I forced a smile, “Ahh, I don’t know Jen, I think I’m just small-boned. But I better go sign Canyon up then.”
“Yes! Go do it now,” she urged.
I stood up and walked past her. She always called attention to my looks and made me feel awkward. She was probably just insecure, but her insecurity had a way of making me feel insecure… Half the time I felt she wasn’t even the same species as me- she had about a foot of height on me. Kevin always called her the Ex-Volleyballer, a nod to her tall, blonde figure. I would just internally roll my eyes every time. He had a habit of looking at other women.
She did seem to be looking out for Canyon though. Probably just because she could pawn her kid off and rely on me to take him to all the practices if they were on the same team.
I really was kind of in shock about the importance of putting his name down on the sheet though. Our kids were eight, how was money already a factor? But just because I was questioning it didn’t stop me from making my way back to the lobby to make sure his name was on the right sheet. I didn’t want Canyon’s disappointment, or Kevin’s, to be my fault.
I entered the Ice League’s huge lobby, which was the warmer inside area that connected the east and west rinks, and housed picnic tables, arcade games, a concession stand, and a tiny bar. I made my way to the front where the sign-in table was located. I somehow managed to walk right past it when I entered- probably because I was feeling some second-hand nerves for Canyon.
I leaned over the wobbly portable table to scribble Canyon’s name down, when I noticed a familiar name at the top of the sheet…
I immediately dropped the pen and altogether stop breathing.
I hadn’t seen that name in so long. Tears stung the back of my eyes, threatening to come forward and I felt a closing sensation in my throat. Jeez, I was a 31-year-old woman. Why would seeing a name make it feel like I’d just been hit by a truck? I needed to calm my breathing down before I gave myself a panic attack.
I hadn’t seen that name in so long. Not since the summer I turned 22 years old. Almost a decade ago.
Printed in all caps, I reread the name- Greyson Scott. Of course the writing looked rushed. All of his movements felt rushed and unrhythmic. The only time he smoothed out his actions was on the ice...I still had that handwriting somewhere in one of my boxes of old things... On sweet, but always slightly crude, birthday and Valentine’s Day cards, signed ‘Love you, Grey.’ I had that last name printed on half a dozen ratty, old sweatshirts put away somewhere in my garage. I wore that last name for so many years, and for the longest time I thought it’d be mine- something that, even a decade later, made me want to break down and cry.
I took in a shaky breath. I had to hold it together. It could’ve been a mistake, or maybe just a nod to him- he did play here as a kid, and he did end up playing a couple seasons in the NHL. But did this indicate he was coaching this team? Last I heard he was in Michigan…why would he move back here to Minnesota? To my hometown. Sure, he’d lived here through high school, but unlike him, I was here long before and long after. I had shown him all the ins and outs of this town…. Maybe it was some kind of joke…. Or could that really be him?
I got the answer a second later.
“Ju-ju!”
I shut my eyes, wincing at my old nickname and turning my head.
“Max,” I replied.
I waited a second, wondering if this would be a standoff or a nice blast from the past.
He chose the latter and walked toward me in his skates, swishing in his warm-up sweats with outstretched arms. His eyes flashed like those belonging to a little kid who had just gotten away with mischief, just like they always had. It was nice knowing that life hadn’t killed that playfulness within him.
“Bring it in, Juju! Last time I saw you we were college kids drunk on the ether of youth,” he laughed and leaned down to hug me. “You’re still so teeny tiny!”
The hug shocked me, and it took me a second to reciprocate. Good job Jules, make him think you’re a cold bitch, I thought.
“You’re on skates, not fair,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. Clearing my throat, I mentally tried to figure out how to ask what I really wanted to know.
“How are you? You’re coaching now?” I asked, trying to gauge his involvement with this team.
“I’m better now that you’re here,” he winked at me and tugged at the front of my hat, but his face turned more serious. “I’m in charge of a lot of the Ice League now. I was split between the rink in Brookdale and here for the last couple years. But now they’ve given me the run of it. Can you believe that? I’ve got an eye for talent!” he laughed. “Must be because I watched more than played during my time in the net with our winning team growing up, ya know? I’m managing all of the youth Griffin teams.”
While I’d practically grown up here skating, I had to remind myself that so had Max. And Grey. This place held so many memories for me… for us.
“You’ve got the personality for a coach,” I smiled at him. He really did, he was always pretty genuinely happy. I think I’d only seen him lose it one time when his girlfriend Paige threatened to leave him. And him losing it wasn’t violent, he sobbed like a baby- an aspect I had learned to appreciate in a man. But again, that was nearly nine years ago. It was amazing how he looked almost the exact same, hat still turned back, but just a few more wrinkles around the eyes, and a little more scruff.
He paused for a second and he eyed me with a suspicious smile, “You’re probably wondering about who’s coaching the ‘07’s though, aren’t you?”
I shrugged my shoulders and tried to fight the blush creeping into my face, “Uh… I-”
“It’s Grey’s team, and Smitty is assisting. In all honesty, Smitty and Ashlie- they’re married-” he said with an eye-roll, “and Paige- we’re not married- but they’re all going to be really happy to see you. Paige is probably going to go nuts over this-”
He must have noticed my panicked face.
“In a good way of course! We had some fun times, Ju-ju! Then we just didn’t hear from you. Cold turkey, Ju-ju.” He shook his head. “You broke our hearts, girl! We grew up together, you were part of the gang!”
