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As I fired shot after shot at Coach Dixon, it got me thinking about what she’d said the other day about not knowing he’d gotten the job with the team. It was none of my business, but that seemed a little strange, especially since Rory mentioned that her parents were still together, living in Cleveland.
Why the fuck wouldn’t he tell her he was about to start coaching hockey at her college?
He seemed like a good man. Eager to jump into the job—to offer a guiding hand to us players.
“Nice,” he called as my sixth and seventh shots sailed right past him. “Again, but this time come at me from the straight.”
I nodded, gliding toward the center line. Harper’s business with her father was just that. Hers. I’d made it pretty clear where we stood, and I had no intentions about changing my stance.
We weren’t friends.
That wasn’t about to change.
So I shoved all thoughts of Coach’s daughter out of my head and focused on a dream I knew would never be mine.
* * *
After my last class of the day, I headed for my car, hoping to beat the afternoon traffic. The plan was to get home, spend the evening with Scottie doing all his favorite things, and then crash early so I could head back to Lakeshore first thing.
I shoved my cell phone in the dash holster and fired up the engine. I didn’t expect it to ring the second I got on the road. And I didn’t expect to seeMomflashing across the screen.
I greeted her with, “I just left.”
“Oh, good. Do you think you can pick up Scottie from his group? They had to move over to a center in Rushton.”
“They did?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t remember if I mentioned it. I’m so stressed lately; I’d lose my head if it weren’t screwed on. Crap, Mase, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, Mom.” It wasn’t, but whatever. “Text me the address, and I’ll figure it out.”
“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver. Tony offered me some extra hours, and you know I can’t say no to extra hours.”
Another bolt of guilt rolled through me.
“Sure thing, Mom. We’ll see you later?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a visit from my eldest boy for anything. Maybe I can make us your favorite. Pierogies.”
“Sure.”
“Is everything okay, sweetheart? You sound a little deflated.”
“I’m good. Just tired. Early morning practice kicked my ass.”
“You can tell me all about it later. I’ll call the group leader and let them know you’ll be collecting Scottie instead of me.”
“Don’t forget to text me the address.”
I fucking hated that she had to work extra hours just to make ends meet. Even with the alimony, Mom struggled. If I was home, I could get a job and help out. But she wouldn’t hear of it.
Mom wanted me to go all the way. To chase my dreams and make something of myself.
But it wasn’t that simple.
Mom’s text came through, and I pulled over and quickly typed the address into my GPS. I knew she was between a rock and a hard place with work. She needed the money, but since she couldn’t rely on my old man to take care of Scottie, she had to organize a bunch of activities to keep him occupied whenever she picked up an extra shift.
Coach Dixon had a point. If I turned pro, I could give them a better life. Pay off the mortgage and give her the means to reduce her hours so that she could be around more for Scottie. Our neighbor, Mrs. Hancock, helped where she could since she was one of the few people Scottie would stay with without too much hassle.
