Page 2 of Hockey Nanny

I suppressed a grimace. “God, not you too.”

“He has a point,” Gage sidestepped another child who came skating past, surprisingly quick on their feet. “Remind me again, why do I have to be present for this event?”

“Raising funds for the orphanage wasyouridea.” I shot out an arm to catch another tottering child who came careening after the first one.

The kid was seconds from toppling over, and I helped him find his balance, setting him back on his feet. “Whoa there! Slow down, little man. That was almost a wipeout.”

He was smaller than the zippy one and significantly less skilled on the ice. He blinked up at me with wide blue eyes, a shaggy mop of ginger hair overflowing under his helmet. When the kid did nothing but stare at the two of us, Gage cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m gonna… leave,” he muttered abruptly, backing away like the poor kid was contagious.

Typical. Gage was an exceptional hockey player, and our best, boldest offense. Unfortunately, he was absolutely useless in any kind of social interaction.

He skated away like someone had lit a fire under his heels, and then it was just me. Me… and the kid. The same kid who was still looking up at me with a wide-eyed expression of awe that I had no idea what to do with.

I shifted awkwardly from one skate to the other. “Uh… You okay?”

He blinked back at me. “I’m Henry.”

“Hi, Henry. I’m Dawson.” I let out a nervous chuckle.

We stood there for a second, in painfully awkward silence. Or maybe it was only painful for me. Kids didn’t seem to be all that aware of the same social cues that made life so difficultfor adults, and Henry seemed perfectly content to keep up the staring contest, precariously balanced on his rental skates.

Eventually, I shook my head and crouched down so we were eye to eye. Henry shrank back shyly, breaking his level stare to look down at his feet. He couldn’t have been older than six or seven.

So young and already the world had taken so much from him. I didn’t know what happened to his parents, whether they simply gave him up or… worse, but I did know that he was an orphan, the same as every other kid at that event. It seemed too heavy a title to attribute to someone so small, so innocent.

“So, Henry.” I cracked a smile that I hoped was good enough to hide everything going on in my head. “Want some skating tips so you can keep up with your friend back there?”

The kid beamed so brightly at that you’d think I’d offered him a trip to space. He nodded and clasped a small, chilly hand around mine as I led him to a vacant corner of the rink. The going was slow, and it took more than a few tries before Henry got the hang of moving forward while keeping his feet steadily beneath him. But he was learning.

“You’re doing great!” I inched backward, holding both his hands, and he shuffled after me with his face furrowed in intense concentration. “Keep your knees bent. Look where you wanna go, not at your toes. You’re not gonna lose them.”

Henry obediently lifted his gaze. Every time he wobbled, it was accompanied by a yelp, and I steadied him by his elbows until he righted himself again.

We practiced for a while, one slow loop after another, until Henry had gained enough confidence to release one of my hands. He hobbled along beside me, struggling to gainmomentum but clearly having the time of his life if his pink face and mile-wide smile were anything to go by.

He was just getting comfortable with the repetitive motion, gingerly attempting to strike out on his own, when Boone came whizzing past with another shrieking kid tucked between his knees.

My brother was moving entirely too fast considering the crowded arena, but neither he nor the grinning child seemed to care. The little girl stuck her arms out like she was flying, and Boone zoomed across the ice. He flashed Henry a wink on his way past, and the boy looked thrilled.

“Can we do that!? Go fast?” The kid turned wide, wild eyes on me, jittering with excitement. I hesitated just long enough to consider the dangers, but Henry tacked on a “please” at the end, and I couldn’t possibly turn him down.

“Alright, come on,” I relented, gripping the tiny boy under his arms and positioning him in front of me, “But remember, keep your knees locked and your feet under you.”

Henry already had his arms out Superman-style, and he gave a brave nod as he braced himself. I made a mental note to take this up with Boone later, then pushed off.

We gained momentum quickly, surging across the ice, ducking and weaving through the clusters of wary skaters. Henry’s thrilled cry rose to a shriek, and he waved to a few of his flabbergasted friends as we breezed by. The sound of his laughter echoed behind us, and before I knew it, I was smiling too.

The kids' excitement was infectious, and soon we were neck-and-neck with Boone and his little buddy, all four of us skating a wide loop around the rink. When we finally slowed to a halt,Henry was flushed and breathless, rocking in his skates and chattering at the top of his lungs.

“That wasamazing!”

“Yeah?” I was a little breathless myself, something I hoped a few training sessions would fix. “Glad you liked it. My knees sure didn’t.”

But maybe it wasn’t that the off-season had left me a little out of practice; something told me my heart had begun racing, and my breath sped up the moment Henry looked genuinely happy. I wasn’t unfit. I was having fun.

That suspicion was confirmed when the kid abruptly latched onto my hip, hugging me with his noodle arms and speaking words that hit me like a gut-punch, knocking the air right out of my lungs: