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Marie’s eyes were closed, but she wasn’t sleeping. The adrenaline from the game had yet to wear off, and between that and the pain in her leg, sleep was going to be hard to come by.
She’d taken as many painkillers as she safely could in order to play, and she wasn’t about to push her luck just so she could nap.
Laura was curled up next to her, also not asleep. Her breathing wasn’t even enough, she didn’t sit heavily enough. Laura was full of so much energy, spring-coiled movement, she felt so alive even when perfectly still.
Clarky was out, told Marie she could have the room for the night. If she’d been anyone else she would have winked, but she was almost shy about these things.
They’d made good use of the room. Laura had gotten her off almost carefully, keeping her left leg completely out of it, giving her other sensations to focus on. They knew how to navigate each other’s injured bodies, knew how to give each other pleasure while keeping pain out of it. Laura had done it twice, one for each goal, a gentle celebration.
Marie took a deep breath, trying to focus on something other than her leg. She was grateful beyond belief that she was able to play, but if she thought too hard about what could be her last Olympic game and the fact that she’d be playing injured, she saw red. Worse, she saw silver.
They hadn’t really talked about it, how old she was, how much time an Olympic cycle took. Her last text exchange with Sid had begun with her congratulating him on his fifth Olympics, and ended with him saying that if he’d been playing like her at 34, he’d try to get to ten.
Her last text exchange with Hilary had begun with Marie asking if she was sure, and Hilary responding that she was. Hil had always been possessed of a kind of certainty, a confidence that showed in her play. Marie respected her deeply, but there was very little that she envied. She envied that.
Hilary hadn’t known she’d broken the American scoring record. Marie envied that, too. She’d wanted those goals, wanted to take her place on top. The golden girl her entire adult life, she couldn’t help it.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by her phone ringing. She opened her eyes and reached over to grab it, eyebrows lifting when she saw the name scrolling across the screen.
Laura lifted her head, looking at her. Marie tilted the phone to show her.
Hilary Knight.
Laura’s eyes widened, and she sat up. She did not ask if Marie was going to answer. She knew.
“Hello,” Marie said, lifting the phone to her ear. She didn’t put it on speaker, wouldn’t without Hilary knowing that Laura was there.
“Hey! Congrats, Captain.”
Marie smiled. Hilary insisted on calling her that with the Canadiennes, and it had stuck.
“You called to congratulate me?”
She could hear Hilary’s shrug. “Kind of. And to say I’m looking forward to Thursday.”
“One last time, eh?” Marie asked, her heart hurting, but it was a pleasant sort of ache. Hilary had been there her entire career, almost always on the other side, almost always with a smile. Knowing that she was laying her stick down after this made Marie feel like it didn’t matter if she stuck it out through another Olympiad. Her era was coming to an end.
“It’s been an honour,” Hilary said, equally bittersweet. “Wouldn’t have wanted to do it against anyone else.”
Marie swallowed. It was strange, their relationship. They weren’t quite friends, they weren’t just rivals. Hilary hadn’t been invited to their wedding, but she’d thought about it.
“Neither would I, Knighter.”
“I’m sure you guys have plans, but I was thinking- dinner on, say, Saturday?”
“Loser buys?” Marie asked, feeling a twinge of excitement and anxiety. She wasn’t sure she could face Hilary so soon, if they lost.
“No,” Hilary said. “No, just. Like a normal meal. Me and Britt, you and Laura. I get if it’s too soon, but I just thought. While we’re here.”
Hilary had never had the reservations that Marie did. She remembered a hazy past, back before Geneviève had met Emerance, a time when America’s face would flow in between Canadian jerseys only days after a defeat.
“You really are retiring,” Marie said.
Hilary exhaled, almost a laugh. “Yeah, I really am.”
“Alright,” Marie said. “Saturday.”
“Looking forward to it. I’ll pick a place you don’t have to walk too far for,” Hilary said, smile in her voice.
“Fuck off,” Marie replied pleasantly, and Hilary laughed.
“Is Laura there?”
“Oui, you want to say hi?”
“If she’ll let me.”
Marie grinned. It would never do for Laura to learn that Hilary Knight was somewhat afraid of her. She lowered the phone, and pressed the speaker button.
“Hey Hilary,” Laura said, half-cautious, and Marie fought to keep her face even. It wouldn’t do for Hilary to learn that the fear went both ways.
“Hi Laura. You down for dinner on Saturday?”
Laura raised her eyebrows, and looked up at Marie, who nodded.
“I guess,” she said.
“Cool. Well, I’ll see you guys on Thursday.”
Laura grinned. “Not if we see you first.”
“Thanks for calling, Knighter,” Marie said,
“Course. We’re adults now, huh?”
“We’re getting old,” Marie replied.
“Pros and cons,” Hilary said. “I twisted my neck by turning it too fast the other day, but it’s nice that we can have an interaction at the Olympics that doesn’t end with one of us crying.”
“I think,” Marie said, then paused. She hated needing help. “I might call you, after. When it’s all over.”
“Anytime,” Hilary said, kind. “I mean it, Marie. You call, I’ll answer.”
Marie swallowed around the lump in her throat, and Laura moved closer to the phone.
“Hey, tell Britt good luck tomorrow,” she said. “We’ll be cheering for her to come in second.”
Hilary laughed. “I’ll be sure to pass that on,” she said. “You have a good night, guys.”
“You too,” Laura said. “See you Thursday.”
It was a promise, and Hilary knew it. The phone went dark.
Laura pressed herself against Marie, shoulder to shoulder.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hi.”
Laura took her hand. “You okay?”
Marie thought about it. She thought about her stick, and the words she’d written without letting herself actually consider what they meant. Her first, your last, our best.
She thought about how peaceful Hilary sounded, even before the game, just knowing what was next. She thought about the Victoire, how whatever happened here, she had another team to lead to victory. She thought about what a long time four years was, and what a short time too.
“I am,” she said.
Laura pressed her lips to her shoulder. “Alright then, Captain. Let’s get some rest.”
Marie closed her eyes, and sleep found her easily.