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It had started with Timbits, of course. Like most families, they would stop off at Tim Hortons on their way to the cold rink on Saturday mornings. Yuna and David would get their coffees, and Shane, after a characteristically long time deciding, would select the Timbit that he wanted. He would try to haggle for a donut, but staring up at his parents, with a yellow Timbits jersey down to his knees, the donuts were half the size of his face. So they said not yet, and would take the Timbits to go for him to enjoy after practice.
Eventually, like all kids, he grew up enough that he could handle a whole donut on his own. He had also very definitely decided on his preference. Double chocolate. So now, every weekend practice or away game was accompanied by a double chocolate donut for a job well done. Sometimes they had time to eat in the restaurant. But other times Yuna found herself holding out the crinkly brown paper bag into the backseat so Shane could enjoy it on their long drive home. As the Hollanders were creatures of habit, this was the standard for years.
But of course, Shane kept growing and eventually moved away. And the coffee got so bad that Yuna and David stopped going. There were milestones to celebrate. Second pick, Rookie of the Year, Stanley Cups. But they weren’t in Ottawa anymore, and the celebrations weren’t just for their little family of three. They were big and loud, champagne spraying revels, and Yuna had been there for each one. But she didn’t see the captain of the Montreal metros. She saw the little boy who sat contentedly in his car seat, chocolate crumbs on his jersey, the first time they relented and let him get the full-sized donut because he scored his first hat trick.
It was not that Yuna never got to celebrate these wins. They always did something. But it had been different since he came back to Ottawa. Bittersweet. Shane was so much happier here. He had a good community, good friends, and a man he loved so much it made Yuna’s heart hurt to think of all the time her boy had to spend hiding it. He hadn’t had that in Montreal, and it was clear now he had been relying on his parents more for the support he hadn’t been getting from anywhere else. But Shane had found his people now—so many people who loved him and wanted to celebrate him. Yuna would always be Shane Hollander’s number one fan (Ilya would argue with her when she brought this up), but the fan club was much bigger now and she knew she had to share.
Last night had been a very big win for Shane Hollander and the Shane Hollander Fan Club. The Ottawa Centaurs had won the cup on home ice. Yuna had been there for the other Stanley Cup wins, but this one had been her favourite. Between the final buzzer going and being down on the ice, it was a blur. Yuna was unsure if it was because there was so much going on or because she couldn’t stop crying. Probably a mixture of both. Upon seeing her, Shane had wrapped her in a big bear hug, lifting her off her feet in glee. Ilya had skated up behind her, throwing his arms around both of them, making Yuna the middle of a hockey player sandwich. David had snapped a picture. She already had plans to get it printed for the living room.
She had been standing in the living room when she got the idea, trying to figure out how to arrange the photographs once the new one was printed. The current gallery showed images from all stages of Shane’s career, and some newer ones from Ilya. Contrasted against all the professional shots, was the small framed Timbits hockey card. Shane couldn’t have been more than 5, the jersey that year was blue, and he smiled with all the joy in the world. Yuna had thought it was the look of youth, of just having fun and exploring the world and your capabilities in it. Shane looked like that less and less frequently as he grew up, the pressures of the sport he loved weighing down on him. But Yuna realized that little boy had not disappeared, Shane had looked exactly like that last night, hoisting the cup above his head with his husband by his side.
Yuna texted before she left. Even though it would take her some time to get there. It was not super early, but she hoped that after everything, her boys would consider winning the Stanley Cup an excuse to sleep in. And even if they weren’t sleeping in, they would probably need a heads up anyway.
Yuna hadn’t set foot in a Tim Hortons in years. It was very different. Modern. Branding had swapped the tan for silver. And they had weird things on the menu. Who wanted a pizza from Tim Hortons? When she got to the counter, it was reflexive. Medium coffee with two creams and a double chocolate donut, but then she paused. What would Ilya want? She scanned the display case for a moment. None of the fancy donuts, probably a classic one. But which one?
Yuna left the restaurant with her coffee, a double chocolate donut, and an additional box of a dozen classic donuts.
