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When Yuna calls to tell him she convinced Ilya to spend a few days recovering at their place, David was not shocked.
He was so not shocked that he’d actually already changed the sheets in the guest bedroom and had a pot of miso soup simmering on the stove in the event they had a last-minute guest.
He was, however, not quite sure what to do with Yuna’s whispered, “I think Ilya’s Jane is actually our Shane.”
That was all she said before she hung up, telling David she loved him and she’d let him know when she and Ilya were on the road.
~
Despite his towering size, Yuna maneuvered a vaguely lucid Ilya Rozanov through the Hollanders’ front door with the practiced ease of a hockey mom. David stepped in with the assist, clearing their path to the couch before doubling back to the kitchen to plate dinner. Before he retreated, he noticed what Yuna was talking about.
Ilya was wearing a 2005 Ottawa Jr. Centaurs shirt.
Soft with age and wear, it was the perfect shirt to bring someone in the hospital. It also happened to be from the same year Shane was a volunteer coach for the TimBits team.
Maybe Ilya thrifted it, David reasoned. Or maybe the Cens cleaned out an old storage closet and found old merchandise to give to current players. There were plenty of reasonable explanations. Plenty of ways this could be pure coincidence.
But Yuna Hollander didn’t believe in coincidences. And decades of being married to Yuna Hollander had trained David to understand that his wife was rarely wrong.
He was fairly positive Shane wasn’t capable of this level of deceit. He’d been a good kid, so focused on hockey that the only things he lied about were directly tied to hockey. David remembered a night when Shane was 11 and he’d promised he was going to bed. He shuffled out of the room, refusing to make eye contact, as shifty as could be. Yuna had turned to David with a smirk on her face. “So how long should we let him think we aren’t aware he’s still watching MHL film breakdowns?”
They’d settled on an hour.
Shane’s “Golden Boy” persona wasn’t a carefully curated mask, rather, it was Yuna emphasizing the personality that he’d always had. So a secret lover felt extremely out of character. And yet, here they were, with Ilya Rozanov napping on their couch wearing what was very likely Shane’s shirt and his head on Yuna’s lap, looking to all the world like their long-lost son.
~
David had to admit, in the weeks after Ilya’s accident and subsequent hospitalization, he seemed to be curious about the Hollanders. More curious than the average charity partner might be.
Ilya latched onto Yuna quickly, inhaling her various stories about Shane’s childhood like a man who’d been marooned on a deserted island and ran out of water days ago. He always asked multiple follow up questions, like, “And did Shane ever eat his candy, or just work toward perfecting how he organized it?” or “How long did it take Shane to recover from such crushing disappointment? Of getting A-minus in gym?”
Yuna viewed this as proof. Evidence, if you will. She added it to her growing list of reasons why she was positive she, along with crazed teenage girls on the internet, was right about the “Hollanov” conspiracies.
“His mother passed when he was young, his father was— at best— not present and his brother seems like a piece of work. Maybe he just… likes hearing about normal, every day life?” David handed Yuna a rinsed dish, ready to be loaded into the dishwasher. Yuna scoffed as she deposited the plate on the lower rack.
“Or he’s trying to learn as much about his boyfriend’s childhood as he can. Or he’s trying to bond with his boyfriend’s parents.”
“Or he’s entertaining the crazy woman who busted into his hospital room and has been holding him hostage ever since?” David fixed Yuna with a pointed look, which Yuna pointedly ignored.
In true Yuna fashion, her fact-finding quest wasn’t just about irrefutable evidence, it was also about clearing the boys’ names of any wrongdoing.
“Once they’re out as a couple, there will be assholes who want to say they fixed their games. Obviously, we know this is crazy, but we’ll need to be ready to go toe-to-toe with some powerful assholes in the league.”
David hummed noncommittally, wondering what would happen if the public ever got their hands on this document. He leaned over to plant a soft kiss on Yuna’s forehead. Maybe Yuna had become completely unmoored from reality, but David was positive he’d never been more in love with her than he was right now. How could he not be? She was creating an excel spreadsheet with every possible way the public (but more importantly, the league), would potentially accuse Ilya and Shane of conspiring with each other, and she was diligently disproving each theory, line by line. Even if this was sunk time, David would never not be in awe of how fiercely Yuna loved those around her.
~
David rarely bothered trying to disprove Yuna’s theories. There wasn’t any point; she never strayed from anything that wasn’t concrete.
When Yuna coaxed Ilya into describing what Jane looked like while they were eating an absolutely insane amount of sushi following a devastatingly bad showing by the Centaurs, everything Ilya said really could have been about Shane instead of a nice, Canadian girl named Jane.
