Page 5

FIVE

ETHAN

The familiar scent of freshly cut ice greeted me as I stepped into the rink.

The atmosphere always transported me back to good times.

I smiled, taking it all in, a mix of nostalgia and excitement for the beginning of camp.

This was also a safe place, free of all the responsibilities I’d taken on with the Pride festival.

I made my way toward the registration area, two cups of coffee from Special Blend in hand. Liam had sung the cafe’s praises since Caspian Lane had reopened it in January. He swore by the coffee, which I’d already found to be some of the best in town.

The coffee’s warmth seeped through the cardboard sleeve, a contrast to the cool air. Liam sat at the registration table organizing welcome packets.

“Morning!” I read the side of the cup, checking for the 3 before holding out one of the cups. “I come bearing fuel.”

Liam’s face lit up as he saw me approach. “Yes!” he said, reaching for the cup. “Perfect timing.”

“One triple pump maple latte.” I handed it over. “Just the way you like it, even if it might put you in a sugar coma later.”

Liam took a long sip, fluttering his eyelashes in satisfaction. “Worth it.” He raised the cup.

“I don’t know how you drink that. On the way in, I accidentally had a sip and I swear my eyes almost bugged out.”

“Lightweight.” He chuckled and made a show of taking another large drink.

We fell into a well-rehearsed rhythm, finalizing everything for the campers who would arrive in the next few minutes.

“How are you doing? You didn’t say much after dinner, and I didn’t want to push.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “I thought through a lot of things last night, about the festival and Andre too.”

Liam nodded, encouraging me to continue. He’d let me say as much or as little as I wanted to.

“There’s a speech. I wasn’t expecting that.” Like with my moms, I didn’t have to hide anything from Liam. “It’s just a few words, but the idea of standing up there in front of the town and visitors…” Not even being at the rink could hold back the anxiety that tightened in my chest like a vise.

Liam nodded and squeezed my shoulder. He knew my struggles with reading and the stress that had followed me into adulthood.

“I’m happy to practice with you so it’s memorized.”

He’d helped a lot back in school, as had my moms and other friends. “Thanks, man. There’s other stuff I may need help with too.”

“I’m sure I speak for all your friends when I say that we’re here to help. How much are you doing anyway?”

I gave him the full rundown.

“Wow. I didn’t realize what the bigger festival meant for you.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. If I wasn’t in it, it’d be great to attend.” I took a sip of coffee.

“You mentioned Andre too.”

“Oh, man.” I shook my head. “We almost found some peace, but then he laid into me about buying the Montgomery place.”

Liam’s eyes widened. “Really? Why would that matter?”

“He wanted to turn it into a queer youth camp, which is amazing. But I couldn’t even discuss that because he went off about how easy it is for me to get whatever I want with my hockey money .” I put up air quotes to make it clear he called it that.

Liam let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s rough.”

I shrugged, trying to shake off the lingering frustration. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but… I don’t know. One thing at a time.”

“Have you considered telling him about what you were juggling in school? It’s not his business, but it might help clear the air.”

I hesitated, considering Liam’s suggestion. I’d already said more to Andre than I’d intended. These days I navigated reading with the help of technology, but it didn’t reduce the flashbacks of how it had been in school when studying was difficult and talking in front of the class was nightmarish.

“I’ll think about it.”

As if the universe knew I needed a subject change, the doors to the rink opened and the first campers arrived. The energy shifted with excited chatter and the clatter of hockey gear being lugged in.

Liam and I seamlessly transitioned into greeting campers and parents, checking registrations, giving out packets, and directing everyone to the locker rooms. My mood improved as I welcomed returning players and introduced myself to first-timers.

Dix arrived as registration continued, his presence causing a stir among the campers who recognized him. He made his way over to us, looking around the busy lobby with a huge smile on his face.

“Morning, coaches.” He was dressed in the coaching outfit we’d provided—jacket, insulated shirt, and pants all emblazoned with a rainbow puck that featured the words Maplewood Hockey Camp. “Anything I can do to help?”

I glanced at Liam, who shrugged. “If you want to mingle with the campers, introduce yourself, that’d be great. You can also hit the ice whenever you want.”

Dix nodded, already scanning the crowd. “You got it.” He immediately started talking to some of the campers who were nearby.

Two familiar faces approached.

“Mimi! Tommy! Good morning.”

Mimi beamed, her excitement on display. “Coach Ethan! Coach Liam! Can’t wait to get started.”

Tommy nodded in agreement. “Is the ice open?”

“Of course.” I was sure Mimi and Tommy would live on the ice if they could. “You can go out anytime you’re ready.”

“Awesome,” Tommy said.

I handed over their information packets. “See you out there.”

They headed back to the locker rooms, stopping to chat along the way. Watching these kids grow and improve year after year was one of the best parts of running the camp.

A new camper stepped up, dragging his gear bag behind him and holding two sticks along with his phone. He appeared to be about sixteen, and his eyes darted all over, taking in the scene.

“Good morning,” I said as he leaned the sticks against the edge of the table, taking a moment to make sure they weren’t going to fall. “I’m Coach Ethan. Let’s get you checked in.”

The young man smiled. “Good morning.” He tapped his phone before he continued.

“Hi, I’m Milo Joss.” He paused again, seeming nervous.

