Archive of Our Own

May 2027

Ilya bounced his foot on the barstool, mustering all his patience as he feigned interest in what was probably the seventy-fifth blurry picture of a bird on David’s tiny phone screen. It would have been easier to follow if he wasn’t a little distracted by Shane, who was beyond pretending to pay attention and was staring absently down at the table. 

David had invited Ilya out for a ‘retirees lunch’ that he’d later insisted Shane join, but he had spent the last thirty minutes droning on about the warblers and flycatchers that he’d seen that morning at the arboretum. 

He was suggesting that Ilya join him birdwatching. Now that they were both retired, they could seek out some of Canada’s rarer species. As he babbled, he also seemed to be insinuating that once Shane saw how much fun they were having, he wouldn’t be able to resist retiring from hockey. Ilya could practically see Shane’s soul sinking deeper behind his eyes.

Finally, David raised his glass. “Before I go, how about one more cheers to us, retirees!” he said, “And Shane, of course…” 

“Wow, thanks, Dad,” Shane said flatly.

“You’ll see, Shane. Retirement isn’t so bad! You’ll get to have more time for things you actually want to do.” Shane blanched. “Anyways, I’d better get going. I think your mom needs me at the garden store.”

“The garden store? Wait, David. I’ll come help,” Ilya offered, starting to get up. 

“No! No, no, no… No help needed today, Ilya. Just, uh, you can stay with Shane.”

“Are you sure?” Ilya asked, taken aback by the dismissal. “What if Yuna needs to lift something heavy?”

“No heavy lifting today,” David said, a little too quickly. “We’ll let you know next time, okay?” 

“Okay…” Ilya shrugged, sitting back on his barstool.

“And after this, you’re picking up Kaya and then, uh, heading home?” David asked.

“That’s the plan, Dad.”

“Not going out tonight?”

“Uh, n-no?” Shane stammered.

“Right. Well… that’s parenting for you!”

“Dad!” Shane rolled his eyes, his affect instantly reverting to that of a sulky teenager. 

“Thank you for lunch, David,” Ilya said, smiling sweetly to offset Shane’s sour mood. 

“My pleasure! And I’ll be in touch about birdwatching, Ilya.”

“Looking forward to it.”

David clapped them each on the shoulder and headed toward the exit, leaving Shane and Ilya alone. Shane put his elbows on the table and held his head in his hands. “Fuck…,” he muttered. 

Ordinarily, with the hockey season over and the early summer heat wafting into Ontario, they already would have absconded to the cottage, but this year, they were tethered to Ottawa in anticipation of their surrogate’s fast approaching due date. They were at once vibrating with anticipation, overcome with nerves, and inseparable from their phones, which only made things worse. The day when they’d need to drop everything and bolt to the hospital was looming closer, and Shane had never felt more on edge. 

Ilya reached for his hand, but Shane jolted, picking up his phone from the table. “I need to text Hayden about the well pump,” Shane said, “I’m just going to do that real quick so he knows where the switch is.” Since the cottage would be empty for the next several months, he had offered it to Hayden to enjoy with his family, and they were supposedly on their way there. Ilya groaned. “What? Would you like to text him?” 

“No, it’s okay. You do it.” Even after six years of marriage, Ilya remained blissfully unaware of its whereabouts.

“Okay then,” Shane said, bristling. 

While Ilya waited, his phone lit up from a notification. He grabbed it and unlocked it quickly seeing the notification from Kaya’s daycare. The last of the day’s photos had been uploaded to the app. He scrolled through and then zoomed in on one of the pictures. When Shane finished his text message, he looked up to see Ilya’s mouth in a perfect upside-down U. 

“What?” Shane asked.

“She didn’t eat her applesauce!” Ilya whined, showing him his phone.

Shane squinted at it. “She’s probably fine. Yesterday she didn’t eat her carrots. We’re probably packing too much food.”

“I am making sure she has everything she likes!” Ilya said. “She shouldn’t even be in daycare. She should be with me… I will be home all the time now.”

“Oh my God, you would spoil her rotten. Having a routine will be good for her. And if she doesn’t socialize, she might turn out weird or something,” Shane said. “You know, my parents sent me to daycare, and just imagine how weird I’d be if they hadn’t….” 

Ilya’s eyes widened in betrayal. “So I’ve been robbed! I could have had a weirder, freakier Shane?” Suddenly inspired, he held his phone up to his ear. “Hello? Is this Shane Hollander’s daycare?”

