Page 108 of Pucked Up Plans
“Okay. Thanks again.”
She turns away and jogs to catch up to Lennon. A small wave of guilt niggles me, but I remind myself Lennon enjoys ice time no matter who she’s with.
Kenny clears his throat from behind me. “She’ll be fine. And if she’s not, we know where to find you. Shall we?” He motions to the other side of the entryway toward the office.
Exhaling and hoping for the best, I agree to follow him.
The clinic is fun. The kids range in age from eight to about twelve. Some of them have never skated before, let alone played hockey, so that’s a bit of a hindrance. But there are about five other coaches, which is super helpful.
I sneak peeks at Lennon, who’s skating on the opposite side of the rink while we run drills, although “drills” is a very loose term. It’s more about getting the kids used to feeling comfortable on skates and making contact with the stick and puck. Lennon seems to behave for Liliana. It doesn’t escape my notice Liliana’s quite the skater. Guess it’s not too surprising given her dad’s career choice.
The clinic runs for two hours. I’m groomed for longer practices, but this one seems more exhausting. Mostly because I’m bent over more, holding the kids up, rather than skating hard. Different muscles than I’m used to using.
Once it’s over, the coach in charge gives a speech. A round of applause follows, started by one of the younger kids. It soon ripples through the rest of the group and after a few seconds, all of us in the rink are hooting, hollering, and cheering. Liliana and Lennon join us on the ice, clapping away.
Once the attendees have left the ice, I skate over to where Lennon is showing Liliana some trick she’s been working on—a two-footed jump about an inch off the ice. She must have taught herself because I didn’t.
“Hey,” Liliana says as I approach.
“Hi. Thanks for keeping an eye out for her.”
“Anytime. She’s got quite the personality. I sometimes questioned if I was talking to a child.” She laughs, a bright smile in my direction.
“She keeps me on my toes, but in a fun way.” Lennon skates over, using a T-stop before she barrels into me. “Right, Squirt?”
“Keeley, did you see my jump?”
“Sure did. Where did you learn that?”
“I just did it myself. I thought really hard about lifting my feet off the ice, and I jumped.”
Holding my hand out for a high five, I say, “Great perseverance. Did you eat your pancakes?”
“Yeah, but don’t think I’m not still mad you got to see Tate without me.”
“Of course I didn’t.” My sarcasm goes over her head this time. “Ready to be done?”
“Just one more jump. Be right back.”
She skates away without waiting for a response.
“I’m amazed at the way she skates so well. How long has she been skating?”
“I had her on skates as soon as she could walk, but she’s made strides the past year. It helps she loves it and never passes up an opportunity to practice.”
Liliana and I slowly skate toward the rink exit, one eye trained on Lennon. An awkward silence ensues.
In the stands, I slip off my skates and put my sneakers on. Lennon comes off the ice slightly out of breath.
“Oh, her stuff’s still up on the other side. Let me grab it.”
I’m about to tell her I’ll get it, but Liliana takes off before I get the chance.
“Did you behave?” Sitting on the bench, I loosen her laces and remove her skates before standing her on the bench to remove her snow pants.
“Yep,” she states, popping the p. “Liliana’s nice. And she’s super good at skating. Even better than Momma.” Her nose scrunches at her comment. “But don’t tell her. She’ll be mad.” She’s got her mother pegged.
It wasn’t hard to convert Megan into a skating and hockey fan. She learned early on in our relationship that if she wanted to see me, she’d find me at the rink. Better yet, she’d strap on her skates and join me on the ice for free skate. Her skills improved each time, but she likes to be the best, and skating is no exception.
