Page 33 of The Love Comeback
The web page showcases smiling kids in matching jerseys lifting trophies and celebrating goals. But as I click through to the registration and fee pages, my stomach sinks lower and lower.
League fees: $1,200 per season.
Tournament fees: $300-$500 per tournament, 4-6 tournaments per season.
Travel expenses: Varies, but plan for hotel stays, meals, gas for away games.
Equipment requirements: Full gear in good condition, often including team-specific items.
The numbers blur together as I scroll, each one feeling like another door closing. The total cost would be well over $5,000 for the season. My fingers tremble slightly as I open my banking app, though I already know what I’ll find.
After rent, utilities, groceries, basic living expenses, and the small amount I try to put away each month for emergencies, there’s hardly anything left.
A notification pops up on my screen, reminding me that my car insurance payment is due next week. Another $175 that I’ll have to carefully budget around.
I quickly close my banking app with a heavy sigh, the harsh truth of our situation settling over me like a dark cloud. Katie and Brett’s passing not only left an emotional void in our lives, but also a significant financial burden. With his parents having more debt than assets and no life insurance, Colton didn’t receive much inheritance.
I’ve been meticulously budgeting my meager teacher salary with what little Social Security survivor benefits we receive to cover our basic needs. And while my new teaching job came with a raise, it’s certainly not enough to cover an immediate $5,000 expense.
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
When I open them again, I look up to see Colton attempting a spin on the ice, laughing as he wobbles and nearly falls. Kade catches him by the arm, steadying him, and they’re both grinning like it’s the most fun they’ve had all day.
The joy on Colton’s face is so pure, so unrestrained. He doesn’t know much about rent payments or insurance premiums or the cost of travel teams. He just knows that he loves hockey, that he’s good at it, and that he wants to be out there on the ice with a team around him.
I take another deep breath and tuck my phone away.
Maybe I can pick up some tutoring gigs or some side hustle.
Because one thing’s for certain—I’m not going to be the one to dim that light in Colton’s eyes. Not if there’s anything I can do to keep it shining.
As the lesson wraps up, Colton skates over to the boards where I’m now standing, his cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement.
“Did you see me?” he asks, breathless. “Did you see how I did those crossovers at the end? Kade says they were really good!”
I smile, reaching out to brush a sweaty strand of hair from his forehead. “You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of how hard you’re working.”
“Thanks. Kade says if I keep practicing like this, I’ll definitely be ready for tryouts,” he says, his eyes shining.
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I assure him, admiring his hope and determination. “We’ll make sure you’re ready.”
And I’ll try to figure out a way to pay for it…
Chapter Thirteen
Kade
“And any time you guys want to come to a Glaciers game, just let me know. I can get you great seats, free of charge.” I grin as Colton tears into a slice of cheese pizza, his appetite reminding me of my own as a kid—and now as well. I could eat a whole pizza and never think twice about it. That’s just one of the pros of burning so many calories every day. However, as my eyes cast to Ella, who’s staring down at heroneslice of pepperoni pizza, something feels off.
“Are you not hungry?” I try to play it cool as I ask. This was supposed to be a celebration—Colton nailed some complex footwork today, and I suggested pizza as a reward. I expected Ella to be excited, but instead, she’s been oddly quiet since we left the rink.
She shakes her head. “I had a big lunch at school today.”
I purse my lips, not buying one word of what she’s saying. I know Ella. Well, Iusedto know her. And back then, it was easy to tell when something was off, because she’d do that exact same zoning-out spell.
“I can’twaitto tell Aaron I’m trying out for spring hockey with him,” Colton says around a mouthful of pizza. “I know that I might not make it since this is my first year, but—”
“You’re good enough to make it,” I say with confidence. I don’t say it just to hype him up, either. I mean it. Colton has natural talent, and has surpassed most kids who have been doing the sport for years.