“Ilya, what are you...?”

“This is his husband, Ilya Hollander. I am calling to ask what you did to make him so boring?” Shane reached for the phone, but Ilya batted his hand away, leaning back so it was just out of range. 

“You asshole! That’s not even your name!” Ilya snickered at how easy it had been to provoke Shane, and he hoped the moment of levity would help break him out of the nervous cage he seemed to be trapped in.

It didn’t. 

“Just, forget I said that,” Shane said, taking a breath. “Kaya seems to like going, so I think we should keep taking her.” 

“Fine,” Ilya agreed reluctantly.

Shane started pulling his hand back, but Ilya caught it, attempting a new tack for interrupting Shane’s anxious thoughts. He brought Shane’s hand to his lips, decorating his knuckles with kisses, which he soon escalated by sucking one of Shane’s fingers into his mouth. He could practically feel Shane blushing all the way to his fingertips. 

“Ilya,” Shane warned. 

“What?”

“We're in a restaurant.” 

“I can’t help it. I was just thinking about the way you kissed me on the ice after my last game…,” he said, seductively.

“Oh…”

It had been a beautiful game. The Centaurs had low hopes of making it as far as they had in the playoffs, and their appearance in the division championship against Boston exceeded expectations. But by the sixth game in the series, with the Raiders one win away from advancing and the Centaurs trailing by four points, it was clear they wouldn’t make it to the next round. Shane had set up Ilya with an assist, and Ilya expertly planted the puck in the back of the net–a perfect final goal. After the final buzzer, the crowd honored him with a standing ovation from Centaurs and Raiders fans alike. Ilya took a solo lap around the rink, soaking in the crowd’s admiration and blowing kisses into the stands, and when he returned to his cluster of teammates, Shane kissed him deeply for a full three seconds. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t win,” Shane said quietly.

“Then it wouldn’t have been the last game.” He continued pressing kisses to Shane’s knuckles, but when he glanced up at his face, Shane’s chin was trembling and his eyes were wet. “You’re upset….” Ilya raised his eyebrows in a wordless question.

Shane retrieved his hand. “I don’t want to talk about it…. Not here, anyway,” he said, glancing around at the restaurant, which was nearly empty in the mid-afternoon slowdown, but not an ideal place for him to have an emotional breakdown, or to have his fingers suckled on by his husband, for that matter. “Let’s go get Kaya.” 

* * *

An hour later, Shane was pulling the car into their driveway, but found it was already occupied by a red Subaru with a faded Coexist bumper sticker adorning the rear bumper. Shane muttered a confused ‘huh’ as he pulled their car up alongside it.

“That’s Amy’s car,” Ilya said when Shane stared at it blankly. He seemed frozen in the driver’s seat. “Amy?… You know, our surrogate?” Ilya supplied.

“I know who Amy is! But why is she here?” Shane asked, slightly alarmed. There was a growing worry in the pit of his stomach, and he had the fleeting thought that something was wrong with the pregnancy… But then, why was she coming to their house? Shouldn't she be at the hospital? Had they missed a phone call? Shane reached for his phone to check, but it showed nothing. Then he opened up their security app. “The alarm system is offline…,” he told Ilya. “Do you want to stay in the car while I go see what’s going on?”

“She’s our surrogate. Not a burglar.” Ilya eyed the rust on the car door, frowning. “I should buy her a new car…,” he added.

“That’s illegal, Ilya.”

“I will find a way, Shane. I’m Russian.”

“Your Canadian passport says otherwise.” 

Ilya huffed and dismissed Shane’s comment with an especially Slavic hand gesture. “Stupid Canadian surrogacy laws…,” he muttered.

“Great. I’ll tell our kids you said that when they ask me why Papa's in prison.” 

Ilya flashed a crooked smile. “Oooh, Canadian prison! So scary!”

Shane groaned. “Wait here. I’m going to see what this is about.” 

Before Ilya could protest, Shane abruptly exited the car and started speedwalking toward the house. Ilya hurriedly unbuckled Kaya from the car seat and lifted her to his chest before hustling after him. He caught up to Shane as he was punching the door code, but the door swung open, revealing a bright-eyed older woman with a huge smile on her face. 

“Honey! There you are! Come in, come in, come in!” she said, beckoning them to follow her to the living room. 

“Mom, what are you doing here?” 

“SURPRISE!” 