“Well, I know I’ve told you she has best freckles in the West, yes? All over her nose. Her hair is short and dark, very fun to run hands through. She is tall, very athletic— and so competitive, too. You think I am bad? Nyet, you have seen nothing.”
It’s worth noting, Ilya did not provide a photo of Jane. Of course, Yuna pointed this out the moment Ilya was out of earshot.
“Well, maybe they don’t take photos together,” David suggested.
Yuna looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head.
“David. That boy is incredibly active on Instagram. He also loves taking photos— have you noticed he’s started insisting he has to get a photo before we eat? I think someone on the Centaurs digital team taught him the phrase ‘phone eats first’ and he’s really taken it to heart. He’s also shown us at least a few hundred dog pictures in the past month. I swear, every dog he sees, he takes a photo of. There is literally no way he doesn’t have an album dedicated to photos of ‘Jane.’”
As usual, Yuna had fair points.
That still didn’t mean Shane was Jane.
Jane and Shane also shared similar struggles. One rainy Sunday afternoon, Ilya kept checking his phone has he and David chipped away at a puzzle depicting various Monet paintings.
“Am sorry, my Jane… her coworkers have not been the best lately. She is in leadership position, but it is hard to lead people who refuse to follow just because you are… you.”
After a solid month of bearing witness to Yuna’s Reddit deep-dives and pointed questions, he easily connected the dots on his own.
Coworkers = Voyagers
Leadership position = captain
“Because you are you” = being gay
Yuna nodded sagely when David filled her in that evening. David wasn’t sure if he should be proud of his detective skills or horrified that he was feeding into this speculation about his son’s love life.
The lowest hanging fruit was location. Very conveniently, Jane lived in Montreal. Her “long nights,” when mentioned, always lined up with a Voyagers game.
“She lives in Montreal and he describes her meals as bird food. Bird food, David! I heard Ilya call Shane’s salad bird food at the Foundation dinner last summer.”
David looked over his glasses at his wife. “Yuna, that’s an incredibly common phrase. I’m sure Ilya thinks plenty of people who happen to live in Montreal eat bird food.”
“His complaint specifically was ‘she insists on eating her bird food even when she has long days at work’ on the same day the Voyagers played the Admirals.”
David reached out, grabbing Yuna’s hand to squeeze it.
“You know I love you, right?”
Yuna glowered at him. “I’d prefer if you admitted I’m right, but I guess I’ll accept your love instead,” she said as she leaned in for a kiss.
~
To close out the regular season, the Voyagers had an almost two-week long road trip, bookended by sponsorship obligations for Shane that added to his time away. The Centaurs had an inverse slate, staring down a long stretch of home games.
The Hollanders had fallen into an easy routine with Ilya, tracking his schedule and inviting him over on days off. With two weeks of home games, they should’ve been good for a few dinners. Maybe he’d even pop by after an afternoon game with a bottle of wine for Yuna and a new puzzle to work on with David.
Instead, their texts were left unanswered.
Ilya, David is making lasagna! We’ll send you home with leftovers, feel free to pop by whenever.
Not the outcome you wanted, but you played great! Takes time to rebuild, the team is looking better each game.
Ordering sushi today— want your usual?
Kid, this puzzle won’t solve itself and Yuna refuses to help! Do you have plans on Sunday afternoon?
Trying my hand at making pelmeni; will you be the official taste tester?
All marked delivered. All marked read. No quips, no reactions, no nothing.
~
“Have you guys talked to Ilya lately?”
Yuna raised her eyebrows, glancing at David, before returning her attention to her phone.
“No, hon, I think he’s been busy this home stretch.”
“If I give you his gate code, will you go check on him? I haven’t heard from him either, texted him a few times… about that upcoming Irina Foundation event…” Shane trailed off, looking away from the screen and off into the distance. His free hand kept running through his hair, an old, anxious habit he’d never quite shook.
“Is there… reason to be that concerned?” Yuna glanced at David again.
Shane bit his lip as he weighed his response. “You know a little about his mom from the Foundation, at least, the overview. Ilya works hard to hide it but, but he struggles with some of the same things his mom struggled with.” Shane paused, collecting his thoughts. “He’s really good at carrying on until he simply can’t.”
Shane’s words hung heavy in the air.
Same things Irina struggled with. Irina, who as far as David could tell, loved her children more than words could express. Irina, who was still in so much pain she left them behind. David would never, could never, judge Ilya’s mom for her pain, but knowing she chose to leave Ilya alone and unprotected with his father spoke volumes to the depth of her sadness.
“You have Ilya’s gate code?” David hadn’t meant to question the statement, but it just slipped out.
