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She raises her brows at me.
“I know. Your big words are rubbing off on me.”
She grins, peering away. “I guess I don’t know. Can’t it be like someone who has the name Catherine? Sometimes people call her by her full name. Sometimes people call her Cat or Cathy.”
“So,Lenorewhen you’re in trouble.Lenwhen we’re having fun, and—”
“Never Nor,” she ekes out, gaze serious.
I make a cross over my heart. My sister went through a phase where she did this all the time, and for some reason, I mimic her here. “Cross my heart.”
I wonder why she hates the nickname Trish gave her. Why she doesn’t know where Trish is or ever talk about her? Not that I should be thinking about her right now when I should be watching this tape.
I turn my attention back toward the TV, but Len asks, “When did you start playing?”
“Youth hockey,” I answer. “My town had a team. I started when I was five.”
“Impressive. And you still like it?”
“Still get butterflies when I put on skates.”
She smiles. “That’s like writing for me. A blank paper is full of opportunities. It’s probably similar to when you put on skates. Thinking about all the things you could do…” She swallows. “Don’t mind me, I’m kind of a romantic about things like this.”
“Like what?”
“Chasing dreams.”
I smile at the thought. I almost turn the tape off because talking to Len is far more interesting, but I’m afraid if I do, she’ll leave. “Being known for something?”
She nods. “I like getting those bylines, I’m not going to lie.”
“Like being immortalized.” She nods in agreement, and I continue, “I used to want to play professionally, but…” There’s a lot after that but. However, now that I’m thinking about it, it sounds like a lot of sour grapes. “It would’ve been nice to have my name hanging in a rafter somewhere, so I get what you mean about bylines.”
“What are you going to do after graduation, then?”
“Get a job, settle down, maybe even coach for the youth hockey team that started me.”
“I love that,” she muses. “Full circle.”
On the TV, the faint sound of cheering meets my ears.
“Serendipitous,” she says.
“If you say so.”
She watches the celebration on the TV, then asks, “How long are you going to be up?”
I check my watch. “Not sure. Another hour, maybe. I don’t want to be up too late. Have to get my sleep in for the game tomorrow.”
“I’ll bring my work out here, then, and we can do it side by side.”
“Yeah?”
“If I won’t bother you. I just don’t feel like being alone.”
“Yeah, me neither,” I say quickly, throat closing up.
She stands, returning a few moments later with her small laptop and a notebook.