The noise almost knocked Shane over. Ilya instinctively covered Kaya’s head and pulled her close. 

“Oh God…” Shane whispered.

“Oh my God!” Ilya gasped, eyes brightening.

It took them a moment to register what was happening, but from a glance around the room, it looked like everyone they knew and loved who lived within driving distance–the entire Centaurs roster, retired teammates, the coaching staff, the Pike family, JJ, Ryan and Fabian, their surrogate, Amy, and even Rose Landry (who had obviously flown in)–had all descended on their house. 

Surrounding the guests, the living room was decorated with colorful streamers and helium balloons. Three buffet tables, weighed down with appetizers and drinks, and a tiered cake stand bearing hundreds of cupcakes, cookies, and brownies, were staged around the room. Shane squinted at a lettered banner draped over the sliding door that read, “WELCOME BABIES HOLLANDER ROZANOV.”

“Mom, this is…. Wow…, this is too much…”

“Yuna, this is amazing!” Ilya, smiling with tears already wetting his eyes, was bouncing Kaya on his hip. “Look at all your friends, Kayushka!” he whispered in her ear.

Yuna herself was bouncing excitedly. “We couldn’t decide what to call it, but we wanted to celebrate and formally welcome two new babies to the family. Our first baby,” she gestured at Kaya, “and our first newborn!” she said, gesturing towards Amy with her round belly. “Before I let these boys mingle,” she continued, “I just want to say thank you to each and every one of you for supporting them and coming here to celebrate today. This hasn’t been an easy journey…” Yuna’s eyes were slowly welling, “but I’m so proud of….” 

Whatever else she had planned to say was no match for the rising emotions in her chest. David put a supportive arm around her shoulders as she sniffed and dabbed an errant tear on her cheek.

“Do you want me to…?” David asked.

“No, I’ve got this,” Yuna cleared her throat. “Anyways, what we really want to say is…, well…,” she trailed off again, opting for a simple, “Cheers to the new dads!” A chorus of cheers echoed around the room. 

Yuna finished dabbing her cheeks and turned to Shane, who was still standing awkwardly in the entry. His thumbs were anchored in his pockets and his eyes were glued to the floor. 

“Honey, I’m sorry to spring this on you,” she said, offering the emptiest of apologies, “but I knew you’d say no if we’d asked you to have a party. And you won’t have to put up with us long. The team bus is picking everyone up at six, and we’ll have everything cleaned up by six thirty,” she said firmly, as if it might soothe some of his discomfort. It was minimally successful. She turned to Ilya. “Anya is hanging out at our house right now, Sweetie. We’ll drop her off tomorrow.”

Shane looked around the room, which hadn’t held so many people since his and Ilya’s wedding, and now they were here together again to celebrate them and their growing family…. Between the noise, the smells, the reason for the occasion, the prospect of Ilya’s retirement, let alone a new baby on the horizon, Shane was quickly getting overwhelmed. 

“Here, take Kayushka,” Ilya said, handing her over. It was the least he could do, he thought. Over the time that they’d had Kaya, he’d noticed that when Shane held her–a heaping armful of warmth and comfort–he seemed to be able to redirect his nerves when his surroundings were overstimulating. And, as much as Ilya wanted to show her off himself, at least he’d be able to gaze at his beautiful husband carrying their beautiful baby as a consolation. The day when they would each have a baby to hold couldn’t come soon enough. 

“Thanks,” Shane said, adjusting his grip on Kaya’s chubby thigh. She was already missing a shoe, and Shane was about to excuse himself to go find it, but before he could, he was intercepted by Rose Landry.

“Rose! I can’t believe you’re here. It’s so good to see you,” he managed. 

“Oh Shane, nothing could keep me away!” she said, giving Shane and Kaya a combined hug. “I’ve been desperate to meet Kaya! She’s so adorable.” 

“It really hasn’t been that long. She was ten months old when we adopted her. So now, she’s, uh, sixteen months.”

“Can I hold her?”

“Uh, sure.” And just like that, he lost his baby armor to Rose’s outstretched arms. 

Shane looked up to see Ilya across the room, staring daggers at the back of Rose’s head. It’s fine! Shane mouthed at him, but he was also trying to convince himself.

“She’s so sweet, Shane!” Rose cooed as she worked on untangling Kaya’s fingers from her hair.

“Are you staying in town long?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’m heading to Vancouver tomorrow for a new project.”

