Chapter Text
At thirty-two years old, Shane Hollander’s life was everything he had always dreamed it would be. He had been captain of the Montreal Voyageurs for a decade and was still skating like he was in his mid-twenties. He had four Stanley Cup rings, and felt confident he had another few cup runs in him before he retired. He’d one all of the NHL awards he was eligible for at least one time, and he seemed a shoe-in to be inducted into the Hall of Fame someday. He had all the brand deals he wanted, and had recently even begun feeling free to reject any offer that he was less than excited about. He even felt good about his contribution to society, as his interest in real estate in his twenties had recently transformed into backing an affordable housing project, making a difference for families struggling to get by given the outlandish rent prices in Montreal.
But still, as he prepared to head to his first practice of his fifteenth season as a Voyageur, he couldn’t help but feel as though something was missing. He stared out the window of his suburban house and wondered, not for the first time, why he had ever felt the need to leave his apartment close to the arena for a house on a cul-de-sac with four bedrooms. The only company he ever really got was his parents, Rose, or occasionally a teammate whose family got sick during the season and was looking for somewhere to avoid the germs. Most nights, his bedroom was the only one used, and the house felt awfully big with just Shane and his low maintenance cacti.
A year earlier, Shane had admitted these feelings to his parents after a dinner filled with persistent questions from his mother Yuna, and his father David had offered a solution that Shane had the feeling he’d been thinking of since he first visited Shane’s new house: bird feeders. He understood why Shane didn’t want to have a pet in the house that would need care during away games, but birds in the backyard were an entirely different story. Shane wasn’t so sure this was really what he needed, but his dad had recently retired and seemed very happy to spend his time planning the perfect array of bird feeders for his yard, so Shane had consented. And he did have to admit that watching them flit around did have more entertainment value than he had anticipated.
But this morning, as he watched a ruby throated hummingbird drink from the most recently installed feeder, Shane found himself yearning for the company he had imagined when he had first moved in five years previously, recently after Scott Hunter had come out. The support that his partner Kip and him had received had made Shane feel like maybe there was some hope for him to find a boyfriend while he was still playing hockey. But he had received a lukewarm (at best) reception in the locker room when he came out to his team, and then a conversation with Scott about some challenges he and Kip had faced made Shane slow his roll. Scott had assured him that it had been worth it overall, but shane had decided it wasn’t worth coming out publicly unless he had someone else by his side to do it for.
He had briefly taken a stab at online dating on a site that Rose assured him was more secure than most, but the couple dates he had been on were some of the most awkward hours of his life. Small talk was not really his strength; it was truly incredible that he’d ever managed to start things with Rose.
Usually, Shane fully stood by his decision to give up his dating and keep his focus on hockey. But occasionally, there were moments like this one where he imagined someone else joining him at the breakfast table, or maybe even a baby crying in the bedroom he’d always secretly thought would be perfect for a nursery.
Shane shook himself. This was not the spiral he needed to go down before he started a new season. He was happy with his life; hockey had always been what was most important to him, and that hadn’t changed. And it’s not like he was all alone– he had his parents, Rose, Hayden, J.J., and all the rookies that looked up to him (he’d yet to meet anyone born in the 21st century as blatantly homophobic as the Voyageurs who were reaching retirement age). And he had plenty of time with children as well, since he was the go-to babysitter when Jackie and Hayden wanted a date night away from their brood.
Shane did the dishes, grabbed his bag, and headed out for the arena. And as he pulled out of the garage, he noticed there was finally a car parked at the house next door, which had sold back in June but had remained vacant all Summer. Well, it probably wouldn’t impact Shane all that much– he didn’t really know any of his neighbors very well. And as he continued to stare at the car in the driveway, he found himself hoping this would remain the same. The car was a sensible enough Mercedes SUV, but it had a custom paint job with red flames that would barely belong on an actual racecar. Whoever drove it was probably not someone Shane had anything in common with.
Taking one last glance at the car, Shane pressed on the gas and headed towards the highway. He needed to get to the ice– surely playing hockey again would help him remember how happy he was with his life. And how, as long as he could keep playing, he really didn’t need anyone to come and interrupt it.
***
As he drove home from practice, Shane felt optimistic about the season to come. Of course he was not sure what rookies would make it into the season, but many that had made it thus far seemed energetic, respectful, and seemed quite capable of getting the puck into the net. And perhaps most importantly for Shane, Comeau had finally retired and he hadn’t heard a single homophobic slur the whole time he was at the rink.
