Chapter Seven
JAMES
“ I warned you I was bad at this,” Victoria says, clutching onto my hands.
She wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t know how to skate. From the moment we stepped onto the ice, she’d been holding on to either the boards or me. It’s been a while since I’ve skated with anyone so unsteady on their feet, but if I’m honest, it's also made it more fun.
I don’t remember learning to skate because I’ve been playing hockey for as long as I can remember. Every time I’ve stepped on the ice since then, I have been playing hockey or practicing to improve. There haven’t been many opportunities to skate for fun, and definitely not with someone who isn’t a hockey player.
“Are you regretting your decision now?” she says, losing her balance. I place my hand on her elbow while still holding her hand with my other. “I’ll let you back out of your deal if you want to stop now. You won’t have to buy me hot chocolate or anything. We can just forget this whole situation even happened.”
“Oh no, you aren’t getting out of it that easily,” I laugh. “Plus, you’re doing great.”
She looks up from her feet and gives me a dubious look. “I’ve nearly taken you down with me at least five times.”
“You think I haven’t fallen on the ice before? Peeps, I fall daily. I even get pushed or tripped frequently.”
“Yeah, with gear on.”
“I’ll be fine.” I look over my shoulder and see some kids bringing out sticks and pucks. I smile, thinking I have the perfect way to get her on board with our ice time. Guiding her over to the boards, I make sure she’s holding on tight before giving her a quick. “Wait here.”
“James! I’m kidding. I’ll keep going!” She pleads as I skate off. “Don’t leave me here, James!”
I turn and smile at her, skating backwards. “I’ll be right back. Just hold on.”
Turning back around, I skate faster to the bucket of sticks.
“Hey! You’re James Northman!” a kid around ten years old exclaims.
“I met you yesterday! You’re still in town?” Another says.
“Yeah, I’m still here.” I look over at Victoria, making sure she’s still upright. She wobbles a little as her feet slide out from under her, but she manages to regain her footing. “Can you two do me a favour? I’m trying to help my friend learn to skate, but she’s having a hard time. Do you think you can go and help her? Just until I get some things together.”
“Miss Victoria? You’ve got it!” one says.
“We can help!” the other says.
“Perfect, thank you. I’ll throw in some signed hockey cards as a thank you.”
The boys gasp and rush over, shouting thank yous as they race to reach Victoria. I smile as I watch them approach, each taking one of her hands and helping her–slowly–around the corner.
Pulling out my phone, I text Casey to bring some cards to the rink.
Casey
Bribing kids? Really?
It’s not bribing. It’s a thank you for helping me out. Would you rather I did nothing?
I guess you’ve got me there. Anything to get back into the good graces of the children since traumatizing them.
You act like I’m a clown or a walking horror movie. I did ONE THING.
The clown is debatable.
Unbelievable. Will you bring them or not?
Yes, relax. I’ll come in a little bit.
Putting my phone back in my jeans pocket, I steal one more glance at Victoria, seeing her laughing with the boys as they try to teach her to skate backwards. Bold move, but she’s getting the hang of it.
I grab two sticks and a puck from the bucket and weave through people, making my way back to her.
“Thanks, boys. You guys did a great job.”
“We made sure she didn’t fall at all,” the taller one said proudly.
“She did try, though,” the other added.
“There was no trying involved, boys,” Victoria sighs. “But thank you for helping me.”
“I’ve got it from here,” I add. “My agent is bringing the cards by. I’ll sign them and be sure to get them to you before you go.”
“Thank you!” they both shout as they skate away.
She looks at the sticks in my hand. “You aren’t expecting me to play hockey, are you?”
“Not exactly. But the stick can help.”
“How?” She keeps her eyes on the sticks as if she’s worried they’ll reach out and bite her.
“I’ll show you.” I drop the puck and one stick, using the second like a makeshift walking stick. “Use it like this, just until we reach the corner.”
Picking up the other stick and puck, I lead her away from the rest of the crowd, finding a free space.
“Now what?” she asks, momentarily losing her balance before regaining it with the help of the stick.
“Now, I teach you how to shoot.”
“I can barely stand on the ice, and now you want me to shoot?”
I laugh. “Just trust me.”
Dropping the puck, I stick handle it a few times before lining it up in front of me.
“When you shoot, try to line the puck up with the middle of your blade.”
She looks at me with a blank expression.
“Here, I’ll show you.” I pull my stick back, not as much as I normally would, but enough to send the puck flying into the back of the mini net that had been pulled out. “Your turn.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Come on.” I encourage her, giving her a wide smile. “Just once. I promise it’s fun.”