“Oh, no more acting hiatus? Will you be shapeshifting or kidnapped this time?” Shane asked.

“Actually, neither! I’ll be directing.”

Meanwhile, Ilya was talking to Amy, Wyatt, and Wyatt’s wife Lisa. Given Canada’s strict laws surrounding reimbursement for surrogacy, it could have taken them years to find someone willing to carry their child, but Lisa knew Amy, a former nurse-turned-ceramicist, married with two kids of her own, who had once mentioned being interested in the idea. Wyatt and Lisa had introduced her to Shane and Ilya as soon as they caught wind of their plans. The three of them had hit it off right away, and Amy was even willing to schedule the embryo transfer in the fall to allow them to finish their season before the baby arrived. 

Shane and Ilya admired Amy for being a ‘fucking badass,’ (Shane’s words), and both of them had privately admitted their disappointment that their baby would share none of her genetic material. Ilya still held out hope that growing in her uterus would be enough to imbue their child with a fraction of Amy’s sense of humor and her generous heart, and Shane was kind enough not to dispel this belief, seeing as he secretly hoped for that, too. 

Shane and Ilya eventually reconvened when they both made their way over to the Pikes, who had stopped by on their way to Muskoka. 

“Hayden, Jackie, thank you guys so much for coming. It’s great to see you.” Shane tried to ignore the mental tally of how many times he’d used those lines thus far.

“Dude, I know how the well works. It’s not my first time at the cottage!” Hayden said, clapping Shane on the back. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure!” 

“Of course, man! And, Ilya, congrats on your retirement. Won’t miss you on the ice, that’s for sure.” 

“You won’t miss losing, is what you mean?” Ilya chirped back. Hayden laughed, and Ilya turned his attention toward Ruby and Jade, who had grown into gossipy teenagers, and he caught up on the news of their school friends.

By the time Shane and Ilya had talked to everyone, they had issued at least a dozen more “thankyouforcomings” and “sogoodtoseeyous,” and Kaya, who had been passed around to all of her honorary Centaur uncles, finally made her way back to Shane’s arms. It was almost time for their guests to leave, but before the festivities could officially wind down, they were interrupted by Coach Wiebe clinking his glass.

“If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment…” he began, capturing the ears of everyone in the room with his gentle, yet commanding, voice. “Ilya, Shane, you’ve both given so much to the team over the past few years, and thanks to you, and Kaya,” he winked, “this team has truly become a family. We wanted to express our love and gratitude for you both somehow, and, I know Yuna said no gifts, but Harris came up with the idea, and we really couldn’t help ourselves... Harris, would you like to do the honors?” 

On his cue, Harris retrieved a Centaurs gift bag that had been stashed away in a corner. He held it with both hands as he ceremoniously handed the gift bag to Ilya. Shane nodded at him to open it.

Inside was a large, hardcovered book with a black and red cover. Ilya opened it to the first page, which read, ‘With love from the Centaurs Family, 2026-2027.’ There was a photo of Ilya and Shane in their Centaurs uniforms, smiling at the camera and holding Kaya between them. Kaya looked so small, Shane thought. It must have been soon after they got her, when they were just starting to figure out how to balance playing hockey with parenting. 

Those early days, bringing Kaya along to road games with Ilya and Shane alternating between the Centaurs’ starting line and sitting in the stands caring for her, arose from the most misguided decision they’d ever made–adopting a baby and somehow believing that they’d be able to keep playing at the same intensity while magically cobbling together childcare. 

Their decision had led to many sleepless nights, waking up to baby cries in identical hotel rooms across countless random cities, diaper changes on the team bus and on the chartered plane, spilled yogurt pouches, and dropped stuffed animals in hotel lobbies, never to be retrieved. But, looking at this book, Shane marveled at how their naivete and brashness also gave them so many beautiful memories.

As Ilya turned the pages, Shane was transported to the moments captured in each photo, some of them he’d never seen before. 

On one page was a picture of Ilya holding the baby carrier and Shane carrying a diaper bag through the airport. Their free hands intertwined as they lagged behind the rest of the team…

There were pictures of each of them sitting in the stands and holding Kaya, who wore noise canceling headphones that Ilya had special-ordered to match the Centaurs' team colors…

There was a selfie of Ilya in his signature look–a backwards baseball cap, sunglasses, and bulky headphones–with Kaya dressed to match ….

