“When you or your brother get mopey with teen angst, that’s what your mother calls it. You lurk around the house.”
My new positive outlook is a work in progress. “Okay, well I’m not a teenager now.”
He gives me his stern coach face when his players mouth off to him, thick brows pinched and laugh lines deepening when his lips thin. I sigh in resignation.
“It’s not a big deal. Things ended with Shawn. And before you go allDad mode,” I taunt. “It’s permanent.”
He frowns, then nudges the fries closer to me. He doesn’t have to say anything else and I appreciate him for it, accepting his brand of comfort in the form of quiet solidarity. I love Mom to pieces, but Dad is who I gravitate to more often when I’m pissed off or upset because he helps me cool my head down and sort out my thoughts on my own.
“What do you want for Christmas this year?” I raise a hand. “And please don’t say ‘whatever’.”
He closes his mouth, scratching his trimmed graying hair. “How about…anything?”
I melt in my chair. “Dad. That’s the same thing.”
A knock at the doorway interrupts. Cole leans in.
“Come sit.” Dad waves him in, gesturing to the open chair beside me.
Cole takes it, shooting me a wink and a lopsided smile. Rather than sprawl in his chair like he might when he’s at my family’s house, he sits up straight in front of Dad.
“We’re all wrapped up. Steve and I let them hit the showers. He said you wanted to see me?”
“Here, have some of this. We never finish the whole basket.”
Dad slides the large order of fries closer to the edge of the desk. Cole stretches across me to reach for some. Awareness of his proximity lights up my senses. I cross my legs when his heady forest scent fills my lungs. My lashes flutter and I duck my face to hide a blush.
“I volunteered you for ice skating lessons at the lake again this year,” Dad says.
My head pops up. “Again?”
Things at the bar slow down through the end of December into January while the college is on winter break. I planned to use the time to see if I could start a business at an onlinemarketplace like Etsy. I’ve been toying with the idea after watching some studio videos from other small businesses that sell their stickers and stationary designs. It would give me the chance to start out small and test the waters.
“You said you liked doing it last year.” His brows furrow. “Sorry, should I not have told Vic you would? I can call him back.”
“I did like it, but…”
I trail off, wondering if it’ll be a good way to keep myself busy. Then I don’t have to think about Shawn. Or—I hold still so I don’t look at Cole.
There will still be plenty of time for everything else I want to do. I don’t have to rush anything.
“Never mind. It’s fine. I promised Victor last year I’d do it. Don’t make him stress over who else would teach on short notice.”
Dad’s worried expression clears. “That’s good. And Cole will be with you.”
“What?” I blurt.
“I will?” he says at the same time in a strange tone.
“That’s why I called you in,” Dad explains. “The college partners with the owner of the public rink for a community program. It’s been in place for the last five years. You’re a good candidate to volunteer as an instructor with your background.”
“Oh. Won’t it cut into practice time?” Cole’s leg bounces for a moment before he stops it. “You won’t need me here for that?”
“Lessons are usually scheduled with that in mind,” I find myself saying. “You won’t miss anything. That’s how it’s always worked.”
The hint of tension loosens from his limbs and he smiles at me. It’s tinged with relief and something I can’t name. My stomach dips. I’m not used to seeing him like this. Some part of me recognizes the need for acceptance, I think.
Dad interrupts the moment with an encouraging hum. “Right. Vic’s an old friend and when he came to me with the idea of bringing our professional coaches and players out to revive interest in lessons, I agreed it was a good idea for our guys. It only lasts a handful of weeks through the winter, then you’ll be back to your usual duties here. Take any player with you, too.”
