Page 12 of Pieces of Us
“Leaving brunch with the girls. I can swing by wherever you are and drop it off.”
“I’m at the arena. Can you stop here?”
“Will there be hockey players?” I hear a playful tone in her voice.
“Maybe, but you’re not allowed to talk to them.”
“That’s rude! Why can’t I talk to them?”
“Just the rules. They’re very busy.” I mirror her tone.
“Well, that’s boring. I guess I can be there in about twenty minutes. Will that work?”
“Yeah, just come down to the ice when you get here.”
“Okay. See you in a few.”
She disconnects the call, so I head back to the ice. Watching the kids always brings a smile to my face. At around six or seven, they have big personalities, but are still working on their skills. While easily distracted and a bit wobbly on their skates, their determination is awesome, and I like helping them.
I’ve always loved kids. A lot of guys like me wouldn’t admit it, but I just think they’re cute and they say some of the craziest shit. When I think about the future, I want children and a rambunctious household. Saturday morning breakfasts, evenings filled with family dinners and homework, maybe one—or three—who I could coach their baseball or hockey team. I alsoimagine a wife who I have a lot of fun making those kids with. A wife that I greet every evening when I get home and that I spend lazy Sunday mornings with on the couch or in bed.
But that’s the future. In the present, I’ve earned the reputation of the guy who won’t settle down. And it would have been the truth over the past ten years. What people don’t realize now is that Melonie has been the only woman I’ve slept with in months. I’ve been out with a couple women, but after that night with Mel, the dates I’ve been on seem a bit dull. I haven’t told Jax or Marcus that; I can’t admit to them the hold that night has on me. Melonie is Audrey’s friend, and I don’t want them all to know I have a soft spot for her. And I admit that I don’t know if it was just the way that night felt or if it’s the fact it was with Melonie that upped my standards. Still trying to figure that out myself.
When I get back to my team, we all step out on the ice, so we’re ready to take pictures and record video for the team’s social media accounts. The players will be out in a bit, but right now, we get to capture the kids, all scrambling for the puck. I can’t help but laugh at the mayhem as I snap pictures.
I cautiously tread over the ice to the goalie. He hasn’t seen much action, but I want to make sure he feels included.
“Hey, bud, mind if I get some shots of you?”
“You want pictures of me?”
“Absolutely. Is that cool?”
“Yeah!”
“Awesome. Just do your thing and I’ll take some pictures, okay?”
“Okay, sir.”
“Don’t bother with that ‘sir’ business. Call me Linc.”
“Okay, Linc.”
I shuffle closer to the boards as he crouches down into position. The kids are finally coming closer to the goal from center ice, so I get some great shots of his game face.
As the action moves back to center, I yell over to him, “Great job, kid. I got some good ones!”
I see his eyes light up behind his mask. “Anytime, Linc!”
A whistle blows and the coach sets them up with passing drills and each member of the marketing team is assigned to a group so we can get material or help with the task. I head over to my assigned group, and as they’re waiting, one of the kids falls. He wasn’t even skating; he was just standing there. I smile and shake my head as I hold out my hand to help him up.
He looks up at me, cheeks pink. “Thanks.”
He might be a little embarrassed. “That’s what I’m here for.” I bend down to look him in the eye. “How long have you been skating?”
“I started last year.”
“You’re doing pretty awesome for just starting out.”
