Page 13 of Forecheck
@Brent22Jean: So what’d you have in mind for this “group hang”?
@LexieMonroe: Idk…some sort of party?
@Brent22Jean: We can’t exactly be seen partying in public in season but…
@LexieMonroe: But what?
@Brent22Jean: I might have an idea. I’ll get back to you.
@LexieMonroe: *saluting emoji*
The beginning of hockey season was always busy. Getting back into a routine, no matter how many times I’d done it, took some adjustments. And being balls deep in season meant participating in a lot of press-centric activities the franchise forced on me.
Today, some of the guys and I were at an adoption/fundraising event for one of the local animal shelters. We’d set up shop under a tent at the edge of Grand Circus Dog Park. The agenda was pretty straightforward. We’d be signing autographs, taking photos with kids and anyone who adopted animals, and auctioning off some memorabilia. The Warriors were also covering the adoption fees for all pets taken to a forever home today, and all proceeds would go to the animal shelter.
Personally, I loved animals. Growing up, my family had always had dogs, and I missed having a pet. Unfortunately, my lifestyle wasn’t exactly conducive to keeping an animal alive andentertained. Maybe when I finally had a family of my own, I’d be able to get one again.
I also loved kids, and I genuinely couldn’t wait to be a father one day.
A little blond boy approached the table, a woman who I could only assume was his mother trailing behind him. The boy couldn’t have been more than five, with bright blue eyes and chubby cheeks tinged pink from the autumnal chill. He wore a miniature version of my jersey and a Warriors beanie on his head.
“Go on, honey,” his mom said when he stalled his approach. “Ask him.”
“Hi, Mr. Jean,” the boy said, his voice high and clear.
I came around the table to kneel in front of him. “Hello,” I said with a smile. “What’s your name?”
“Brayden.”
“Nice to meet you, Brayden. What can I do for you?”
Brayden stared up at me, his eyes shining with excitement. “Would you please sign my jersey?”
I turned to the table behind me and reached for a navy blue Sharpie. “I sure can, buddy. What would you like me to say?”
Brayden brought his tiny hand up to his mouth and tapped his lips in a gesture that made him appear much older. His mother beamed down at him. “Will you write ‘to my friend Brayden’ and sign your name?”
My lips curved upward. “Absolutely! Turn around.”
The little boy dutifully obeyed, turning to present me with his back. Right above the block letters spelling JEAN at the top, I wrote out my message. When I finished, signing my name with a flourish and a scribbled “#22” beside it, I tapped Brayden on the shoulder. “All done!”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Jean!” Brayden turned to his mom and grabbed her hand. I stood and offered mine.
“Brent Jean.”
“Leslie,” she said, grasping my hand with her free one, seeming a bit star struck.
“Are you and Brayden hoping to adopt today?”
“We are. I’m letting Brayden pick one out.”
“Well, let’s go check them out then!”
Brayden led the way, running over to the pen where all the dogs were kept. He wasn’t tall enough to see over the top of the fence, so he stood with his face pressed against it, peering through the holes in the chain link.
“His father recently passed,” Leslie said suddenly. “That’s why we’re getting a dog. It’s too quiet without James around.”
The woman’s voice broke on her husband’s name, and I offered what I hoped was a reassuring smile. I couldn’t imagine the hell these two had endured since his loss. My heart squeezed at the thought of this little boy growing up without his father. I’d been beyond blessed in that department; my father was both loving and nurturing while practical and tough when necessary. “I am so sorry for your loss. How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking.”
