“It’s cool, man,” I said. “Let it rip. We’re open about that stuff here.”
A little girl with dark curly hair was waving her hand around frantically.
“Yes?” I asked her.
“Um, I have my own ice skates. They used to be my sister’s, but now they’re mine. They’ve got purple stars.”
“Awesome,” I said. “Wish mine had stars on ’em.”
The kids were all squirming and it was evident they’d been sitting long enough.
“You guys ready?” I asked, looking around at them. The chorus of excited responses made me laugh.
The rolling walker contraptions kids used when they were learning to skate were lined up on the ice. Liam and I, and the chaperones, each had to be responsible for two kids. Mine were both boys.
“What are your names?” I asked them.
“Jerico,” a boy with milk chocolate skin and huge brown eyes said. “Everyone calls me Jerry.”
“Sam,” said the other kid, a skinny boy with glasses and a mop of blond hair.
“Alright guys, just hold on to those walkers and skate. I’ll be right here.”
Jerry’s eyes widened. “You can skate backwards?”
His awestruck expression made my chest feel full. “Yeah. I’ll teach you how once you’ve mastered going forward.”
“Did you use one of these when you learned to skate?” Jerry gestured at the wheeled blue contraption.
“Uh, no, I didn’t. They weren’t invented back then.”
“Then I don’t wanna use it either,” he said.
“You might fall on your . . . butt. It’ll hurt.”
He shrugged. “Can’t hurt worse than a whippin’. My dad’s really strong.”
“My dad’s in jail,” Sam said.
I looked at the two little boys, wishing I knew what to say. What struck me most about them was that they both looked so happy and eager. They reminded me of the way I’d felt as a little kid—like every day was an adventure.
“You know what?” I said to them. “My dad left home when I was a baby. I had a great mom who raised me all by herself. And ice skating and hockey helped me feel better if I ever got sad about my dad.”
Jerry gave me an adoring gaze and I reached for his hands. “You hold on to me, Jerry, and Sam, you push that cart thing right next to us, okay?”
Music from a local radio station streamed through the arena’s speaker system and we set off down the ice. It was slow going at first, but Jerry and Sam wouldn’t quit trying. We did lap after lap, and they never got tired of skating.
The two hours flew by, and I was sorry when the chaperones rounded the kids up to leave. Jerry left the line in front of the door and threw himself against me with a powerful hug.
I hugged him back and he stared up at me with unabashed admiration. Had the past couple of hours been better for him or for me? It was a toss-up.
Liam and I met Keri near the front door. She was handing out tickets for our next home game to the kids and the chaperones.
“Hey, if you come to the game, come see me, okay?” I said to Jerry. “I’ll show you the locker room.”
“You will?” he asked, a huge grin on his face.
Liam and Keri stood with me as the kids left, waving and shouting goodbye.
“So you endured,” Keri said.
“Those kids are a trip,” Liam said. “I’d do that again. Let me know anytime you need me.”
“Yeah, me too,” I said.
“That meant a lot to those kids,” Keri said. “They’re from a local after school program and I think it was the first time any of them had been ice skating.”
“You did good, Keri,” I said. “That was a cool thing to set up.”
“If we were in the military I’d say ‘at ease’ right now. You’re free to swear and talk about women again,” she said with a laugh.
Liam gave her a playful look. “There’s only one woman I’m interested in,” he said.
She blushed and looked away. Apparently I wasn’t the only one with a thing for someone affiliated with our team.
Sidney
I’d known Brian Stern since I was a little girl with bright red pigtails. He was a friend of my father’s, which made it all the more annoying to have to seek a favor from him.
“Brian,” I said when he answered the phone. “It’s Sidney Stahl.”
“Sidney!” he boomed into the phone. “Been a long time. How are you?”
“I’m doing well, and you?”
“Good. And you sure as hell are doing well. Picked up a minor league team, I hear.”
This was my opening. “I did. That’s actually why I’m calling you.”
“You need help finding talent? Just say the word.”
Brian was a retired scout. One of the best. His influence was still far-reaching.
“I want to talk to you about Killian Bosch,” I said.
“Bosch?” Brian grunted. “That kid’s a damn mystery to me, Sid. Had it all. He was in with . . . Boston I think it was. They wanted him as soon as he finished college, but then he went to hell. Crazy partying, fighting, and reckless behavior. Jumped off a roof at a party if I remember right. He put a guy in the hospital, too. Busted up his face really bad. By the time he graduated, no one wanted to touch him except the Flyers. No offense, Sidney, but beggars can’t be choosers.”
I sighed, considering my words. Did I want to lose my star? Hell no. But I knew this was the right thing to do.
“He’s grown up since then, Brian.”
The guffaw at the other end of the line made me roll my eyes. “Not from what I hear. He’s still fighting off the ice and getting arrested on a regular basis.”
Retired was apparently just a state of mind to Brian. Clearly he still knew what was going on with the game he loved and all its players.
“He’s cleaned up his act since I got here.”
It wasn’t completely true, but it wasn’t completely false, either. Seeing Killian leading that boy around the rink by the hands today, both of them laughing, had reached something inside me. I’d broken out in a sexually frustrated sweat, but I’d also seen the sweet goodness in him. He just needed someone to believe he was worth investing in.
“Sid . . .” Brian started.
“Just listen—”
“No, you listen. There are endless players out there who have talent and who won’t be a headache. The talent’s too thick for someone like you to take on a risk.”
“Have you seen him play? He’s got more than talent. He’s one of the best I’ve ever seen, Brian, and you know I’ve seen a lot.”
There was a beat of silence on the other end of the phone. “Well . . . I guess I wouldn’t mind seeing your team play a game. I heard you’re whipping ’em into shape. Proud of you, girl.”
My throat tightened at the words. I wanted to hear those same words from my father, but hearing them from Brian still sent a swell of pride into my chest.
“Thank you. I owe you one.”
Brian grunted his dismissal. “Your dad’s done a lot for me. You don’t owe me a thing. But you won’t know what game I’m coming to. This boy better have his A-game every time he hits the ice, ‘cause if he has an off night—”