Andrew holding up just 1. She sent it off to Ilya with a simple, “Thanks. We’ll be there,” text message. Kate’s heart squeezed a little when Ilya hearted the photo.