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“Thanks.” A slight smile played on his lips as he reached across the table for my hand. “Today’s been great, but last night was extraordinary. I’m glad we took the time to hang out, talk, and, you know…”
I barely heard him since I was fixated on his hand on mine. He’d done that so many times today and didn’t seem to care if anyone saw. I liked not hiding what might be happening, even if it would get us featured in Maplewood Matters. “Yeah. It was one of the most perfect nights I’ve had.”
Ingrid arrived with our fries and drinks, and we reluctantly separated our hands to make room for the generous portion. The combination of crispy fries, maple-glazed bacon, and melted cheese made my stomach rumble.
“So,” Ethan said between bites, “I briefly ran into Wade and they said the live stream numbers were more than expected.”
“Very much so. We were going to be happy if we just had a hundred viewers.” I paused to pull out my phone to refer to the info Wade had sent. “The opening ceremony had more than 10,000 views, peaking during your speech. The panels had between 3,500 and 4,000 each.”
“Oh wow. Glad I didn’t think about how many people could be watching.”
“Your team had something to do with that because there was a post on the Riptide’s social feeds about fifteen minutes before we started.”
“I didn’t know they did that.”
“And the comments we’ve been getting…” I scrolled a bit in Wade’s email. “Some of them are crap that the team’s deleted, but so many messages about people being inspired about it and glad the team shared it.” I set the phone on the table, screen down. “I’m so glad Wade made it work.”
Our burgers arrived, looking scrumptious as maple-candied onions spilled over the edges. We fell into comfortable silence for a few bites.
“Can I ask you something?” Ethan set down his burger, his expression turned serious. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”
The question caught me off guard, but I also appreciated his interest. “Honestly? I’ve thought about that a lot lately. I love the library, love what we’re doing here. And the idea of the summer camp—” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “I want to make a difference, you know? Create spaces where kids can be themselves, find their community.”
“But?”
He knew me well enough already to realize I had more.
“Sometimes I wonder if I should be looking at bigger opportunities, different cities?” I met his eyes. “Basically, I don’t know what the next five look like. There are things I want to accomplish, but I’m not sure what that turns into. What about you?”
“I’ve got a few good years left playing if I’m lucky. Is it five?” He shrugged. “After that, I want to coach. Not just summer camps but develop young players full time. And I want to do it here, or at least near here.” He gestured around us. “Maplewood’s home and I’d like to be closer to it.”
The certainty in his voice made my heart skip. “You’ve really thought about this.”
“I have.” His fingers intertwined with mine across the table. “Buying what I hope is my forever home.” He dropped his voice a bit. “Plus reconnecting with you, seeing how passionate you are about your work. It’s made me think about what I want my legacy to be.”
“Besides an impressive NHL career?”
He laughed softly. “The game is only a part of it. I’d like to be known more for what I do after.”
My heart swelled at his words. The idea of him planting roots here, of creating something meaningful beyond hockey resonated.
I pushed my leg into his under the table. “Aren’t you already doing it? Every time you connect with those kids, show them they can be both an athlete and authentically themselves, you’re building something that will last far beyond your playing career.”
He nodded, pulling back to meet my eyes. “Here’s to the future and whatever we do to realize those aspirations.”
He raised his shake glass and I tapped it with my iced tea before we each took a big drink for the future.
TWENTY-ONE
ETHAN
The theater buzzed with excitement as people found their seats for the evening’s dance program.
Where yesterday had been mostly about the festival, today had been a full day of camp. With the exhibition game tomorrow, coaches and campers had focused on that.
I’d seen Andre briefly as I met him and Wade to talk about streaming for the game, but that was it. We’d maintained a steady text stream, though. Every time the phone buzzed, I was eager to get to it because I knew it was probably him.
I’d saved Andre a seat between Dixon and me. Dixon was currently engaged in animated conversation with Cole and Miles, who were sitting in front of us, and the three of them were dissecting today’s ice time.