The coffee was gross. Yuna let it go cold in the centre console, lamenting the downfall of the once beloved institution.
She arrived at their house, but only went up to knock after confirming she had received a reply from Shane that they were awake and decent.
But Shane was holding the door open before she could knock, which was probably good because she had her hands full with the donut box.
“Mom, what are you-“
”I know it’s silly,” She said, and as she said it she realized it really was. These were just donuts. She was sure Shane would be getting better, fancier congratulatory gifts. “But I just wanted to… here” She said, handing Shane the bag and Ilya the box. They took them. Shane’s face lit up as he realized what was in the bag. Ilya was peeking too, but didn’t seem to understand. But then Iyla looked in his box, and then back at Shane with what Yuna would describe as a “shit-eating grin”
Shane looked over to Ilya, likely about to explain the significance, when he also registered the box. “Why do I only get one?” Shane asked.
“Because I am her favourite son,” Ilya grinned, winking at Yuna
“I knew what you wanted!” Yuna said in her defence, and Shane smiled. Just like he had the night before, he wrapped her in a big hug.
“Thanks Mom,” he mumbled into her hair.
She squeezed him tight, “A big win back home. I thought we should celebrate the old-fashioned way.”
Ilya left to bring his box to the kitchen, also probably to give them some privacy. Not that they really needed it. Ilya wasn’t a stranger. And Yuna had come here to celebrate him too.
“Do you want to stay for coffee?” Shane asked.
“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude” Yuna hadn’t even taken off her jacket.
“Of course you will stay,” Ilya called from the kitchen. “How else will you know what donut to get me next time we win?”
So it was settled. Shane took her jacket, and she settled at the kitchen table, thanking Ilya when he brought her coffee over. As soon as Shane had his own coffee, he pulled the donut out of the bag. Always careful, trying to make sure that not too much of the icing stuck to the interior of the bag. He took a happy bite and put it back down on the bag. So fast Yuna almost missed it, Ilya snuck his hand over and tried to grab a piece. But hockey players have fast reflexes and Shane slapped his hand away before Ilya could claim his prize.
“You have your own!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the box in front of Ilya that definitely contained a double chocolate donut.
“Yours looks like it will taste better.”
“Boys…” Yuna warned, rolling her eyes. But she couldn’t resist laughing when they both shot her identical “I wasn’t even doing anything” looks. But the tension diffused immediately when Ilya planted a kiss on Shane’s cheek.
“So what is the story here,” Ilya asked.
Yuna had been prepared to explain. But Shane immediately launched into it. Yuna’s heart swelled with every word he said. She didn’t realize he had remembered so much, that it had been so important to him. He shared story after story in between bites of his treat, bringing up specific milestones and celebrations they had shared in Shane’s early hockey career.
Ilya stayed quiet the whole time. Alternating between sips of coffee and bites of donut. Yuna had been curious if Ilya had been planning to demolish the entire box of donuts in one sitting or if he would just select the ones he thought looked best. He opted for a combination approach. Taking single bites from each one. Shane stopped his storytelling when Ilya took a bite of his own double chocolate donut and made a face.
“You don’t like it?” Shane sounded offended.
“I don’t like this one. Maybe yours was better.” Ilya gave a pointed look to where Shane’s donut had been “But now I will never know.”
Shane was in the middle of telling the story about his first game in Kingston when Ilya spoke up, triumphant.
“This one, I like this one.” He said, his mouth still full, emphasizing the donut in his hand.
It only took Yuna a moment to identify it. She made eye contact with Shane and they both burst out laughing.
“What is so funny? What is this one?”
Yuna looked at the pastry in his hand. Shane had a preference for the cake donuts. But Ilya held up one of the yeasted donuts, with a chocolate glaze. From where Ilya had taken a bite, she could see the vanilla custard that was threatening to plop out onto the table.
Shane leaned forward, kissing the corner of Ilya’s lip where a smear of custard had appeared. “Boston Cream, moya lyuobov.”