He took a sip of his coffee before glancing out toward the ice.
"Truth is, I can't blame him. Running a place like this is rewarding, but it's a lot of work. The older I get, the more I notice that part."
"So what's going to happen to the rink?" Kieran asked.
Arthur shrugged. "It wouldn’t be tomorrow or next year. But probably sooner rather than later." His gaze swept across the rink. "I've been doing this a long time."
"You thinking about retiring?" Kieran asked.
Arthur's expression softened. "That's the question, isn't it?" The answer came easily enough, but something in his facesuggested he'd spent more than a few nights thinking about it. "I'd like to keep it in the community somehow. This place means a lot to people around here."
"You've built something pretty special here," I said.
A pleased smile crossed his face. "Thank you." His gaze shifted toward Kieran again. Then back to me. "You know, you were pretty patient out there."
"With him?"
"With beginners."
Kieran pointed at me. "To be fair, he spent half the lesson pretending I wasn't one fall away from breaking my neck."
"I did no such thing."
"You absolutely did."
Arthur laughed. "Maybe that's why you're good at it. You let people figure things out without making them feel foolish."
I wasn't sure what to say to that.
Arthur nodded toward the ice. "A lot of former players end up coaching. Running clinics. Working with kids. Keeping people connected to the game."
"Somebody has to."
"Exactly." Arthur grinned. "When I'm ready to retire, maybe I'll give you a call."
I nearly choked on my hot chocolate. "Pretty sure I'm not qualified."
"Neither was I when I started." The grin lingered for another second. "Besides, anybody who can convince a first-timer to leave the ice smiling can't be completely hopeless."
Mr. Griffin's comment lingered longer than I wanted to admit before the conversation drifted toward weather, holiday crowds, and the best bakery in town, which was ran by Mrs. Ruiz.
Eventually, Arthur excused himself to check on something inside the rink, leaving Kieran and me alone again. By then, thecrowd had thinned out. I got up and went to get us some more hot chocolate.
When I returned, Kieran received his with a grateful smile. Kieran leaned back in his chair and wrapped both hands around his cup. His cheeks were pink from the cold. A few strands of dark hair had escaped from beneath his beanie and curled across his forehead. The tip of his nose was red, and he looked thoroughly pleased with himself.
"I still can't believe I did that."
"You skated."
"I skated." His grin returned immediately. "Nobody can ever take that away from me now."
I laughed. "That seems dramatic."
"It is not." He pointed his cup at me. "This morning I could not skate."
"True."
"Tonight I can skate."