Shane flushed slightly, averting his eyes. “Yeah, last time I was in town I needed to pick up some donations for the Foundation when Ilya wasn’t around. I can also tell you where the spare key is.”
It sounded plausible enough to David, if he chose to suspend his disbelief; Yuna didn’t look convinced. But she didn’t make it this far in her career without knowing when to pick her battles, so Yuna accepted Shane’s answer at face value.
Ignoring the pit in his stomach, David volunteered to drive over to Ilya’s.
~
Hi, Ilya. Yuna and I haven’t heard from you in a bit and just want to make sure you’re doing alright. I’m at your front door; Shane gave me your gate code.
If you don’t answer the door in the next five minutes, Shane told me where your spare key is hidden. I don’t want to invade your privacy, but we’re concerned about you.
David looked at the blue bubble as it delivered. He’d never been to Ilya’s place before, but the eerie silence around him felt heavy in a way he didn’t imagine was normal for any space Ilya occupied.
I have leftover pelmeni from last night and I’m still looking for an official taste tester 😃
Four minutes into waiting, the door opened just enough for David to see Ilya’s messy curls and the left side of his face.
“I am alive. You can go. Thank you for checking.”
As Ilya went to close the door, David panicked. He’d promised Yuna and Shane he’d make meaningful contact, and he was certain this didn’t count as anything close to meaningful. Acting on instinct, he shoved his foot in the door.
“But I brought pelmeni! For lunch!” David tried to make sure his tone was light and chipper as he used his foot to lever the door open a bit more. “Yuna enjoyed them last night, but you’re the expert here.”
Ilya looked deeply unimpressed, dark circles under his normally sparkling eyes casting deep shadows across his face.
“Is 4 p.m. Not lunchtime.”
Ilya sounded exhausted. Like he had been over the conversation before he even opened the door. Like whatever spark he usually had in his chest had been doused by a bucket of water.
David shrugged. “So we’ll have pelmeni for linner. How about you let me in, son?”
“I have not heard of this… linner?” Ilya asked as he slowly pulled the door open and stepped to the side. David hustled in before the larger man could change his mind, kicking off his shoes and acting right at home.
“It’s a made-up word Yuna and I used to use with Shane when he was younger,” David chuckled at the memory as he followed Ilya further into the house. “You know how he can be, very tied to rules and routines. Eating at non-traditional times because of practices and games was hard for him. He didn’t like the lack of label. So, we made up names. ‘Linner’ for between lunch and dinner. ‘Snunch’ for something more than a snack but less than lunch.”
“Ah, not fair. You use nonsense word and promise of pelmeni to con your way into my home.” Ilya’s words lacked any heat, but they also lacked humor.
David hated it.
Turning his energy toward the pelmeni in his hands, David set about warming “linner” for Ilya. He moved around the kitchen as he imagined Yuna would: like it was his own, and as if he wasn’t becoming more concerned about Ilya’s mental state by the second.
For two minutes, the microwave was the only sound in the kitchen other than David’s thundering heart. Rather unceremoniously, he plopped the full plate in front of Ilya and decided to cut to the chase.
“What’s weighing on your mind, kid?”
Ilya’s fork paused midair. David offered him the illusion of privacy, turning his back to put his own plate in the microwave.
“Ah, is nothing. Jane and I… had a disagreement.”
“Want to tell me about it anyway?” David did his best to keep his tone light, as if to say see? It’s no big deal, you can talk to me about the fight that you got into with your partner who might actually be my son!
Ilya shrugged, eyes glued to his plate.
“Jane, she sees future in way… I cannot.”
David nodded, as if he understood. (He did not).
“She sees holding hands and dinner with her parents and Christmas traditions…” Ilya trailed off, pushing his food around his plate.
David swallowed. “And you don’t see a future with… Jane?”
Ilya considered his question. “Of course I see future with Jane. She is perfect. Everything I dream of. But I cannot see future where I am good enough. Cannot see future where her parents think I am… right… for their Jane.”
David didn’t know it was possible to physically feel his heart shatter until this very moment.
“Why wouldn’t you be right for Jane?”
Ilya shrugged, eyes trained on his plate. “My mother… she was so smart and funny and beautiful. She had, what is the phrase? Smile that lit room? Da, she had that.”
Ilya paused, and David could feel the “but” lingering between them, the air heavy with grief.
“But… she was so sad. The kind of sad that makes you… stay in bed for days. That makes it… difficult to cook and clean and leave house.”
“The kind of sad that makes it hard to respond to texts?” David interjected, a soft, sad smile curving on his lips. “Or hard to ask for help?”
