Roman walks in with me, and I’m aware of people noticing. The staff. A few players lingering in the hallway. Roman Varga doesn’t usually show up mid-afternoon on a practice day.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yeah. Just strange being back.”
“Want me to stay or?—”
“You can go. I’m fine.”
He studies my face for a moment, then nods. “Text me later.”
“I will.”
He leaves and I stand there in the empty hallway for a moment, trying to remember how to be Dr. Walker instead of a daughter whose mom is dying.
I find Rodriguez and Almardon in the gym wherethey’re supposed to be doing cooldown stretches. Instead they’re both at the window.
Rodriguez lets out a low whistle as a figure passes by outside.
“There goes the ice queen,” Rodriguez says, still watching where the woman disappeared.
“Who?”
“That figure skater. Juliette something.” He turns, sees me, grins. “She’s been practicing here the last few weeks.”
“And you’re calling her the ice queen because...?”
“Because she’s cold, Doc. Ice cold.” He flops onto a mat. “I tried talking to her last week. Very polite. Very charming. Asked about her skating.”
“And?”
“And she looked at me like I was something stuck to her shoe and walked away.”
Almardon snorts. “You asked if she could do a triple axel.”
“That’s a legitimate skating question!”
“You don’t know what a triple axel is.”
“I know it’s impressive. That’s enough.” Rodriguez looks at me. “Have you met her?”
“No. Should I have?”
“Probably. She’s been using the PT room for her ankle. Usually when Jake’s here.” He’s still got that grin, but there’s something else underneath it. Not just attraction—actual interest. “She’s really pretty. And she knows it.”
“So naturally you had to hit on her.”
“I didn’t hit on her. I made conversation. There’s a difference.”
“There really isn’t,” Almardon says.
“There is! I was being friendly.” He tosses a foam roller at Almardon. “We share a facility. It’s called being polite.”
“It’s called shooting your shot and missing,” Almardon corrects. “Badly.”
I watch them bicker and can’t help but laugh. Three days of sitting in that hospice room watching Mom fade, and here’sRodriguez getting rejected by a figure skater and Almardon giving him shit about it.
It’s stupid. Meaningless. Exactly what I need.
