Page 182 of On His Team

“Cool.” He keeps going.

I laugh.

There are still about two hundred pounds of gear that need to be put somewhere before one. The registration tables have to come down. Trash needs to be collected. The sponsor materials need to be stored. But the event is over. Actually over.

Ives finds me near the office. She closes her folder. “How do you think it went?”

I stare at her. “Are you asking me because you know the answer?”

“I’m asking because I want your answer.”

I look through the glass toward the empty rink. “Good.”

She waits.

I sigh. “Really good.”

“What didn’t work?”

“The jersey sizing.” I nod. “Volunteer overlap could’ve been better. I needed one more person floating at the beginning. The photo block was too short.”

“What worked?”

I think. “Most of it.”

She smiles. “That’s generally what you’re looking for.”

I breathe out.

She tells me we’ll debrief in class, then leaves before I can decide whether I want her to say more.

I find Rowan sitting on the boards near the gate. He’s alone now. Mackey is in the stands looking at his phone. Rowan’s empty coffee cup is beside him.

I stop in front of him. “You’re still here.”

“Yeah.”

I look up at Mackey. “You have a game.”

He shrugs. “Tonight.”

I stare at him and then climb onto the boards beside him. The second I sit down, my body registers that I have been standing for approximately seven thousand hours.

“Oh my God.”

Rowan looks at me.

I explain, “I have been awake since four. Eleven jerseys were too big. Deb was late. Two children showed up in figure skates.” I turn toward him. “The mother of a child named Bryce asked me at eight-fifteen if her son could have a different-colored jersey. I told her no. She asked again at nine.”

Rowan chuckles.

“I’m serious. I wanted to ask her where she thought I was hiding the secret second set of forty-eight jerseys.”

“Should’ve.”

“I almost did.”

He looks out at the empty ice. “But you did it.”