Another school year. Another season.
Jackson Westmore stapled the new hockey tryout schedule on the bulletin board outside of the gym at Glenwood Falls Elementary.
“Hey, Coach, ready for another championship?” his buddy and the school’s gym teacher, Darryl Sutton, said as he passed with a group of ten-year-olds returning from a warm-up run around the school track.
“You bet,” Jackson said, stopping one of the bigger boys. “As long as James is still planning to try out.”
The taller-than-average, skinny kid nodded.
“As long as he keeps his grades up,” Darryl—also the boy’s father—said.
“Yes, sir,” the boy said, disappearing inside the gym with the rest of the class.
Jackson sympathized. He knew what it was like to have a parent as a teacher. His mother had taught at the Glenwood High School for over twenty years. It sucked. He and his brothers couldn’t get away with anything. And then they’d catch shit at school and at home. His sister had had it easy, being the only non-troublemaker of the group.
“I hear the team is going co-ed this year,” Darryl said, glancing at the sign-up form where the announcement was posted.
“Yeah…We’ll see how it turns out. I’m not sure there are many eight- to ten-year-old girls who will be interested, but you never know,” he said with a shrug.
He was actually thrilled by the Junior Hockey League Association’s decision to make the Atom/Novice teams a co-ed division. So far in Glenwood Falls, they hadn’t had the funding for a girls league, and he knew one in particular who was dying to play. His niece, Taylor, had been on skates since before she could walk; with two uncles in the NHL and him coaching the local Junior team, it seemed only natural for her to be interested in the sport. She was ten, and this would be her last year to play on his team. He couldn’t wait to get her out there; she could skate and puck handle better than any boy he’d ever coached.
“I assume Taylor is guaranteed a spot?” Darryl asked.
Jackson grinned. “She’ll have to try out like everyone else, but I have a feeling the Glenwood Falls Lightning will have a new female defenseman this season.”
“Well, I’ve seen her play, so I’m all for it, but not everyone feels that way.”
Jackson frowned. “Who’s having an issue with it?”
Darryl lowered his voice. “James mentioned that some of the boys…and I suspect it’s the boys’ fathers’ words they’re repeating…are not as open-minded about this.”
He nodded slowly. Not everyone liked change. He knew that. He just hoped that once the team was finalized based on who could play the game, and not their gender, everyone with reservations would start to feel better. They were kids after all, and the Atom league was the place to have fun while learning the sport. They would start to be more competitive once the talented, promising players moved up to Peewee and then Bantam. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
Darryl looked past him down the hall, his expression changing. “Speaking of a heads-up…”
Oh no. He knew in his gut before he even turned around who would be standing there. He’d already heard the rumors she was back. Yet, nothing prepared him for the sight of Abby Jansen, dressed in a slim-fitting suit, her long blond hair loose around her shoulders, her three-inch heels clicking on the tiled floor, walking toward them.
In ten years, she hadn’t changed a bit.
And obviously neither had his feelings for her.
Damn.
* * *
Keep walking. Don’t stop. Just keep walking.
One expensive Gucci pump in front of the other…Shit. They were both staring at her. “Hi, guys,” Abigail said tightly, keeping her gaze on Darryl and ignoring the other man she’d gone to school with.
Wow—what an understated way to describe their relationship, she thought.
“Hi, Abby. How are you?” Darryl asked, looking uncomfortable as he glanced at his friend.
Jackson’s gaze was burning a hole through her forehead, but she plastered on the fake smile she’d perfected since news of her divorce had spread all over the country and continued to pretend he didn’t exist. “I’m great.” Okay, that might be stretching things a little, but she’d just gotten a job, so that counted for something. “How are things?”
“Good…still teaching phys ed.”
She nodded politely. He’d inherited the job from his own father when the older man had retired.
“Well…Better get back in there.” The awkward tension seemed to be making him squirm, and he opened the gym door and ducked inside. “Great to see you,” he said quickly, as the door shut.
Jackson’s panicky gaze left her just long enough to glance at his disappearing friend.
Leaving them alone together in the hallway.
She cleared her throat and waited for him to speak first. She had nothing to say to her soon to be ex-husband’s best friend, who’d never disguised the fact that he disliked her. All through high school, he’d treated her like the third wheel whenever the three of them went anywhere together. She’d even tried setting him up with countless friends, but he’d scared them all off with his jerkish I’m-better-than-everyone attitude. Obviously, he was still chasing them away. She’d heard he was single, and it couldn’t be his tall, dark, and handsome looks keeping the women at bay.
She hadn’t seen him in years, other than to peek over Dean’s shoulder sometimes when the two Skyped. He was taller than she remembered, towering over her, even in her heels, and his broad shoulders and chest revealed he was a lot more muscular than he looked on the computer screen. His midday five o’clock shadow seemed Photoshopped to perfection, and his square, strong jawline erased any trace of the boy she used to go to school with. All he and Dean ever talked about was hockey, and she often wondered if there were any other layers to the friendship besides a shared passion for the sport.
Obviously without hockey as the subject, the guy had little to talk about, she thought as she continued to wait for him to say something.
He stared at the floor, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.
Silence.
Okay then.
Moving around him, she continued down the hall.
His voice stopped her. “I don’t believe everything they’re saying about Dean in the papers.”
Neither had she, but actually seeing her husband in bed with two women was proof enough.
Of course she didn’t expect Jackson to see her side. Slowly, she turned back. “Believe what you want, Jackson. I really don’t care.”
