Triumph {The Manhattan Trilogy #3}

Guest (J)

"Hello?" I answer the phone like I usually do. Miriam, my five-year-old daughter, tugs at my blouse. I give her the signal to wait before I listen to the person on the other end of the call.

"It's David, honey," my husband answers. "I'm in Princeton right now. The reason I called you is because I just met Kyle Palmieri of the New Jersey Devils. He used to play for the Brooklyn Bullies, the rival team of the Manhattan Jets. Anyway, the Twin Towers played for the Manhattan Jets when both they and Palmieri were kids, so they're all friends. I told the guy what happened to you and the Towers on September 11, and he offered to take our whole family to tomorrow morning's practice in Albany!"

"Let me ask Miriam," I tell him. Covering the phone with my hand, I ask my daughter, "Honey, would you go with Daddy and I to a hockey practice for a team in the New York Hockey League if Kyle Palmieri from the Devils took us there?"

"Yes!" She brushes her curly blond hair out of her eyes. "But where is the hockey?"

"It's in Albany, the capital of New York."

Miriam nods her head yes and tells me excitedly that she really wants to see the practice. Even though I am a Washington Capitals fan and David is a Toronto Maple Leafs fan, Miriam has adored the New Jersey Devils since she was old enough to walk. The Twin Towers, fans of the Manhattan sports teams, wish that my daughter was a Rangers fan, but since they played hockey against Kyle Palmieri growing up, they let it slide.

"Miriam said that she does want to go," I turn back to the phone. "I believe that she's very ecstatic about meeting Kyle Palmieri."

"Good," David answers, "because I didn't take the train back to Washington like I did to get here to New Jersey. I'm in Mr. Palmieri's car right now. He's going to drop me off at the house, rent a room at a hotel nearby, and then drive us to the practice tomorrow morning."

"Sweetheart, he doesn't have to pay to stay at a hotel!" I laugh. "We have a guest room, remember? You're always talking about how we never use it because we never have guests stay overnight. I think Kyle should sleep in the guest room. How does that sound?"

"Let me ask him," David responds. I hear him cover the phone and talk to the hockey player driving him home. After waiting a few seconds for a reply, he turns back to the call. "He said yes, he'll stay with us for a night."

"That sounds great," I twist a strand of my light brown hair around my finger. "I'll inform Miriam of this. I'm sure she'll be very happy to find out. Goodbye, David."

"See you soon, Julia," he sighs, then hangs up. I kneel down and take Miriam's hand. "Miriam, dear, Kyle Palmieri is going to be staying here overnight. But I need you to understand that he is not only an NHL player, he is our guest. You must be nice and respectful to him. Don't pester him with too many requests of autographs or pictures, just give him some peace and quiet. Pretend that he is part of the family, okay?"

"Can I still ask him to sign my jersey, hat, and poster?" Miriam hoisted herself onto a seat at our kitchen table.

"Yes, those three things are enough," I go to the refrigerator and remove the ingredients for the meal I'm planning to cook for dinner. "Daddy texted me to tell you that he and Mr. Palmieri will arrive at the house at 5:30, which is one hour and thirty minutes from now."

Miriam flashes a big grin to let me know that she understands before opening a tiny packet of gummy bears and starting to snack on them. I'm really going to put my all into the food I am cooking. This will be the most important guest at our home since we moved into it, and I want to make sure that the visit starts off well for him.

One hour later, my chicken marsala, mixed vegetables, and baked potatoes are finished. As I lay the last of the plates carefully on its placemat, there is a loud knock at the door. My husband waves shyly as he walks in with a book clutched in his other hand. Behind him, a newspaper folded up under his right arm, is Kyle Palmieri.

Miriam stifles a squeal at the sight of her favorite professional athlete as I hug David, then shake Kyle's hand. "Welcome, Mr. Palmieri, to our home. I'm sure you've already met David. My name is Julia, and this is our lovely daughter, Miriam Ava."

Kyle removes his baseball cap. "It's nice to finally meet you, Julia. David talked all about you on the ride back here. And this is your daughter! Hello, Miriam."

"Hi, Mr. Palmieri!" Miriam claps excitedly. "Welcome to my home."

"Your father told me that you really like my New Jersey Devils," Kyle crosses his arms. "Is that true?"

"I love the Devils!" Miriam stands up. "They are my favorite team. I hope you win the Stanley Cup this year. You will be the best team ever in the whole league!"

"We really do want to be the best team ever in the whole league," Kyle takes a seat next to Miriam. "And I assure you that I will try my best to make it that way. Hey, do you have any Devils stuff anywhere, kid? I'll gladly sign it for you if you do."

"Yes, I do!" Miriam straightens, preparing to run. "Let me go get the things from my room."

A minute later, my daughter returns with her Palmieri jersey, her Devils hat, and a rolled up poster of Kyle Palmieri that she hasn't hung up yet. Kyle is obviously flattered by being her favorite Devils player, and he signs everything, writing a cute message about having fun on each item. He politely thanks me for the meal I made, and I am relieved when he says it is delicious. David starts a discussion about football, and soon, he and Kyle are talking endlessly about the Washington Redskins and their upcoming season.

"So, Kyle," I announce, "tell us about your time playing against the Twin Towers in the New York Junior Hockey League."

"Man, Mrs. Alievi, where do I even start?" He swallows another piece of chicken as he rolls his eyes. "Well, I was drafted first overall by the Brooklyn Bullies in 2001, and the twins were drafted fourth and fifth to the Manhattan Jets. Honestly, I think they could have both gone first. North Tower never scored under twenty goals in her seven years with the team, and South Tower's overall save percentage was always over .900, meaning she made nine saves on every ten shots. I think I only scored eleven goals on her in my whole career."

"Wow, that's pretty good!" Miriam gasps. "You score so many goals, but you only scored eleven goals on South Tower?"

"That is correct," Kyle assures her. "Tomorrow morning, all three of you are going to see one of the best goalies in the history of professional hockey in New York practice for her new team. If you want me to, I'll buy us all Albany Capitals shirts and souvenirs when we get to the place."

"Oh, Kyle," I fold my hands. "That's a very nice offer, but you don't have to spend any money on us. We probably won't buy a lot of souvenirs anyway."

"Okay," he shrugs, "but let me know if you ever do want me to pay for anything."

Kyle Palmieri goes up to his room an hour after dinner, and he is asleep minutes later. I realize that it would be better if all of us fell asleep earlier, since we would have to leave for Albany at the crack of dawn. At seven o'clock, I read a fairy tale to Miriam and sing her songs until she is asleep, then go to my own room. David smiles at me as I climb into our bed.

The moment he wraps his arm around me and kisses the top of my head, I close my eyes and fall fast asleep.