10. Dakota
“Is Uncle Christopher coming?” Rain asks as we walk out of the house on our way to their hockey practice. Or whatever it is that this is. All I know is we have to meet him at the rink by seven thirty on a Saturday. I mean, it’s not like we sleep in, but still.
“I want Uncle Chrissy to tie my skates,” Luna mumbles as she steps out of the door while I wait to close it.
“If he’s not there, I will tie them,” I tell her, and I don’t have a chance to say anything else because the girls squeal his name.
I look over my shoulder and see him standing there, leaning against his truck. He’s wearing another pair of black joggers with a hooded sweater this time. A baseball hat turned backward; he has stubble on his jaw, but all I can really focus on is him holding out his hands to the side with a huge-ass smile on his face as the girls run toward him. “Who’s ready to skate?”
I walk down the stairs with the girls’ bags in my hand, making my way to them. The sleeves from my sweater fall from my elbow to over my wrist. “Let me help.” Christopher walks over to me, grabbing the bags from my hand. “Open the trunk, will you, so I can put the stuff I bought in?”
“Stuff you bought?” I ask, confused. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing much,” he says, opening my trunk and then going to his and coming back with two small hockey bags. “Just like, chest protectors and elbow pads. Some shin pads, just a little bit of everything,” he mumbles as he puts the bags in the trunk. The girls are already loaded in the back of the SUV.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here this morning.” I take a deep breath. “I would have made you coffee.”
“We can get coffee after,” he suggests, avoiding looking at me. “We should get going. We have to check them in. I filled out their registration papers, but things are missing.”
“You filled out registration papers?” If someone had told me three months ago, or even last week, that Christopher Stone would be filling out kids’ registration forms, I would have bet money against that person, knowing it would be a sure bet.
“Yeah, I don’t know their medical history and all that,” he states, walking around the SUV and opening the door. “Did you want me to drive?”
“Um, no,” I say as I walk to the SUV and pull open the driver’s side door in time to see him turn in his seat and share his excitement with the girls.
“Are we all buckled in?” I look in the rearview mirror at the girls, who are both smiling so big it feels like it’s Christmas morning. I buckle myself in before I pull out and make the mistake of looking over at Christopher. “How long were you out there waiting?”
“About fifteen minutes,” he answers as if it’s nothing, and all I can do is pick my jaw up off the floor. I don’t say another word to him because the kids ask him questions about if he’ll be on the ice. What happens if they fall? Is he going to tie their skates?
We pull into the parking lot, and it looks like almost all the spots are taken. He’s out of the car before I even turn it off, opening the back door and getting the kids. I join them in the back of the SUV, where Christopher hands me a manila folder. “The papers are in there,” he tells me as he puts both bags over his one shoulder, then grabbing their bag with skates.
He presses the button to close the trunk before turning and walking toward the doors. The girls walk on each side of him, and I follow them. I take out my phone and snap a picture of it.
When we walk in, I’m a little taken aback by all the parents there. I look around quickly to see if there are any faces I recognize, breathing a sigh of relief when there are none. “Hi,” Christopher says to the guy sitting behind a brown table. “My name is Christopher.”
“Yes, you called about your girls,” he says, and my eyes go wide. I immediately look down at the girls to see if they caught that, but they are much too interested in getting on the ice.
“This is Rain, and this is Luna.” He smiles down at them. “That’s Mom.” He points over at me. “Dakota. She has the forms that need to be filled out.”
“Perfect, you can go in there, and they will hand you a jersey for each girl. I got the payment already, so you’re good to go,” he says, pointing at the hallway we went in the last time.
“You got this?” Christopher says to me, motioning to the guy with his head, and all I can do is nod.
“Let’s go, girls,” he urges them, and they don’t even turn around to say goodbye to me. I walk over to the desk, open the folder, and see that he filled out all their things with their names and birthdays. I go through the medical side of it and check no for everything before handing it to the man.
“Thank you.” I smile at him, turning and seeing all the parents walking into the rink through the two brown doors. The cold hits you as soon as you step foot into the rink. I walk up the two steps to sit on the bleachers, looking at the side. I see a couple of the kids lining up at the door when a guy walks out wearing a black tracksuit and helmet. The kids move away to give him a chance to open the door before they get on the ice.
