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It’s my turn to smile wide.
His hand reaches out and takes mine, and then he leads us down to where the ice meets the concrete.
“Hey, Slate!” A small group of boys scream as they skate closer to where we are. “You playing with us today?”
“No, bud. Can’t do today.” One of the little boys pouts at his words. “But I have someone I want you all to meet. This is Cassidy. My girlfriend.”
I think my heart explodes with the reference. In the past, when he’s referred to me as such, it’s always left a bad taste in my mouth. The lies made me feel like I was choking on it.
But now, in the fresh light of the day, and the fact that he now knows I’m Pip, I feel elated at the moniker. Today, it feels like anything is possible. Like this isn’t some sham. He chooses me. Cassidy.
“And what’s your name?”
“I’m Sam,” the little boy responds, holding up his hand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sam.”
One by one, each child comes over and introduces themselves to me, and then when there are no kids left, Aiden orders them to do drills.
I can’t help but laugh when he does. He’s such a natural coach. Yes, he’s controlling, but his voice is so filled with love and serenity that the kids thrive under his guidance.
He’s exactly the person he needed all those years ago.
He didn’t have that. Sure, eventually he had the coach that pushed him, but by then he was a teen.
At this age, Aiden had to teach himself how to skate.
He had no one.
What he’s giving these kids is priceless.
And if my heart wasn’t filled with love already for this wonderfully complicated man, it’s now bubbling over.
I watch as the kids skate, leaving Aiden to talk to an older man, maybe in his late fifties.
These little kids are naturals, skating with ease. More importantly, you can tell they love the game. Live for it.
Just like Aiden.
Finally, I pull my eyes away from the game and find Aiden and the man making their way toward me.
“Cass, I want you to meet Coach Joseph. Joe, this is my girl, Cassidy.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, extending my hand so we can shake.
“Nice to meet you too. Happy to see Slate happy.” His words are filled with fatherly love. Like he genuinely cares for Aiden. I immediately like the man.
“How long has this facility been open?” I ask, trying to make conversation.
The coach’s eyes widen, and Aiden inclines his head down. “I told Cass my involvement.”
He looks over at me and then back at Aiden. “I can speak freely?”
Aiden nods and says, “Yep.”
“That’s a change.” The older man grins, turning back toward me. “The ice rink and youth group have been around for the last six years. Give or take.”
I mentally do the math. Like my deposits, Aiden started this shortly after being drafted to the Saints.
