My Hockey Heartthrob: A Promise in Overtime

Chapter Eighty-Seven

The Following Year

Young Richard's junior year of high school brings the accelerating reality of college recruitment, offers now arriving with genuine seriousness from several respected programs, and the whole family watches him navigate the decision with the same careful, deliberate consideration his mother once demonstrated at exactly his age.

"I want to visit a few different schools before deciding anything," he tells his parents and grandparents, during a family dinner devoted specifically to discussing his emerging options. "I don't want to just assume Ashford's the right choice, even though I know it means a lot to our family's history."

"That's exactly the right instinct," Adrian tells him, genuine pride evident. "Your mother approached her own decision the same careful way, all those years ago. I think that deliberate consideration serves you well, regardless of where you ultimately land."

Mara, watching her grandson work through the same thoughtful process that's characterized so much of this family's approach to major decisions, feels a familiar warmth settle in her chest — watching genuine wisdom, hard-won across decades, continuing to pass forward into each new generation.

Richard visits three different programs that spring — a well-regarded Midwestern school with a genuinely strong athletic tradition; a smaller East Coast program known for its academic rigor alongside solid hockey; and finally, Ashford University itself, walking the same paths his parents and grandparents once walked, touring the same rink where so much of his family's extraordinary history first began.

"It's strange," he admits to Mara, during a quiet moment following the Ashford visit, both of them walking together along the same river path Mara once walked with Adrian, decades earlier. "Walking through this place, knowing everything that happened here. It feels different than just touring a hockey program. It feels like walking through actual history."

"I understand that feeling completely," Mara says, smiling at the memory of her own complicated relationship with these familiar grounds. "This place carries a lot of weight, for our whole family. I don't think that has to determine your decision, though. You should choose based on what genuinely serves your own path forward, not just family sentiment."

"I know," Richard says, thoughtful. "But I also think — maybe the history isn't just weight. Maybe it's also strength. Knowing I'd be building on something real, something that's already proven it can hold difficult things and still grow into something beautiful."

Mara feels tears rise at her grandson's genuine, thoughtful reflection, recognizing in his words the same deep wisdom his own mother once demonstrated, now passed forward another generation.

"That's a beautiful way to think about it," she says, quiet. "Whatever you eventually decide."

Richard commits to Ashford University that autumn, choosing the program after genuine, careful consideration rather than simply defaulting to family tradition, and the whole extended family gathers to celebrate the decision with warm, genuine pride.

"I want you to know," he tells his grandparents, during the celebration, "I didn't choose this just because of our family's history here. I chose it because the program genuinely felt right, the coaching staff impressed me, and yes, because building on something with this much meaning felt like the right choice, not an obligation."

"We're incredibly proud of you," Adrian says, pulling his grandson into a warm embrace. "Whatever your reasons, genuinely. I'm just grateful to watch you continue building your own path, informed by but not constrained by everything that came before you."

"I love watching this whole cycle continue," Mara reflects to Adrian, later that evening, both of them processing the significant milestone. "Not identical repetition, but genuine continuation — each generation building thoughtfully on what came before, adding their own wisdom and choices to the whole ongoing story."

That winter brings another significant family milestone — Selene's daughter Grace's wedding, held in Chicago, the whole extended family gathering once more to celebrate the next generation's continued growth.

"I keep thinking about how full this circle has become," Selene reflects to Mara, watching Grace dance with her new husband, genuine joy evident throughout the celebration. "From that hospital room, all those years ago, to this — watching my own daughter build her own marriage, surrounded by this whole extraordinary family we've built together."

"I feel that too," Mara agrees, genuine emotion evident. "I don't think either of us could have imagined, back then, exactly how much genuine joy would eventually grow from everything we both survived."

They spend the evening in warm, easy celebration, the whole extended family — now spanning generations, multiple weddings, multiple births, multiple hard-won reconciliations — gathered together in genuine, complete joy.

That spring, as Richard prepares for his own graduation from high school ahead of beginning his college journey that autumn, Mara finds herself reflecting on the whole extraordinary arc of her family's continued growth, sitting down to begin drafting what she's decided will be her fourth and, she suspects, final book — a comprehensive reflection on the entire multi-generational journey, from that original tournament reunion through every subsequent milestone of healing and growth.

"I want this one to feel complete," she tells Adrian, discussing her plans for the new project. "Not just our own story anymore, or even just the grandparenthood reflections from my last book. I want to capture the whole arc — how genuine healing doesn't just repair the original wound, but continues rippling forward, generation after generation, into something neither of us could have fully imagined at the beginning."

"I think that's a beautiful final chapter to your writing career," Adrian says, genuine support evident. "Though I suspect, knowing you, 'final' might prove somewhat aspirational."

"Perhaps," Mara admits, laughing. "Though I think there's something meaningful about actually completing the story properly, rather than just continuing indefinitely without ever reaching genuine closure."

She spends that spring and summer working through the manuscript carefully, interviewing extended family members once more, capturing their reflections on the whole multi-generational journey — Amparo's perspective on raising her own children informed by everything she learned from her parents; young Richard's own thoughtful reflections on inheriting a legacy of honesty and resilience; Selene's continued wisdom on chosen family and genuine, deliberate love; even Voss's outside perspective on watching this extraordinary family's transformation unfold across decades of genuine friendship.

"I think this book might actually be the most important thing I've ever written," she tells Adrian, working through a particularly moving chapter drawing on interviews with the whole extended family. "Not because it's more dramatic than our original story, but because it captures something genuinely rare — proof that healing actually holds, generation after generation, rather than simply being a temporary fix that eventually reveals itself as insufficient."

"I believe that completely," Adrian says, genuine pride evident. "I think that's actually the deepest gift you're offering readers, honestly — genuine hope that healing isn't just possible, but sustainable, capable of building something that actually lasts across generations."

That evening, once another productive writing session has concluded, Mara and Adrian sit together on their familiar porch, the massive maple tree providing its generous shade even as evening settles around them, watching their grandson Richard practice some informal drills in the backyard, preparing himself, in his own quiet, deliberate way, for the next chapter of his own unfolding journey.

"I keep thinking about how far we've all come," Mara reflects, watching her grandson's careful, focused practice. "From that press conference, all those years ago, to this — watching the fourth generation of our family continue building their own path, informed by everything we all survived and built together."

"I think about it constantly," Adrian agrees, pulling her close. "I don't think either of us could have imagined, back at the beginning of all of this, exactly how far the ripples of our own healing would eventually extend."

They sit together for a while longer, watching the evening settle comfortably around their familiar backyard, both of them grateful for the whole long, complicated, beautiful arc of their family's continued growth — Richard's own thoughtful college decision, Grace's joyful wedding, Mara's meaningful final book taking shape, an entire extended family continuing to build, deliberately, honestly, generation after generation, on the foundation they first began constructing so many difficult years ago.

"I love you," Mara says, quiet, into the settling summer evening.

"I love you too," Adrian says, holding her close, watching their grandson continue his careful, dedicated practice in the fading light. "Every single hard, honest, completely worth it year of this whole, beautiful, still-unfolding family — and every year still ahead, watching it continue growing, generation after generation, into something none of us could have possibly imagined, all those years ago in a stairwell that smelled like industrial cleaner."