“Oh, it’s okay!” The mom was beaming. “They’re so excited to meet you both, and I really appreciate you guys going to this much effort.” To her youngest, she said, “A.J., can you give him the jersey to sign?”
The boy gazed shyly up at Avery for a second. Then he thrust the jersey at him. “Can you sign it? Please?”
Avery seemed surprised, but he recovered quickly. “Sure. Of course.” He crouched and gave the kid a bright smile before he took the cap off the marker.
Then he paused, peering at the jersey. The kids and their mom exchanged uncertain looks.
Trying to keep the moment from getting awkward, I gave him a playful nudge with my foot. “A-V-E-R?—”
That did the trick. Avery burst out laughing and smacked my thigh with the back of his hand. “Shut up.” Then he carefully scrawled his autograph on the number.
I chuckled, relieved the tension was broken, and returned my attention to signing the other jersey.
After that, their mom asked if we minded doing photos, which of course we didn’t. We posed for a handful with thekids, who had huge smiles as they held up their newly signed jerseys.
As soon as the photos were done, one of the older boys looked at Avery. “Hey, do you know when you’ll be back?”
“Stephen!” their mom whispered. To Avery, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Avery said with his media smile in place, and he looked at the boy. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but I’m hoping it’ll be before the playoffs.”
Both of the older boys’ faces lit up.
“Yeah?” the oldest asked. “So you’ll be back this season?” He shoved his brother. “I told you!”
“Whatever!” The other kid shoved him back. “You didn’t know either.”
“Boys,” their mom growled.
Avery just chuckled. “I’ll be back this season.”
That seemed to make their day even more than the photos and the signed jerseys.
The kids peppered us both with questions, and then their mom told them it was time to go. To us, she said, “Thank you both. I think you just made their whole week.”
“Ours too,” I said, and I meant it.
That earned us another bright smile from Mom, and then she herded the kids out toward the parking lot.
When we were alone again in the lobby, Avery picked up his coffee and took a drink, but his expression was distant.
“You good?” I asked him. “When you took the jersey, you seemed a little…” I didn’t know how to describe it.
Avery gazed in the direction the family had gone. “I guess…” He chewed his lip. “I don’t know. It kind of blew my mind that she actually went and dropped almost three hundred bucks on a Caldwell jersey.”
“A Hall jersey too,” I said. “I don’t know if you noticed, but they were even more excited to see you than me.”
He stared at me with wide eyes.
“When you were in the locker room,” I said, “the little one looked like he was about to cry because he thought you’d left.”
Avery’s lips parted and his eyebrows climbed even higher. “He… He did?”
“Yeah.” I gave him a nudge. “You have fans, you know. A lot of them.”
“I…” He glanced toward the parking lot, then dropped his gaze. “I guess. I mean, know I had fans. But with me being out, and everybody knowing why…” He trailed off as some color rose in his cheeks.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re not going to bail on you because you needed help. Yeah, everyone knows you’re in the player assistance program, but they also know you lost someone really close to you.” I gave his shoulder a squeeze, then let him go. “They’ve got your back, same as we do.”
