Instead, when I get in position and hold out my hand to her, she puts one little white skate onto the ice, gripping my hand with one of her own and the board with the other.
At the feel of her tiny mittened hand in mine, the gravity of this moment hits me. I peer over at JJ. He’s got his phone out, already recording. When he catches me looking, he gives me the warmest smile he’s probably ever shot my way. His eyes are so blue and happy, they make my heart skip.
I force myself to focus on Avery, who, like most kids when they step onto the ice for the first time, slips. She catches herself, throwing her tiny body forward, and I hang on tight, making sure she doesn’t go down.
“Look at that,” I cheer as I guide her upright again. “You’re on the ice.”
Her focus remains on her feet, her expression serious. “Now what?”
“March,” I remind her. I’ve taught plenty of kids how to skate, and this is how we start.Once she’s steadier, we’ll work on gliding and shuffling.
She tries, and her legs almost go out from under her tiny body, but I catch her before she goes down.
“How ’bout you hold both my hands?”
She nibbles on her lip, brows furrowed in determination. “Okay.”
Skating backward, I guide her slowly, mostly pulling her along. JJ follows, camera aimed at Avery, beaming.
He looks at her the same way Beckett has always looked at me. Not just when my skills have impressed him, either. Or when I’ve been recognized for my talent. He’s been there for all the little things. Hell, Beckett isn’t even a big fan of hockey. Yet he taught me how to skate. He came to every game that didn’t coincide with his team’s schedule. And he always,always,made sure that I knew how proud he was of me.
That’s the thing about men like JJ and Beckett. They’re proud of their children for who they are, not what they can do. Early on, when I’d tumble on the ice, my dad would smile and make an encouraging comment. And I have no doubt JJ would do the same for Avery.
But she doesn’t fall. And as we go around the rink for a third time, she gets a little more daring. “Can I try it myself?”
I glance at JJ. “What do you think? Is she ready?”
He bends at the knees so he’s at her level and skates by. “She’s a Hanson. She was born ready.”
Despite his statement, he gets in front of her so he can catch her if she goes down. But he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. God, he’s good.
“Okay, Avey girl. Let’s try this.” I drop one of her hands.
With her other hand, she squeezes tighter, her little body wobbling as she struggles to stay up.
“You’ve got this,” I tell her. “Just march those feet.”
With a deep breath, she releases me, and then she glides forward. “Oh,” she squeals. “Daddy, I’m skating!”
She makes it four entire steps before she falls forward.
JJ is right there, catching her, lifting her and zooming around, making her fly like an airplane, as if that was his plan all along. “Yeah you are.”
“Did you see that, Addie?” she yells.
I laugh. “I did. You were great.”
As they glide back my way, her smile is wide. Mine is too, if the ache in my cheeks is any indication.
“Can we get ice cream to celebrate?”she asks as they slow.
Chuckling, JJ heads for the bench. “After dinner.”
“Oh man,” she whines, still in his arms. “I worked so hard. I was hoping you’d feel bad for me and I could have ice cream.”
A full laugh rumbles out of JJ as he sets her down. “I don’t feel bad for you at all. You just skated.”
She zeroes in on me as I catch up to them. “Can Addie come for ice cream too?”