Ilya flipped through a few more pages to pictures of Shane nervously watching Ilya skate around the ice while wearing Kaya in a backpack…Shane holding Kaya up to meet the Zamboni driver, and another of him in the Zamboni driver’s seat with Kaya’s tiny hands on the steering wheel…The three of them sleeping on the team bus, Kaya strapped to Shane’s chest and Ilya’s head resting on his shoulder.

Then, there was a sudden demarcation in the pictures. It must have been in February, when they had finally admitted to themselves that bringing Kaya along to away games was unsustainable without additional support, and Yuna and David started coming along too. 

There was a photo of Yuna standing in the aisle of the airplane, smiling at Kaya who was perched on Shane’s lap… Yuna and David feeding Kaya at the hotel breakfast buffet… Yuna and David holding Kaya while they cheered the Centaurs on from the stands…

There were several photos of Amy, too, including a screenshot from the time Amy Facetimed them with a positive pregnancy test and a recent selfie of Ilya, Shane and Kaya, posing next to Amy in the hospital parking lot after an ultrasound.

Before he got to the end, Ilya stopped and closed the book. Even through his own blurry vision, Shane could see a tear running down Ilya’s face. “This is beautiful, Harris. Thank you,” Ilya said, pulling Harris in for a hug. 

“We crowdsourced from the whole team,” Harris said. “I couldn’t fit all the pictures in, so I’ll send you the cloud drive link with the rest.” He gathered Shane and Kaya up for a hug too. Shane couldn’t muster any words that would even come close to what he was feeling right now. But it was time for the team bus to pick everyone up. They filed out and boarded the bus idling outside.

Yuna, David, Harris, and Troy stayed a few extra minutes to finish cleaning up the living room, and packing up the food that wouldn’t fit in the fridge. Ilya requested that they leave the decorations, and, on their way out, Ilya gave Yuna an extra long hug. 

Shane was in the kitchen, trying to collect himself, when he overheard his dad apologize to Ilya for dragging him through his boring bird pictures (‘had to make sure you wouldn’t go home first! I panicked!’, to which Ilya replied, 'no worries, David. Let me know when you go next time. I’d love to join...'). 

Shane shook his head. Now he was really losing it, he thought. He decided to take Kaya upstairs for a diaper change.

* * *

Once everyone had left, Shane was sitting at the kitchen island between Kaya, perched in her highchair, and Ilya who was still perusing the photo album. 

“That was nice of your mom to throw us a party,” Ilya said. 

Instead of responding, Shane broke apart a leftover meatball to release the steam before adding it to Kaya’s silicone plate. He dabbed at Kaya’s mouth with a napkin between her bites, still feeling dazed from all the activity. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

Shane checked his phone, but the alarm system was still disabled. “Maybe someone forgot something. Can you get it?”

“Sure.”

While Ilya answered the door, Shane’s phone dinged with a text notification. 

Mom: I set up the pack ‘n’ play in the guestroom!

Confused, Shane was about to reply with a question mark when Ilya returned bearing a squirmy toddler. “Look, Shane, I found another baby!” 

“Syurpriz!”

And there was Svetlana, one hand holding a diaper bag and her other raised with elegant panache. Her caramel curls were pulled back, with a few tendrils framing her face, accentuating her enormous eyes. She looked flawless in a brown jersey dress and seemed way too put together for a woman who had just gotten off a plane with a toddler, but that was part of her mystery.

“I am so sorry we missed the party!" she trilled. "Our flight got re-routed through Chicago. It was terrible. Please forgive me.” At least that’s what Shane thought she said. His Russian listening practice was pretty much limited to Ilya, which now largely consisted of his babytalk to Kaya. Still, the fact that he could barely comprehend these basic phrases clued him in that his mental faculties had gone to shit. 

“You did not miss anything, Sveta. You are the party,” Ilya said. “How was Maximka on the plane?”

“Unimpressed, as usual,” she replied. “Did Kaya lose a shoe? I found this one in the driveway,” She said, holding it up.

“Sveta, Maximka, it’s good to see you! Are you hungry?” Shane said. At least it was “goodtoseeyou” in Russian this time and punctuated by kisses on their cheeks. He accepted the shoe and put it in his pocket, as Kaya had since lost the other one. 