“I’m deaf and my hearing aids are off right now because of the rink noise.

I signed up last night because I found out Dixon Cliff is here.

I know it’s last minute and you probably weren’t expecting a deaf player, but I’d love to do this.

I play for my high school in Montpelier, and my coach there could talk to you about how we make it work.

” He held the phone so I could see the screen for a moment.

“I’m not sure these captions are going to work well with the noise, but we can try.

I can read lips too.” He looked hopeful.

I held up a finger. “One moment.”

I pulled up my messaging app and spoke. “Hi, Milo. Great to meet you. I’m Coach Ethan. It’s great to have you here. To talk right now, we can text, go somewhere quieter so you can use your hearing aids, or I can sign. What works best for you so you don’t have to rely on lip reading?”

I handed my phone to Milo, and his face lit up as he read. He returned the phone to me and quickly signed back, his movements fluid and expressive. “You can sign?” He looked pleasantly surprised as he also spoke the words.

I nodded, my hands moving to form the words as I spoke aloud. “I learned in college. One of my roommates was deaf and he preferred signing.”

Milo’s smile widened. “That’s awesome. I usually sign if I can, even when my hearing aids are on. Is it okay if we talk like this for now?”

“Absolutely.” I continued to reply in sign and speak just as he was. “Tell me more about your last-minute decision.”

Milo’s hands moved expressively as he explained. “My coach mentioned yesterday that Mr. Cliff was going to be here. I’m a fan and I’d love to learn from him. Luckily, my parents said yes. But I know you might not be able to fit me in.”

Liam handed me Milo’s packet and the form with his details. “I apologize. I printed the form off this morning without reading it.”

“Just a second,” I signed to Milo. He nodded.

“There is a note here in the ‘what can we do to make this camp the best it can be for you’ field.” Liam pointed to that part of the page. “It says that Milo’s deaf and that he hoped it’d be okay to be here. His coach’s number is here too.”

“We can make this work,” I said to Liam. “We can talk to his coach this afternoon.”

“For sure.” He didn’t hesitate.

I returned my attention to Milo. “We’re happy to have you and we’re sure this can be a great experience for you. Can you tell me a bit about how you usually communicate during practices and games?”

Milo’s hands flew as he explained his usual setup—hearing aids during quieter off-ice moments, lip-reading, and a combination of hand signals and visual cues during play.

“For on-ice coaching and other times where there’s a lot of talking, I use my phone for real-time captions.

If a coach can have it in their pocket and hand it to me during discussions, I’ll be set. ”

I nodded, already thinking about how we could adapt our coaching style to fully include Milo. “We can do that,” I signed. “We’ll make sure to face you when we’re speaking too, and you can teach us some of the signals you use. Is there anything else you need from us?”

Milo hesitated for a moment. “I just hope I can keep up. I’ve never been to a camp like this before.”

The vulnerability tugged at my heart. I was familiar with that kind of worry.

“I have no doubt you’ll be successful. Your coach wouldn’t send you here if he didn’t think you could excel.” I looked around and found Tommy heading for the ice. “Hey, Tommy!”

He looked my way and I waved him over.

“What’s up, Coach Ethan?”

“Tommy, this is Milo,” I spoke and signed.

He nodded at Milo. “Milo’s joining us for the first time.

He’s deaf and often uses hearing aids, but it’s too noisy in here to have them on.

He also reads lips and sometimes uses his phone for captions.

Can you please show him where the locker rooms are and make sure he gets settled? ”

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” Milo said and signed to Tommy.

“You too, man.” Tommy faced Milo as he spoke. “Come on, I’ll show you so you can get changed and then you can come warm up with us.”

“Cool.” Milo turned back to me. “Thanks, Coach Ethan.”

Tommy and Milo sped across the lobby to the locker rooms. Once they disappeared from view, a man in his early forties approached the registration table, his expression warm and grateful.

“Hi there, I’m Adam Joss, Milo’s father.” He extended his hand to each of us in turn. “Thank you so much for making this smooth for him. He insisted on doing check-in on his own, but I wanted to introduce myself.”

“We’re happy to have him.” I smiled. “And I think Dix is going to be thrilled to have someone who's such a big fan too.”

“He’s always breaking down his plays. There was no way we could say no to him coming here.

” Adam leaned slightly on the table. “I noticed there’s a billeting program, but it’s closed for this session.

Is there any chance there might be something available?

He’s done summer camps the past two years with billet families, and it’s always been good.

If not, we’ll make the drive each day, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask. ”

Liam glanced at me before addressing Adam. “We might be able to work something out, but we’d need a day or so to see what’s possible.”

“That would be fantastic.” Adam pulled out his business card and handed it to Liam. “Whatever you can do, we’d appreciate it. I’ll be back this afternoon to pick him up, but please call if you need anything.”

“Will do, Mr. Joss. Thanks for trusting us with him,” I said.

“Please, call me Adam.” He checked his watch. “I should get going. See you this afternoon!”

The lobby had emptied quickly as the top of the hour approached. Liam and I went into the rink and saw Dixon passing the puck with some of the campers. Milo was stretching with Tommy, Mimi, and a couple of others.

Despite the stress of the festival, sharing the ice with these kids and coaching them would help keep me grounded for the week.