Narrowing her eyes, she shuffles until she’s standing where I was. I skate over to the net and pull out the puck, guiding it slowly in front of her.
She makes little steps until she finds a stance she’s comfortable with. Looking between the net and the puck. Pulling back her stick, she takes a deep breath and swings the stick, completely missing the puck altogether.
She sends me a look that says, ‘I told you so,’ but I don’t let her get away with it.
“Try again,” I say, skating over to grab the puck and place it back in front of her.
She huffs enough for her stray hairs to fly up for a moment before fluttering back down into her face. She’s cute, even when she’s frustrated. I feel a little bad for getting her to do this, but I also have a feeling that once she finds the back of the net, she’s going to find the thrill and want to do it again.
Placing my arm on the handle of my stick, I lean on it, giving her a smile while I wait. She looks at me, possibly thinking she can wait me out before I give up, but she underestimates my stubbornness.
After a few more moments of a silent showdown, she gives me another huff and turns back to the puck. Lining the blade up with the puck, she takes another deep breath and pulls back, letting the stick swing.
This time, the stick connects with the puck and sends it flying. It didn’t just slide across the ice, it flew .
“Well, that deserves a celly!” I exclaim. “Now, if you really wanna giver, yer gonna need to put more pressure on the twig there and let ‘her rip. Bar down. It’ll make any tendy look silly, eh?”
She just stares at me. “I have no idea what you just said.”
“Sorry, the goal made me switch to hockey talk,” I say meekly. “You did a great job, but if you really want to give it a go and test any goalie, you need to put a little more pressure on your stick. Really give it some…oomph.”
“Some…oomph,” she replies back, looking down at her stick, trying to figure out how to do that.
“Here, let me show you.” I drop mine and skate behind her, placing my arms around her and my hands over hers. “Place it down on the ice. Yeah, good. Like that. Now, lean into it a little. Push it down into the ice.”
She pushes down, and I almost lose my footing behind her.
“Not that hard,” I laugh. “It’s a good thing we aren’t at a practice. Coach would charge you for breaking the stick. Well, maybe not you, but he fines me now because I break so many.”
She looks over her shoulder at me, eyebrow raised. “Why do you do that?”
“I don’t do it on purpose. Not really, anyway. I just, uh, lose my temper sometimes.” I’m glad I’m behind her, and she’s not looking at me. I feel flush with embarrassment. I don’t know why; I’ve never been embarrassed about how I play before, but saying it out loud feels…different.
“You spend a lot of time in the penalty box, don’t you?”
“You could say that,” I admit quietly. “You know about the penalty box?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood and take the attention off my stats.
“I know basic hockey,” she laughs. “Now. Show me how to ‘give ‘her’ and ‘bend the twig .’
I laugh. “Alright, Peeps. Let’s give ‘er.”
Standing on the ice—my favourite place to be—with Victoria in my arms, the scent of her floral shampoo surrounding me, and a stick in my hand, I think this is the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.
I just need to figure out how to make sure whatever this is between us doesn’t end before it truly begins.
“Woah!” someone yells behind us as some kids start to scream.
I hold on to Victoria and turn to see what the commotion is about. “Is that a…?”
“A dog wearing bunny ears with a candy cane in its mouth?” Victoria finishes for me.
A black and tan German Shepherd rushes onto the ice, darting between skaters, making them crash into each other and fall to the ground.
“Who let him in?” someone yells.
“How dare he carry that– thing –in his mouth!” someone gasps.
“Catch him!”
“Ooooh, that Candy Cane Creek!”
“Should we, uh, get out of here?” Victoria asks, clutching onto my arm.
“Yeah, I think that’s best.” I keep an eye on the dog as it weaves in and out of people. It doesn’t seem to be trying to harm anyone, more just having zoomies on ice.
“Is it wearing a vest?” Victoria asks, shuffling her way along the board to the open door to the bench.
I sneak another glance. “It’s…it looks like a peppermint swirl with something written on it.” I narrow my eyes, trying to read as the pup slides into the corner, barely turning before skidding the other way. “I think it says ‘Candy Cane Creek Skating Club - Official pupscot.’”
“Pupscot?” she repeats, stepping into the bench. “That’s a new one. I guess they heard about the Easter Hop.”
“There really is a rivalry,” I say, still in somewhat of disbelief.
“You have no idea.” She sits on the bench and sighs in relief. “Now, where’s that hot cocoa you owe me?”
She’s looking up at me with a smile on her face that makes me forget all about the ice-skating dog. Right now, she’s the only one that exists to me, and I know I would give her anything to keep that smile on her face.