Shane fetched another high chair, and the five of them gathered around the kitchen island and caught up on life updates while eating their fill of leftovers. They asked about her partner, Maxim’s father, who was the team doctor for the Raiders. They had recently moved to a new house in the Boston suburbs, but he was currently traveling with the team as they continued their playoff bid. Ilya told her about how they met their surrogate and about Kaya’s new daycare.

When they finished eating, Ilya broke out a bottle of vodka, and they migrated over to the living room. Shane sat on the floor with Kaya and Maxim playing side by side. 

“They could be cousins,” Ilya said, watching them fondly. 

“Let them be cousins!” Svetlana agreed. “Maximka doesn’t have any family stateside either.” 

“It’s decided then,” Ilya said, raising his vodka glass. “To cousins!”

“Oh, before I forget, let me go get the thing I brought for you,” Svetlana said, abruptly switching to English. Unlike Ilya, she did not speak English with a Russian accent. Shane was always surprised by this, and his ears perked up at the familiar sounds. 

“Oh, no, Sveta, my mom said no gifts,” Shane said. 

“It’s not a gift, I’m just returning something.” She went to her bag and pulled out a flat parcel wrapped in brown paper. 

“Ilyusha, this is for you. I thought I lost it until we moved to our new house and I was going through all my stuff. I’m sorry I didn’t give this to you earlier, but I thought now would be a good time for you to have it, anyway.”

Ilya cautiously took the object and began to unwrap it. “Oh…,” he gasped, “Sveta, how…” but his words caught in his throat. 

“I went back to your apartment after your father’s funeral. I know you said there wasn’t anything you wanted, but I just had to check. You were in such a bad state, you weren’t thinking clearly.”

Shane could now see what Ilya was holding. A softcover book with an illustrated cover, titled «Дядя Фёдор, пёс и кот», Uncle Fedya, His Dog and His Cat. His eyes widened. He didn’t know the book, but Ilya’s expression when his eyes landed on the cover clearly conveyed some significance. He put a steadying hand on Ilya’s shoulder as he opened it to the first page. 

There, someone had scrawled something in pen, but Shane couldn’t read the cursive Cyrillic script. “What does it say?”

Ilya was speechless, so Svetlana translated. “‘For my beloved son. May you have many happy adventures just like Uncle Fedya.’” It was dated June 15, 1997.

Shane’s sight blurred, and his nose was suddenly running, and he could feel Ilya shaking beneath his fingertips. Shane couldn’t see his face from this angle, but it was clear that he was crying too. 

“And there's a photo in there,” Svetlana said, in a gentler tone than usual. “I wasn’t sure if you had a copy of it.” She guided him toward a middle page in the book where she had tucked in an envelope. Ilya’s hands trembled as he opened it. 

The picture was a candid, taken on a 90’s era film camera and printed on cheap photo paper that was yellowing at the edges. It showed Irina with Ilya, probably around ten years old, playing a boardgame in a cozy living room, a weak winter sunbeam streaming through the curtains. 

Shane was amazed at how familiar the photo seemed, even though he’d never seen it before. The only pictures they had of Irina were of her and Ilya standing stiffly side-by-side next to a hockey rink, Ilya wearing a child’s hockey uniform. 

The fact was though, he had seen this Irina before, in the gleam in Ilya’s eyes as he devised boardgame strategies while playing with Shane’s parents, and in the smug smile he wore after winning a challenge…. Shane could see clearly that both of these expressions, two of his favorites, were from his mother.

By now, tears were flowing down Ilya’s face, but he managed to say, “I did not have this one. I haven’t seen this in twenty years. I think this was at Christmas.”

Svetlana hugged him and wiped away his tears, but Shane knew what would comfort Ilya the most. He scooped up Kaya (who looked about ready to teeter away) and handed her to him. Ilya squeezed her tightly and buried his nose in her hair. Settling her on his lap, he planted a wet kiss on her head as he rocked back and forth. 

“Thank you, Sveta. Thank you so much,” he said, reverting back to Russian.

* * * 

After putting the kids to bed, the three adults gathered back in the living room. Ilya refilled the vodka glasses. Svetlana perched on a chair across from Shane and Ilya on the couch.

“Do you have a name for the new baby yet?” Svetlana asked.

“Yes. June,” Ilya said. Shane gave him a sideways glance. They hadn’t shared the name with anyone yet. 

“June?” Svetlana asked, surprised. “Not a Russian name?”

“It was Ilya’s idea,” Shane said defensively.

“Maybe we’ll give her a Russian middle name,” Ilya shrugged. 