Ilya nodded. “Da. That kind of sad. Sometimes, I think I am… too much like my mother. Funny, smart, beautiful— of course— but also, very sad. I do not want to be burden. To Jane. Or her family. Oni i tak uzhe byli ko mne slishkom dobry.”
“What does that mean?”
“Ah… I just… I say… her family has already been so good to me. I don’t think they would be anymore. If they knew.”
David weighed his next question carefully, not wanting to tip his hand and spook Ilya. Maybe Yuna’s theories were getting to him, but it sounded dangerously like Shane might be Jane after all.
“I thought you said your fight was about meeting her parents?”
“Ah, yes. It was. I have met her parents, but not as her boyfriend. Jane wants to stop hiding. I am afraid I cannot have her in the light.”
On instinct, David rounded the kitchen counter and reached out to Ilya to clasp his hand on the back of Ilya’s neck, hoping the weight would help ground him.
“I need you to listen to me, son.” David waited a beat as Ilya took a few deep breaths. “You are a good man. The work you do with Shane at the Irina Foundation is selfless and helps so many people. You’re an incredible captain who’s managed to turn around the Centaurs in barely two seasons. It was very brave of you to leave behind Boston to be closer to your partner. It’s very brave of you to pursue Canadian citizenship. It’s easy to forget how far you’ve come when your goals seem so far away, but I promise, if you take a moment to look back you’ll see you’re further up the mountain than you think.”
The floodgates opened and Ilya started to cry. David squeezed the back of his neck gently, letting his thumb make windshield wiper motions just below Ilya’s hairline. Taking a fortifying breath, he continued.
“If Yuna and I were… Jane’s parents… we would go to bed every night thanking our lucky stars that such a wonderful man was taking care of our child. That a man with such a big heart would love… our Jane… after we’re no longer here to do so.”
Ilya let out a painful, choked sob, as if he was trying to shove his emotions back down his throat. “Please, no lies. Is not true.”
“No lies. I’d never lie, not about something this important. Jane and her family will be lucky to have you, and will love getting to know you… as Jane’s partner.” David manhandled Ilya into a hug, supporting the majority of his weight when Ilya slumped against him.
“Do you have anyone to talk to? Other than Jane?” David felt Ilya’s shrug and the accompanying huff of air.
“Da, I started therapy… maybe half year ago? Jane thought it was good idea. But… feelings are hard in English. Much gets lost in translation.”
David patted Ilya’s back, not unlike you would for a fussy baby, as he digested that tidbit. Navigating generational trauma in a second language sounded, quite frankly, exhausting.
“Kid, I’d feel better if you came home with me for a few days. Yuna would love to see you, and she’ll want to confirm you’re okay with her own eyes.”
Ilya nodded against David’s shoulder. “Ok. I will go with you.”
If David was being honest, he hadn’t expected Ilya to agree so easily. It was almost concerning, how malleable he was right now. How easily he opened the door, how easily he ate the pelmeni, how easily he agreed to go to the Hollander residence for a few days. Normally, Ilya did all of these things… enthusiastically. With a huge smile and a twinkle in his eyes, a conspiratorial air swirling around him.
“Great, that’s great kid.” David tightened his hold on Ilya, bracing for what he had to say next. “And Ilya, when we get home, I think you should call the team doctor.”
Ilya half-heartedly attempted to pull from David’s hold.
“Hey, hey, I know it sounds scary. But you’re brave. And you can’t keep going like this. If your body was hurt in some way, you’d call a doctor, take some medicine, rest and ice until you felt like yourself again, right? You should do the same thing for your mind. Regardless of what happens with… Jane… you need to take care of your mind. Yuna and I will be right by your side, if that’s what you want.”
David felt Ilya nod. “Ok. I go with you. I call team doctor.”
As Ilya trudged up the stairs to shower and pack his bag, David texted a quick update in the family group chat.
I have him. Convinced him to come spend a few days with us.
Separately, just to Yuna, David added,
Don’t want to worry Shane too much while he’s on the road, but we also discussed calling the team doctor. Do you think there are any Russian-speaking therapists in Ottawa?
Yuna’s response was immediate, bringing a smile to David’s face.
I’ve found five so far, two of which seem worth looking into.
For the first time since their FaceTime with Shane hours ago, David felt the boulder on his chest lift slightly. Yuna was on the case, and had been from the moment Shane fired a warning shot. More realistically, she’d probably had this list stored since the hospital visit all those weeks ago. Yuna had incredible foresight, always identifying problems and their accompanying solutions long before they reared their ugly heads.
If David and Yuna had anything to say about it, Shane’s Ilya was going to be around for a long time.