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“There you are, kiddo.” His kind blue eyes meet mine, and he walks over to join me on the swing, and I move the blanket over him as he sits and hands me a mug.

“Like you didn’t know I was out here?” I crinkle my nose at him. My relationship with Cami’s father has always been close.

He coached me when I was figure skating at his rink, and he used to pick me up off the ice when I refused to moveafter falling over. I used to sleep over at their house almost every weekend. He would make us hot chocolate and join us and Cami’s mom watching whatever girly movie we had put on, never complaining, just enjoying spending time with us.

“Well, I would have been out here sooner if Cami hadn’t threatened to quit her summer coaching at the rink if I made you cry; then the hockey player stood up so fast when I headed to the door, I thought he was going to tackle me.” He snorts, sipping his cider, and I blush.

“Oh, you mean Adam?” I look away and take a sip of my cider.

“You know who I meant. Want to tell me what’s going on there?” He nudges my arm, and I nudge him back.

“Nope.” I hum, kicking the swing a little and looking down into my mug.

“Just doing my job,” he grumbles, and I instantly know he’s talking about the promise he made to my dad when I started skating.

I was ten, my hair pulled back in plaits, and my dad had just handed me over to Coach Logan with a rink full of kids zipping around, making it look easy.

“You’ll be fine, honey,” my dad whispered, kissing my head. “I’ll be watching the whole time.”

“I don’t want to fall in front of everyone, Daddy.” I sniffled, trying to hold back tears.

A hand gently pats my shoulder and guides me towards the rink entrance. “Everyone else here is going to be falling all day, kiddo; nothing to be embarrassed about.” He laughs, helping me onto the rink. “Just take it slow to start. I’ll be righthere when you’re done,” my dad says a little louder so I can hear him as I skate off.

“Don't worry, I’ll pick her up when she falls. It’s my job. And if I don’t, my daughter Cami will; she’s the one in the back showing off,” Coach Logan said to my dad, extending his hand. He smiles, shaking it.

I don’t think he knew what he promised that day because Cami obviously heard and took it pretty seriously. Her dad has been like my dad ever since.

“I’m glad you’re with us today, kid. I just wish it were under better circumstances.” He puts an arm around me, and I lean in, taking a deep breath, the kind that rattles your insides.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this with her.”

“Your mom is a complicated woman, Brooke.” He squeezes my shoulder.

“You can say that again.” I sigh as I feel the tears forming behind my eyes.

“But your dad would have always wanted you to feel loved,”

I turn to him at the mention of my dad; we always skate around the subject of my dad because he was close with him, too, and we both miss him too much to talk about him.

“If she can’t give you that, kid, don’t waste any more of your time.” He smiles sadly. “I know he wouldn’t want to see you like this anymore; it’s probably killing him up there.”

I nod, knowing he’s right.

He wraps his arms around me completely, and the tears fall freely; I can feel my dad. Just for a moment, he’s there with me.

Letting me know it's ok.

Chapter Thirty Three

Grant

My heart broke for Brooke earlier when I saw her at her dad's grave. Having lost no one nearly that close to me, I can't imagine how she feels having lost another parent.

She's tougher than she looks; she's put on a brave face trying to enjoy the rest of the day, but when she steps onto the ice, it's like she lights up and feels relaxed for the first time today.

She glides around the rink, getting a feel for the borrowed skates. She's not bad. I'll have to sneak her into our rink one night to skate. If she wants, she might think that's weird and too much like a date.

I come up behind her and start skating around in circles; she joins me, laughing.