“We talked about ‘Irina’…,” Shane added, but Ilya shook his head. 

“Hm, how about ‘Ilyinichna’?” Svetlana suggested. Ilya rolled his eyes. "Fine. Just use 'Ilya,' then."

“That’s perfect,” Shane said immediately. Maybe Svetlana was being facetious. Shane wasn’t sure, but he felt the need to put his foot down before the suggestions went further astray. Whatever had happened, Svetlana smiled and accepted it as a final answer.

“June Ilya…,” She said, sounding it out. “It’s a cute name. And that way she’ll be named after both of you!” she said, cackling.

“What?” Shane asked, while Ilya smirked at her observation.

“Oh that’s right. It wasn’t June, it was Jane.” Svetlana said, correcting herself. “Still, it’s close enough…” Shane blushed. He’d forgotten that Svetlana had deciphered his codename, and now he was embarrassed. Maybe there was still time to change Ilya’s mind on the name…. He couldn’t tell if they were overthinking it or underthinking it, seeing as this was their first time naming a baby. 

Ilya and Svetlana kept chatting, and once again they fell back into Russian. Shane didn’t contribute much. He put his feet up to recline on the sofa, and before long, lulled by their voices making soft Russian sounds, he drifted off to sleep. 

When he awoke some time later, he was alone and disoriented. He looked at his phone to find that it was almost two a.m., and the kitchen light was still on. He compelled his tired body off the couch and made his way over to switch it off. 

The Centaurs photo album was still on the counter open to a page he hadn’t yet seen. On the left was a picture of the Jumbotron screen showing Yuna holding Kaya on her lap. She had the bewildered expression of someone not yet aware that their face was being broadcast to nearly twenty thousand fans. Her mouth was slightly open, and her hair was askew, but she looked beautiful, and she was clutching Kaya’s hands as though they were dancing in time to the beat of a song. 

On the right, there was a candid of Ilya in a Centaurs warm-up jacket holding Kaya and smiling in the direction of whoever was taking the picture. Shane looked closer. He wasn’t sure where the picture was from. It could have been in the arena parking lot or an airport in some random city, but the sky was blue and there was a hint of green on the tree branches behind him. Kaya’s hand was gripping something around Ilya’s neck, which Shane quickly realized was Ilya’s mother’s gold cross necklace. 

Shane’s throat tightened at the contrast between the two pictures. Yuna, a constant presence in their lives, ready to support them and help care for their child, and already teaching Kaya about Shane’s family, their lineage, their story. But Irina would never get to meet Kaya, and Ilya would never get to see his mother hold his children or hear her speak to them in Russian. Shane shuddered, ashamed that he had felt ungrateful to his mom for even a moment, when Ilya would never be afforded the same privilege. 

He went back to the living room where Irina’s picture and Ilya’s book were sitting on the coffee table. He carefully tucked the picture back into the envelope and took both items back to the kitchen, leaving them in a neat stack with the photo album. He didn’t feel like he could adequately express what he felt for Irina, for his mom, for everything, so he settled on bowing his head in a moment of reverence. Then he tiptoed upstairs. 

* * *

When Shane finally climbed into bed, Ilya was already sprawled on his side, arm tucked under the pillow, and curls spread in a poufy halo around his head. Shane turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. 

Ilya’s groggy voice interrupted the quiet. “What were you thinking about earlier?”

“Hm?” The whole day had been a blur. What hadn’t crossed Shane’s mind?

“At the restaurant,” Ilya prompted.

He thought for a second trying to remember. “Oh. It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking about… well…,” Shane sighed before he continued, “I’m scared of retiring…,” he admitted. Ilya didn’t respond, but suddenly more words were tumbling out of Shane’s mouth, filling the air between them. “And I’m feeling shitty about it. I mean, shouldn’t I want to spend time with our family? And, you know I do, but… I just don’t who I am without hockey. And of course I’m fucking worried about getting hurt again, and I hate the idea of playing without you, and I know people are judging me for not retiring. Even my parents are judging me. And, like, I know I’m old, but I’m still really fucking good, you know?”

“Hm, is that all?” 

“Oh my God. You asked!” Shane said, smacking Ilya on the chest. “Aren’t you scared? About what’s next, I mean?”

“Scared of what? Watching birds with your dad?”

“You hate birds, Ilya.”