When he arrived home, a moving truck had joined the Mercedes SUV next door, and the front door was propped open. Shane briefly considered waiting outside to say hi, but looked back at the paint on the SUV and decided that probably was a social interaction he needed a little time to prepare for.
He parked in the garage and began his typical after practice routine, putting all his sweaty under armour on a rack to dry. He’d wash it before wearing it again, but he found this way he could use the scent-free detergent he preferred. Then, he pulled out his training log and started recording the details of today’s workout. The team kept this info as well of course, but Shane liked to keep a personal copy along with his daily health data and food log.
When evening approached, Shane got out his meal plan prepared by his trusted dietitian and went to the kitchen to begin preparing the farro salad he would eat with grilled chicken. He decided the weather was nice enough to warrant using the actual grill rather than a skillet, but when he stepped outside to fire up the grill he was in for a shock: there was a little girl sitting in one of the chairs on the patio, staring out into his backyard.
Shane froze when he saw her. She looked a little smaller than Hayden’s six year-old daughter Amber, and she had golden curls pulled into pigtails that were not remotely even. Although Shane must have made noise as he opened the door, she did not acknowledge him at all, but kept her hazel eyes fixed in front of her. Shane followed her gaze into the backyard where a hummingbird was buzzing away, hovering as it drank the sugar water in the feeder.
He knew he should do something, but he didn’t know what. Clearly this little girl was too adventurous for her own good if she had ended up alone in Shane’s backyard, but surely she had heard of stranger danger and might not take well to a 200 pound man surprising her. Still, he had to say something.
“Hello,” he ventured, keeping his voice soft.
“Hello,” said the girl, not taking her eyes off the hummingbird.
Well, it didn’t seem like Shane needed to be worried about frightening her.
“What are you doing?” He tried again.
“I’m looking at the bird,” she said. “Do you know what kind it is?”
This didn’t answer Shane’s true question of why she was on his patio, but he figured he might as well humor her. “It’s called a hummingbird. Do you hear the noise it makes? That hum? That’s because of how fast it moves its wings to stay up in the air.”
“Wow,” said the little girl. “I love Canada.”
Shane had too much national pride to resist smiling upon hearing that. But, he quickly got back to business, sitting down in the chair next to the girl.
“My name is Shane. What’s yours?”
“Irina,” she replied, still staring at the hummingbird in some sort of trance.
“Where did you come from, Irina?”
Finally, she turned and looked at Shane. As she looked up to him, the sun got in her eyes and she squinted, and he instinctively raised his arms to shade her view. She then pointed at the house next door, confirming Shane’s guess that she must belong to whoever owned that outlandish car. Shane didn’t have a great feeling about their responsibility as parents so far.
“And how come you came over here to sit?” Shane asked her.
“Well, Papa’s been moving boxes all day and it is so borning.” She moved her hands back and forth for emphasis, with the kind of animation only a child could have. “And I kept asking him to go outside, and first he said no, but I kept asking until he said yes, and when I came outside I heard this noise, ‘buzzzz’, and I walked closer until I saw what it was, and it was that pretty bird. So I sat in this chair to watch it, and then you came out and told me it’s called, I forget, what is its name again?”
“A hummingbird.”
“Oh yes, hummingbird. I will remember this time. Can I stay and watch it, Mr… what’s your name again?”
“It’s Shane. And no, sorry Irina, but I think I should take you home to your papa before he worries.”
The little girl was awfully cute, but Shane didn’t want her or her father to think it was somehow okay for her to come into Shane’s backyard by herself. There may be no fences allowed per HOA rules, but that doesn’t mean property lines don’t exist, or that he wanted to somehow end up liable for what, a four or five year-old?
“Will the hummingbird be here again tomorrow? Can I come see it then?”
Her little face was so earnest that Shane couldn’t bring himself to fully disappoint her. “I think so,” he said. “But let’s go as your papa.”
He extended his hand to her, and she took it and got out of the chair. And she didn’t let go as they walked to her patio, and through the back door that she had clearly left open.
“Papa!” she yelled when they entered the kitchen that was nearly identical to Shane’s. “I brought you a friend! He has the prettiest bird in his yard! Can we go see it together?”
He heard footsteps begin to come down the stairs, and then a deep voice shouted something in a language that Shane thought was probably Russian. The footsteps continued to grow closer, and then Irina’s papa entered the kitchen. Shane dropped his jaw as they made eye contact– it was a face he never thought he’d see again.
“Ilya Rozanov?”
“Shane Hollander?”