I sit here looking at the kids skate onto the ice. A couple of them know how to skate while a couple of them fall as soon as they get on the ice. Then the kid in back also ends up either tripping one of them or falls into one of them. It’s like a chain reaction. Then I see Christopher with the girls right next to him. Luna looks like she’s going to fall over with all the padding, and she says something to him, and he just laughs at her. But my eyes then go to Rain, who smirks at Christopher before she gets on the ice. I hold my breath, thinking she might fall since she’s never skated with padding. But she moves side to side like Christopher taught her the last time. On the other hand, Luna skates and ends up on her bottom two seconds later. I’m about to get up and go to her when I see Christopher tell her something, and she nods and gets up. He looks over the crowd and spots me.
He comes over and sits next to me. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” He chuckles, rubbing his hands together. “I don’t think I’ve ever sat on this side before.”
I shake my head. “How are they?”
“Excited AF.” He looks at me, and his smile is contagious. He looks back on the ice and rubs his hands together, then blows on them.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, seeing his eyes on the girls making sure that he can have them in his sight the whole time.
“No.” He pffts at me, then leans into me and looks around before he says, “But if one of those fuckers push them down.”
I can’t help the way his tone hits me; my head goes back, and I laugh out loud. The sound echoes in the arena, and a couple of the parents look my way. I push him with my shoulder. “What if the girls push them?”
“They probably deserved it,” he states, and I roll my eyes. “What?” He shrugs.
“A couple of things,” I start when I take my phone out and snap a couple of pictures of the girls, prompting Christopher to do the same thing. “One, how much does this cost?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says without even looking at me.
“What do you mean don’t worry about it?” I make sure my voice is low.
“It means I took care of it.” He finally looks over at me. “So what’s next?”
“What?” I’m now confused.
“Well, you said a couple of things.” He turns back to look at the ice. “What is the next thing?” Then he turns back to me.
I don’t know if it’s his blue eyes or the way his voice goes low, or the way he always turns back to make sure the girls are okay that literally takes all the words out of my vocabulary. “Um.” I quickly turn away. “How many times a week is this thing?”
“It’s either Saturday or Sunday, depending on what team they get put on. But I was talking to Guy, and he said I can rent out the ice a couple of times a week if I want to.”
“That’s a lot of hockey.” I watch the ice, seeing Luna struggling, but Rain is being put in one group after another.
“I can take them.” He puts his hands on the bench beside my leg. “You can, I don’t know, go to Target.”
I close my eyes, laughing. “What’s wrong with Target?”
“Nothing, I just know when a woman goes in there, they are gone for a while.” His eyes never leave the girls. They go back and forth from one group to the next.
“You are not wrong,” I agree with him. The kids stay on the ice for fifty minutes until the bell rings, and then one of the men blows the whistle for the kids to get off the ice.
Christopher is already on his feet, walking down the bleachers to the door, leaving me by myself with the rest of the other moms. I get up and walk toward the door and the waiting area.
A couple of the kids come out with their fathers, their hair wet, and then I see them. Luna walks out first, with Rain holding Christopher’s hand.
“Mommy.” Luna runs to me, and I bend to pick her up. “I fell,” she reports happily, “but then I got up. I’m a superstar.”
“Are you?” I ask, and she nods, her hair wet and stuck to her forehead.
“That’s what Uncle Chrissy said.” She plays with the collar of my sweater. I swallow down the lump that has suddenly risen from my stomach. “He said Rain was a superstar too.”
“Mom, did you see?” Rain asks when she comes to me. “I went from group to group because I was too good.”
“That’s my girl,” Christopher praises, holding up his fist for her to fist bump him. “Now, how about we go and eat some breakfast?”
“I’m hungry.” Luna squirms in my arms to get down. “I want breakfast tacos.”
“Yes,” Christopher says, walking toward the door with the girls, holding it open for them. “I want extra hash browns.”
“Me too,” Luna agrees, walking out with Rain.
Christopher looks over his shoulder at me, holding the door open. “You okay?” he asks, and I want to tell him I’m not okay. Nothing about this is okay. Nothing about this morning should be okay. Nothing about him taking my girls to hockey should be okay. Nothing about this is okay, yet everything about this feels okay.
I look at my phone and make a note of the date and realize that for the first time in over a year, I don’t hate Benji. “I’m coming.”