“I really like it,” he says and then looks at me. “I like the ice the best,” he says, and I just nod at him.
“But in order to be faster on the ice, you need to do lots of stuff in the gym,” I say. “When I was your age, all I wanted to do was be on the ice, but my father forced me to go to the gym and made me use a jump rope.” I lean in to him. “I hated it,” I whisper, and he smiles and laughs.
“Did you do it?” he asks, and I nod.
“I had no choice. He wouldn’t let me on the ice unless I did it.” I see a car pulling up, and a woman climbs out of the back seat. She runs into the arena and looks around, the fear all on her face. You can see that she has been crying; her eyes and the tip of her nose are red.
“Mommy.” Dylan calls her name, and she runs over, her eyes looking at him and then at me. She looks a little shocked I’m still here.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, taking Dylan into her arms. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he says softly. She kisses his head and then leans back and takes his face in her hands. “Did you have fun?” She tries to hide the tears in her eyes.
“I was on the ice a lot,” he says, and then she looks over at me.
“I’m so sorry. My car died, and I had to get an Uber, and there was traffic,” she says and then gets up. “Thank you so much for sitting with him.”
“Not a problem, Caroline,” I say, and my heart starts to beat a bit faster. I want to pull her in for a hug, but instead, I put my hand in my pocket.
“Let’s go, buddy,” she says. Bending down and grabbing his camp bag, she puts it over one shoulder and then picks up the bag with the equipment.
“Do you want me to carry that?” I ask, and when she smiles at me, I see that the smile never reaches her eyes.
“No, thank you. You’ve done enough for the day,” she says politely. “Let’s go.” She holds out her hand, and Dylan grasps it and then looks at me.
“Bye, Justin,” he says, walking out with his mother. When I grab my stuff and walk out, I see that they are walking down the street. I get into my SUV and watch them walk to the corner and stand at the bus stop, and my stomach burns. I pull out and then stop the vehicle at the corner where they wait.
“What are you doing?” I ask, getting out of the car and walking to them.
“We have to take the bus because Mom’s car didn’t work,” Dylan says, and I look at Caroline, who looks like she wants the ground to open up and swallow her.
“Why don’t I give you guys a lift?” I offer, and she just shakes her head.
“No,” she says, standing tall. “It’s more than okay. It’s not that much of a ride.”
“Right,” I say, “but my mother would kick me in my a—” I stop myself from saying the word and then look down at Dylan. “Butt if she knew I didn’t drive you home. Not to mention, what my father would do to me.” I smile at her. “So technically, you would be saving me.”
“Do you still get time-outs?” Dylan asks, and we both laugh at him.
“Actually, you would be surprised,” I say, then I look at her. “Let me drive you home, please.”
“I don’t want you to go out of your way,” she says. “The bus should be here any minute.”
“I have nothing else planned, and I am just going to end up following the bus to make sure you get home safely, so it’s just easier if you let me take you.”
“You really don’t—” she starts to say, and I stop her.
“I know I don’t have to,” I say, and she looks at me, her eyes still a bit red, “but I want to.” I look down. “Let me take you and Dylan home, Caroline.”
“Okay,” she says softly. “If I’m honest, that would be really great.” She turns to walk to the SUV, but I stop her and take the bag from her shoulder. She just smiles at me shyly and tucks her falling hair behind her ear. She is a mother to one of your kids, I tell myself, so she could be someone’s wife. And just with that thought, I feel a sudden sense of loss, and I have no idea what is going on.
Chapter Four
Caroline
“He needs a booster seat, right?” Justin asks me when he opens the back door to his SUV. He goes to the trunk, taking one out, and my stomach sinks even more than it did before. I watch his arm muscles while he puts the bag in the trunk. His baseball cap hides the dark hair that I know he has because I may have googled him for one hot second when I left the arena. I don’t know hockey; I know nothing about hockey except that my kid loves to play it, and according to everyone around us, he’s really good at it. I also try to make sure he is at every practice and every game, but I didn’t know how expensive the equipment was, even when bought secondhand. He had to sit out a couple of games once because his skates were just too small for him. I kept going back to the secondhand shop, hoping they would get a pair in his size. Luckily, the coach came through with a secondhand pair that I could buy.
“Let’s get you in,” Justin tells Dylan, who grabs his hand and gets into the SUV. He buckles him up like an expert. I stand here, not sure what to do or where to go when he shuts the door and looks at me. His brown eyes are a bit darker than they were this morning, and I avoid them when he starts to really look at me. The phone beeps in his pocket, and he takes it out and types something back and then looks at me. “Do you want to give me your address so I can plug it in?”
“Um, yeah,” I say, giving him the address, and he types it in.
“That’s almost an hour from here,” he says, and his tone is tight. I suddenly just want to grab Dylan from the back seat and go about my way. I’ve had the worst day so far. My car finally died, and no amount of praying and cursing would bring it back to life. One of the workers at the office looked at it, and he just shook his head. I had to borrow Amy’s Uber account to get here. She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, but she has her own issues. I know that money is tight for her, too, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“I understand if you can’t take us,” I say, trying to keep my hands from shaking by crossing them together.
“How long would it have taken you to get home on the bus?” he asks, and I don’t know where he is going with these questions.
“I’m not sure. Probably longer than an hour,” I answer him. I don’t even dare tell him that I would have to take two buses. Something that we will have to do tomorrow also. We are going to have to be out of the house by six to make it here by eight, and I’ve already arranged a lift with another co-worker who will pick me up at the arena on her way to work.
“He’s had a long day,” he says. “He was on the ice for over three hours.” I look at him, expecting him to say more except he doesn’t. He gets into the driver’s seat, and I stand here, wondering what he was actually getting at. I walk around the passenger side and get into the front seat. The car has a new car smell, a smell I recognize from when my parents got a new car right before I left home.