Sweet Caroline (Corey Crawford)

Sweet Home Chicago

Caroline

"Dad... I told you I'm going to be fine" I sigh as his grip on my shoulders tighten. I know they say it's hard watching your kids leave home, and I'm a only child on top of that, but this is just plain ridiculous. He literally wasn't about to let me go. I've been trying to leave for like 20 minutes now. This has to end sometime soon... right?

"I know you'll be fine. But I still don't want you to leave. What am I going to do without my little girl with me" he asks, a tear threatening to fall. I try my best to not let it affect me but it was hard.

"I'm 26, Dad. I have three university degrees and can defend myself pretty well, I'm not a little girl anymore" I defend.

"You will always be my little girl" he says cupping my cheek and I couldn't help but smile. He presses a light kiss to my forehead and he finally lets me go.

"Promise to call every night" he says handing me my bags.

"I promise."

"And don't let the boys give you a hard time" he continues.

"I never do" I smirk.

"Please be safe" he begs and I let out a grunt.

"Dad..." I warn and he sighs.

"I know Caro... I know. I knew this day would come, I just didn't think it would be this hard" he admits.

"I'm gonna miss you too" I smile. He pulls me into a hug and I him get it out. It will be a while before I can do this again so I wanted to remember what it felt like.

"I'm proud of you... so proud" he says and I smile into his chest.

"Thanks Dad, but I really should be going. The cab is here" I say and he lets go.

"Alright. I'll see you around kiddo" he smiles.

"See you around Dad."

And with that I take my suitcase and the rest of my belongings and load them up into the cab. The taxi takes me to the airport where I go through security and wait for my plane to arrive. I sit and keep to myself in a corner watching people pass me by. Some were frantically trying to get to their gates, others just waiting for a delay to pass. But everyone having the same feeling that they need to be somewhere that wasn't here. And that's where I fit in.

I've been in Canada my whole life, well besides when I was traveling with my mom and dad. But those were business trips, this is different. I was packing up and moving hundreds of miles away from home to follow in my parents footsteps.

My mom isn't with us anymore, she passed away from cancer seven years back. But she lives on inside of me, her only child she had. She was the creative type, had a eye for details and a way of saying things that you wouldn't think of. She was a writer, and a damn good one. She even wrote a book and I still read it all the time. It's how I keep the memories of her alive since I won't be able to make new ones. I have all her journals and papers and stuff from when she was alive. I love to read them, whether it was what she said about falling in love with my dad or when she had me. It's always fun to go back through those and remember how amazing she was.

And my dad, well he was no one other than the great Patrick Roy. One of the best and highly decorated goalies in the history of the nhl. He has four cups between two different teams and won playoff MVP three of those years. He holds tons of records and has his number retired with two different teams. I loved watching Dad play growing up, I got to see most of his career because I was born when he was just 19 years old. And although I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to happen, he claims I'm the best thing that has ever happened to him. And since he stopped playing and my mom has been gone I was all he had left. But I had my own destiny to create and he was still trying to figure out what was going to happen next for him.

My path led me to Chicago, the Blackhawks to be exact. They were under fairly new management and were looking to round out their staff team. They wanted someone to write stuff for their website and the NHL website and I was someone. I was more than qualified for the job but I still left my last name out of the application process. I will have to tell them who I was eventually but I wanted to get hired based on my knowledge and my writing skills, not my name, and I did just that. I grew up around hockey and literature and it only made sense to put two and two together. And that equals a decent paying job in one of the coolest city's in the world. I always loved when Dad played there. We would grab a slice of pizza and look at the buildings with the widest of eyes. I was really hoping this worked out and I could stay there because I had a really good feeling about this.

Eventually they call my gate number and I gather my things before going over. They check my ticket and let me onto the plane. I find my seat near the front by the window and sit down. I pull out my headphones and play some music to drown everything out. I've been on quite a few plane rides before, they never seemed to bother me. But I was a content soul who didn't talk much. I was more of a listener, and if I got a chance, I would rather be listening to music.

I wait for the flight to take off as everyone gets seated. A guy puts his things in the overhead before sitting next to me. We sit there for a while before I can feel him staring at me. I let it go for a little but I can literally feel his eyes burning into me. Finally I take a headphone out and turn to him.

I am met with a pair of big deep brown eyes and thick lips. He was quite taller than me and had some really nice hair. He smelled like the woods, but in a good way. He smiles over to me revealing sparkling teeth and it was kind of endearing. I know people in Canada are supposed to be nice but that's not always the case, but this guy seemed cool.

"Are you wearing a vintage Montreal Canadiens Patrick Roy rookie Stanley Cup finals playoffs jersey" the kind man asks and I smile.

"I am" I nod and he smiles back.

"That's so cool, I had one just like it as a kid but it never looked that nice" he admits. He had a hint of a Canadian accent but spoke great English.

"I have quite a few of Roy jerseys. But I'm moving and only brought one with me, and it's this one" I say picking up the material between my fingers.

"Are you a big fan of his" the man asks and I kinda laugh. I didn't mean to but it was pretty ironic.

"Yeah, you could say that" I nod.

"I idolized him growing up. I'm from Montreal and I play hockey, goalie even. I wish I could be half as successful as him" the man claims.

Wait... he played hockey?

"Who do you play for" I question.

"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Corey Crawford, I play for the Blackhawks" he explains and I stop. I really should have figured that out a lot sooner.

"Well that explains why you're going to Chicago" I nod. And a few other things.

"What about you? Why are you going from Montreal to Chicago" he asks.

"A new job. I'm finally getting a chance to step out and do something with my life, and it all starts there" I explain.

"That's pretty cool" he admits. "I never did catch your name."

"I'm Caroline" I say and he smiles.

"Caroline... I like it."