He moved toward her and her spine stiffened. His light blue eyes were dark and judging. “Adultery? Abuse? Come on. We both know Dean is not that guy.”
She hadn’t believed him capable of the emotional and verbal abuse, either. That had changed the day she’d confronted him about pictures of him and a Dallas Stars cheerleader she’d seen on the front of a supermarket tabloid. He’d gone on the defensive, saying nasty things to make her believe she was the one at fault for even accusing him of anything. Paranoid, stupid, delusional…just some of the angry insults that played on repeat in her mind.
“I’m not having this conversation with you. Or any conversation.” They’d barely spoken before, why start now? “Glenwood Falls is big enough. I think we should be able to make these run-ins few and far between if we try hard enough.” Though, that might be harder now that she would be spending time at the school, which was right next door to the arena.
“Oh, believe me, I’ll try hard enough,” he said, his ice-cold stare making her shiver.
The sound of the lunch bell prevented her from saying anything more as instantly they were swarmed by groups of children heading toward the school cafeteria.
Her eyes skimmed the crowd for Dani. Spotting her coming toward them, Abigail smiled—for real for the first time that day. She waved a hand, relieved to have the perfect excuse to end the intense, uncomfortable conversation.
“Mom? What are you doing here?” Dani asked with a frown when she reached her.
Not exactly the warm greeting she’d been hoping for, but at least her daughter was speaking to her. That small victory was short-lived as she noticed Jackson still standing there watching them. Dani had never actually met Jackson, only saw him occasionally on the computer and in Facebook pics. And Abigail wasn’t about to make the introduction. If in nine years the two men hadn’t felt it necessary, neither did she.
“I came to talk to Principal Breen about a substitute teaching position,” she said, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
Dani shrugged away.
Her arm fell to her side. She knew none of this was easy on her daughter. Dani was close with her father, despite his frequent long absences, and she was more like him, which made common ground for bonding with her a challenge. Her daughter was too young to understand everything going on, but Abigail had done her best to explain the situation to her. She didn’t want her to rely on the tabloids for information. However, she sensed Dani blamed her, at least for the move, and she was determined to make things right with her. “She said I can start next week…whenever they need a substitute.” She glanced toward Jackson. Why was he still standing there—listening? “Isn’t that wonderful?”
Dani shrugged.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, and she forced herself not to look at Jackson. Moving her daughter farther away, she knelt in front of her. “I’m sorry you’re upset, and I know this move is hard on you,” she said. “But, I promise things are going to get better now.” How often had she said those words to Dani in the last three days? She wondered if it was only her daughter she was trying to convince. “Soon we’ll move into our own place, and before long this will start to feel like home.” She brushed her daughter’s whip-straight dark hair—her father’s hair—away from her face and searched her expression for any sign of understanding.
Dani didn’t look convinced, but finally, she nodded. “Fine. Whatever,” she said simply.
She’d take any agreement she could get at that moment. “Come on. We’ll go to the diner on Main Street for lunch.” The cafeteria food sucked. Soon enough they would both have to get used to it. But not today.
And she suspected soon enough she would have to get used to seeing Jackson Westmore. But that, too, was something she was more than willing to postpone for as long as possible.
* * *
“Keep your hands away from your body…that’s it. You don’t want to be looking down at the puck, or you won’t have it for long,” Jackson said as he skated backward, watching Taylor move across the ice toward the net with the puck.
Tryouts were the following week, and he wanted to make sure his niece would be ready. Darryl’s warning about the other dads still troubled him, but what had him off his game was his brief—yet far too long—glimpse of Abby Jansen earlier that day.
She was going to be teaching at the school. Fan-freaking-tastic.
He shook his head, banishing the image of her in her expensive suit, looking more beautiful than ever. He didn’t need any new memories of her competing with the old ones.
He moved closer to his niece to steal the puck, but she moved her body between him and the biscuit the way he’d taught her. He smiled. The kid was a natural. “That’s good. Where did you learn that?”
“From Uncle Ben,” she teased.
“Ha! I taught both of your uncles everything they know.” Ironically, that was true. He’d been the first of the three of them to develop an interest in the sport at age four. His older brother, Ben, and his younger brother, Asher, hadn’t started playing until several years later.
But, as it turned out, they were both better than he was. That’s why they were playing on major league hockey teams and he was still coaching in Glenwood Falls.
Taylor skated faster and shot the puck. It hit the right post.
“You released it too soon,” he said, skating up to her and patting her helmet. “Just hold on to it a little longer. You’re overeager to score without an assist—maybe you have been learning a thing or two from your Uncle Ben.” Ben played for the Colorado Avalanche. He was the top scorer for the team for the last three years, but he didn’t know how to share the puck.
Jackson skated by it and scooped it up. Checking his watch, he saw it was after five. They’d been practicing for almost two hours. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”
“Can we go to Slope and Hatch?”
“Craving a Big Valley Mac?” he asked as they sat on the bench to remove their skates.
She took off her helmet and shook her short dark hair. “Is there any other hot dog worth eating?”
He laughed. “You make a good point, kid. Go grab your stuff.” As she rushed off toward the locker rooms, he stood, staring out at the ice. Above the blue line hung the local team’s championship flags and across from him on the wall was the banner that read WELCOME TO THE HOME OF THE WESTMORE BROTHERS!
Ben and Asher—the source of community pride.
They were the stars of Glenwood Falls—he was just everyone’s favorite coach.