Page 13 of Moms of Mayhem
Pulling apart the cheap blinds, I squinted through the dirty glass at the fresh snow that had fallen over the weekend. It sat heavy on the evergreens surrounding our property, painting the peaks behind in white.
Plans to go see Mom in the hospital were trashed when the snow had closed Vail Pass for two days, locking us all in place. So, I’d spent the weekend on the phone with the Yeti’s team administration, my training staff, and every doctor involved in my recovery to figure out how I could manage to be here for my mom this weekandnot mess up my recovery to be back by March in time for the end of the season and be ready for playoffs.
I wasn’t sure what I expected to find outside, but a kid skating around my pond by himself wasn’t on the list. I leaned against the windowsill, the glass cold against my bare arm, and watched him set up cones, then push a net out onto the pond. Snow was piled three feet high all the way around the ice, a giant mound separating it from the trees and mountains behind.
A shovel rested on top of the heap, and I glanced back at the kid, my head tilting to look for anyone else out there. A bike with fat snow tires rested in my cleared driveway, but I hired a service to handle that for Mom every time there was a snowstorm. However, I did not pay them to make a path to the pond, and I sure as shit didn’t pay them to clean off the ice.
I let out a low whistle, staring down at the shovel-wide path this kid must have done himself to get to the pond before he could even begin to clear itoff.
“Damn, son,” I said aloud, my voice gravely with sleep but full of awe.
Shoveling snow was a hell of a workout, and that was without riding abikein thesnowhere. Add the way he was moving around my backyard with a comfortable familiarity to tell me this was certainly not his first time out here? This kid was something else.
I wasn’t mad he was trespassing. Hell, I was glad it got some use. Anyone willing to put in this much work for some free ice time deserved it.
Once everything was set up the way the kid wanted it, he sat on the stump Ty and I had left for exactly that reason, tightened his laces, then pulled out a phone from his pocket, fiddling with the screen until the song switched toEnter Sandman. His head bobbed along to the Metallica song for a few seconds, then he pulled on a pair of hockey gloves and hopped on his skates, flying across the ice in a warmup.
My phone vibrated on the nightstand nearby, but I ignored it, arms crossed over my chest as I watched the kid move. He was quick, skating laps around the outside of my little pond, before switching and doing it all backward. His stick dragged across the ice as he moved, then eventually grabbed a puck from the pile he’d dropped in the middle of the makeshift rink.
With quick flicks of his wrist, he pulled the puck back and forth between the cones, holding perfect control of it before launching it into the top right corner of the net. Over and over, he did the same moves, hitting different invisible targets, and I watched with rapt attention.
I hadn’t seen Ty’s nephew without a helmet at the game, but I could tell by the way he moved, this was the same kid. Emmy’s son.
The last time I’d even seen Emmy, she was a freshman in high school—the same age as her kid down there on the ice. Fuck, that was a weird thought. Then, she’d just gone through a huge growth spurt, all gangly legs and braces. She had a penchant for oversized 90’s country band tees and an obsession with everything peach, right down to the color she constantly painted her fingernails.
With her so close in age to Ty and me, our friend groups crossed often, but she was perpetually my best friend’s little sister. I’d never seen her as anything but a target for our stupid teenage pranks just to hear her fiery comebacks, so it was hard for me to reconcile that version of her with the one I’d seen at the rink on Friday night.
That one had been full of the same sassy soul I remembered, but I didnotremember the curves she had on her. No, those were new, as were the not-so-PG thoughts about my best friend’s little sister. After everything Ty had done for me, that was the last place my mind needed to go.
I cleared my throat, looking back down at the ice at Emmy’s son. Like his mom, he had brown hair that seemed to catch the sunlight, glowing with a golden hue where it peeked out from under his green Mayhem hat. Here in my bedroom preserved in time, it was easy to picture Ty, Mason, and I out there instead of him, a snapshot of a past that seemed so very long ago.
My phone buzzed again, and I hopped across my bedroom to retrieve it, not so much wanting to talk to whoever was trying to get ahold of me, but desperate for a connection to my long-lost friend again.
When Ty’s name popped up on the screen, I grinned. Maybe he was thinking the same, too.
Ty
Motion sensors are going off at your pond. You home?
Ty
Shit. Jace skipped school again, didn’t he?
I glanced back out the window at the kid circling the ice, his face shuttered of all emotion except for sheer focus.
Beckett
He’s here. Guessing he’s not supposed to be?
Ty
That sneaky fucker. I’ll come get him.
Beckett
I’ll handle it.
Ty
