Page 24 of Daddies on Ice

I glance at the back table—paper cups, little napkins, stacks of gold and blue plates.

A volunteer mom is cutting apple slices.

Another is taping a hand-letteredThank You, Thunderwolves!sign to the wall. Beside the table sits an upright foam board where I lettered, “Autographs after Story Time—Suggested Donation $10”and “Photo Op—Suggested Donation $15.” Twocash boxes lie out, a basket for swipes and tap-to-pay on a tablet the library provided.

I breathe. It’s working.

“Mom!” Becky’s voice rings like a bell and I crane my neck to see her.

She’s down in the sea of kids, near the front, sitting next to a little girl with shoulder-length curly red hair and the biggest green eyes I’ve ever seen.

Becky’s curls tumble around her face as she waves a paper crown at me. “Mom, look! We’re queens!”

“You’re always a queen,” I mouth back. She beams so brightly, I could power the lights with it.

The red-haired girl glances up shyly, then darts her eyes away.

Becky leans in and whispers something and the girl’s lips twitch into a half smile. My heart warms.

A tall shadow moves in the doorway. Carl steps in—Coach Zoren—with the posture of a man born to carry responsibility.

His silver hair catches the overhead lights, his blue eyes sweeping the room once, quick and thorough.

He’s dressed casual today in a pair of blue jeans and boots, and he still somehow looks like he could eject nonsense from a thousand feet away.

He’s carrying a small backpack with a wolf keychain.

He scans the front row, and when his eyes land on the red-haired girl, his jaw loosens.

“Grandpa,” the little girls says excitedly, her eyes dancing with pleasure.

He kneels and kisses the top of her head. “Are you having a good time, Krystal?” His smooth, deep voice carries over to where I am.

She nods, cheeks pink.

He touches her shoulder and stands.

His gaze lifts and hooks mine. Then he walks over to where I’m hiding behind my clipboard.

“Trisha.” He always says my name like that, full and careful, like it’s on a roster. “You pulled this together well.”

“Barely,” I say with a nervous laugh that holds a hint of pride. I glance back at the girls. “She’s your granddaughter?” He nods. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s six,” he says with a small smile. “She readsa lot.” The faintest pride edges his tone, and it turns my insides to jelly. “Krystal already knows all the players, so seeing them isn’t that big of a deal. But being around other kids, like your daughter, is what she really wanted—and needs.”

“This is good for Becky, too,” I admit as we walk over to the group of players still huddled at the back of the room. “It looks like they are becoming fast friends.”

“That will make it nice for them as we travel,” Carl says. “At least they will have each other and not have to be around adults all the time.”

“If you can call half of these players adults,” I laugh.

We reach the group of players and stand before them. “Okay,” I say briskly, lifting my clipboard like a talisman. “We’ve got four readers for this slot. If we run long, we’ll cut the Q&A. Keep voices gentle. No jokes about monsters under beds. And please—no swearing if someone spills a juice box on your shoes.”

Ash stands with his hands in his pockets, looking much calmer than the others.

His blond hair is shorter than usual, and the tiny scar at the corner of his mouth pulls when he almost smiles. He catches me looking and nods once.

Jake lounges beside Ash. His dark hair falls just to his collar, the blond streaks catching light, his green eyes bright with mischief or hunger or both.