Page 103 of Beauty
Amusement and affection for this boy bubble up inside me. “I get that too.”
“Oh man, I was hoping I would grow out of it.”
Same, I want to tell him. I hoped I’d one day outgrow this infatuation with his father, yet here I am. And I have a feeling this is just the beginning.
Ollie isn’t quite as versed as Addie, though he still knows far more about hockey than I do. We eat nachos, then order ice cream sundaes, all while keeping our noses glued to the glass. He tells me all his favorite parts about attending games and how, when he’s at home, he begs his mom to let him stay up until they’re over. Sometimes he falls asleep in the middle, but Ted is great about showing him highlights in the morning.
From what I can tell, the three adults are incredible at the co-parenting thing. Though after Ollie explains his weekly schedule, I can’t help but wonder how hard it is for Noah when the two of them aren’t together.
Heading into the third period, the score is still 0-0, and I’m getting antsy.
What happens if neither team scores at the end of the game?
I should ask Ollie, but he’s just as keyed up as I am, and he’s totally locked into the action below us.
Maybe they go into overtime. Or do they end with a tie?
When War gets a hold of the puck and rushes toward the opposite end of the ice, I start to think I won’t have to ask. Aiden and Noah dart that way too, their skates digging deep as they go.
My heart pounds in my ears and my muscles all tense up as they close in on the net.
A Florida defenseman catches up to War, but before he can get too close, War passes the puck to Aiden.
My brother is like a ballerina out there. His movements are fluid and beautiful. His stick work—I think that’s the right term—is incredible. He slaps the puck back and forth, making it hard to follow.
I think that’s a good thing, because if I can’t tell where it is, then maybe the defenseman who’s on him now can’t either. Before the D-man and his counterpart can flank him, he slaps the puck to Noah, who I’ve only now realized has fallen back.
Noah hauls his stick back and brings it forward with enough force to send the puck across the ice and past the goalie’s left shoulder.
When it hits the back of the net and the light on top illuminates, the crowd goes wild. Ollie and I join in. Even the fans dressed in Orlando’s colors wear looks of awe as a replay appears on the Jumbotron. I can’t blame them. It’d be hard not to be impressed by that shot. He was practically at center ice.
“Yeah, Dad, yeah!” Ollie screams. “He’s a sniper, did you know that?”
I didn’t, and I don’t know what the term means, but I’ll wait and ask once his excitement has worn off.
Below, Noah circles the rink, looking up at the suite where we’re sitting. Then he flattens his hand over his heart.
Ollie goes even more berserk, bouncing around and mimicking the motion. “Dad does that for me every time.”
Noah’s slowed now, still focused on us, with his stick tucked beneath an arm now and his thumbs linked together. He splays his fingers out and flaps his hands twice.
“What’s that?” I ask.
Ollie frowns, his head tilted to one side. “It’s the sign for a butterfly, but I don’t know why he did it.”
“You know sign language?”
Suddenly, thatthump-thump-thumpfeeling Ollie mentioned earlier overtakes me. Play resumes quickly, yet I’m fixated on the butterfly sign Noah made after scoring the first goal of the game.
“Yup,” Ollie chirps. “Dad uses sign language during games so we can chat when I’m in the stands.”
My heart pummels my rib cage, making it hard to hear even the fans in the stands. But I ask, “How do you sign great job?”
He shows me, and after the puck has dropped, I practice it. Though my fingers itch to form the butterfly sign, my brain wars with itself, half certain Noah meant that as a message to me and half certain I’ve lost my mind.
The Bolts win 1-0, and as we leave the suite, I text Noah like promised. When we get down to the locker room, he’s waiting for us in the hall outside it, still in his hockey gear.
He’s a sweaty mess, but god, is he gorgeous. All chiseled cheekbones, blue eyes, messy hair, and muscles.