“I don’t hate birds, Shane,” he said. In the darkness, Shane could just make out Ilya pinching the loon tattoo on his shoulder. “When you are ready to retire,” Ilya continued, “it won’t feel so scary. And then you’ll know it’s the right time.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. We’ll still be here. Me and Kaya and June. And we’ll still come cheer for you at your games. Even when you have a hockey stick in one hand and a cane in the other.” 

Shane huffed. “Jeez, I hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“Come here.” Ilya rolled onto his back, and Shane wriggled over to nestle his head on Ilya’s bare chest. They were quiet for a while as Ilya ran his fingers through Shane’s hair. 

“Is what Svetlana said true? Did you suggest the name ‘June’ because it sounds like ‘Jane’?” Shane asked.

“No.”

“Then is it because it’s her birthday month?”

“No.”

“Then why–?”

“I just like the name.”

“Okay. That’s a good reason, I guess,” Shane said.

It was. And it was half-true, anyways. But Ilya had also chosen it to honor the moment when he stopped denying his love for Shane, the moment he’d fully committed to pursuing a future with him, the moment when he risked smashing his own heart into irreparable pieces if Shane didn’t want the same thing…. 

That moment, it turned out, happened to be when Scott Hunter kissed his boyfriend on live TV after winning the MLH cup. Ilya figured he’d confess his reasoning eventually, but he at least planned to wait until after she was born so Shane wouldn’t have a chance to persuade him otherwise. Also because Shane would probably freak out if he found out their kid was named after the man he believed to be Ilya's perennial, unrequited crush. 

But then, the next thing he knew, and maybe it was just because the vodka hadn’t completely left his system, he felt the real reason clawing its way from his lips.

“I like ‘June’,” Ilya said, “because it reminds me of when there was no going back for me. From this.”

Shane craned his neck to look up at him, taken aback at this unexpected confession. He thought for a moment. “We got married in July, you idiot.”

“No. Before that.”

“We went to the cottage in July, too. That first time, anyway…”

“No, before…”

Shane’s eyes widened. “Wait! Are we naming her ‘June’ after Scott fucking Hunter?”

“Well, it was either going to be ‘June’ or ‘Scott Hunter’.”

“We are not naming our daughter Scott Hunter!”

“This is our daughter, Kaya,” Ilya said with mock formality, gesturing in the air, “And this is our other daughter, Scott Hunter…” 

Shane snorted a laugh, before adding: “Scott Hunter Ilya Hollander!” 

“Do not give me any ideas, Shane, or I will write it on the birth certificate.” 

“No fucking way,” Shane said, “We can name her June, but we’re never telling Scott why.” 

“Of course not,” Ilya agreed. “His head would explode!”

“Kip would never forgive us!” They both shook with laughter, unable to utter any other ideas for a name. Once again, tears escaped Shane’s eyes. Ilya lifted his head to kiss him. 

“I’m going to run out of tears,” Shane said, wiping his face. “I’m not going to be able to cry for another decade.”

“You will cry when June is born.”

“I don’t know, I might have to bring eyedrops for the pictures or something,” he said, but he was still sniffling. 

“My mother used to say that sad tears and happy tears come from different parts of your eyes, and it is impossible to run out of happy tears.”

“That’s really sweet, Ilya.” He swallowed before saying, “I’m sorry she wasn’t here today.”

“Me too. She would have loved this. But I think I’ve come to understand that my mother and this could never exist in the same world. As much as I miss her, I’m very grateful that I have this.” He pulled Shane’s hand up to kiss it. “This is my adventure.” 

“Mine too,” Shane said. “June Ilya Hollander Rozanov…. It’s a good name. And June is pride month, so it’s super gay.” 

“See? She is named after you!”

“Oh, fuck off!” 

Ilya was laughing again and Shane couldn’t help himself. He held Ilya tightly, as he realized that finally, finally, it felt like his anxieties–about retiring, about his parents, about the baby, about a fucking name–had all been eased. He turned his head to kiss Ilya’s chest, then promptly wiped away the smear of snot it left behind. “Gross…,” he muttered.

Ilya let out the last of his laughs and then exhaled in a deep sigh. “Are you going to let me sleep now? I am tired from playing one million hockey games.” 

“I’m not stopping you. And it’s not a million… Do you know how many? Like, the exact number?”

“No.”

“Want me to look it up?”

“No.”

“Fine. I bet Svetlana knows. I’m going to ask her tomorrow.”

“Okay. You do that, Shane.”