Corin practically squeals into the phone. “When can you come back to town so we can celebrate?” “Congratulations, sweetheart. I should be able to get back in a few weeks.” The past three years have been a roller coaster of ups and downs, of flights from California to Brazil, then when I got traded, flights from California to Vancouver. Corin and I have been there for each other in ways I’d never imagined. Her successes are mine and vice versa. Just as her pain is my pain. Her battles are my battles. Last season I was the least scored on goalie in the league. And then I got traded, something I wasn’t expecting or necessarily even wanting. But the flights are definitely shorter. Landen and Layla had a rough patch and O’Brien had to go to angry dude rehab to get his shit together, which he did just in time for Layla to give birth to their healthy baby girl. We visit them as often as possible—Corin more often than me because she’s still in California, where she just learned she was accepted into law school at UC Berkeley.
