Chapter 21
I Was in So Much Trouble
Mia
It wasn’t Tonya’s fault that Barney got an ear infection and had to go to a clinic.
It certainly wasn’t someplace she wanted to bring Arne along.
Cora was taking Mom to her doctor’s appointment and was already pissed that they’d have to take an Uber, since the car was still in the shop.
Neither she nor Dorian knew how to drive a manual transmission, so they didn’t even try to get the keys to the Subaru.
I’d warned Justin that I would have Arne with me for the day.
We were going to the rink for Justin’s on-ice evaluation.
Arne had been distracted from hockey by his dad’s arrival, but that was already wearing off.
I hadn’t wanted to get him focused on hockey again, but as Justin said, I might as well find out if it was something that seriously interested him.
If it did, maybe skating lessons would tide him over for another year.
Damn, I hoped he’d hate it, which wasn’t fair.
He was just a kid. I wanted him to have opportunities and dreams and hope for the future. I wanted him to have everything.
He had no complaints when I told him that instead of spending the day with Barney we were going to see Justin. And when I explained we’d be at an arena, he vibrated with excitement. “Really?”
“Justin’s team want to see him on the ice. We’ll wait till they’re done, and Justin is going to ask them if we can skate.”
His eyes were blazing and his smile almost split his face. “Maybe someone will play hockey?”
I ruffled his hair. “I don’t think you can play hockey with just one player.”
“I bet Mr. Justin is good, right?”
“Yes, he’s very good.” Something I knew firsthand. “It’s important to be able to skate well if you want to play hockey.” I was preparing him for a year of skating.
“Can I wear the jersey? The one that was Mr. Justin’s?”
“Absolutely.”
Justin was waiting on the porch when we pulled into the driveway. He was in workout wear, something without buttons, but his broad shoulders and muscular thighs filled it out. And, well, I might have drooled. A little bit. Until Arne squealed in my ear.
Justin got into the passenger seat, sliding it back. Arne leaned forward from where he was buckled in the back.
“Hi, Mr. Justin!”
Justin turned with a smile. “Hi, Arne. Nice jersey. How are you doing?”
“I’m good! My friend Barney is sick so I get to come today. Are you going to skate?”
Justin shot a glance at me. “Yeah, along with some boring stuff.”
“You’re a good skater, right? Mom said so.”
He shrugged. “You can’t play hockey if you can’t skate.”
Arne was quiet for a moment, and I checked him in the rearview mirror. His brow was furrowed as he thought. “Is it hard to learn?”
“It’s different for everyone.”
I backed out and headed toward the arena. Justin kept talking.
“I don’t remember, since I started when I was younger than you. But I think some people learn quickly and some find it harder. You won’t know till you try.”
Arne shot me a glance. “Mom says we might skate today.”
My heart twisted. “We’ll see what we can do.”
Arne had more questions, and Justin answered. I’d assured him he could tell Arne if he didn’t want to talk, so apparently Justin didn’t mind. Arne’s nonstop interrogation annoyed some people, but he was honestly so curious about everything that he could listen for long minutes to someone’s answer.
They were deep in a discussion of hockey skates versus figure skating skates versus speed skating skates when we arrived at the arena. I parked, and Justin looked at the building.
A rare smile tilted his lips. “This hasn’t changed much since I played here.”
“You played hockey here?” Arne asked, voice excited.
“I played almost everywhere.”
“I remember.” I hadn’t thought before answering, but I’d gone to as many games as I could when we were dating.
“Did you see him play, Mommy?”
I froze. I hadn’t told Arne about the past between Justin and me. Justin’s smile was gone.
“Yes, Justin and I were…friends.”
“Wow. Could we see him play sometime?”
I still couldn’t move. If I said tickets were too expensive, would Justin offer some when the team was playing in Vancouver? I shot Justin a glance, but he crossed his left hand over to open the door. “I should get in there.”
That distracted Arne, but he’d come back to it.
I helped Arne out, and then we hurried to catch up to Justin.
The door was open and he led the way to the home team locker room.
There were a couple of men already there, and an equipment bag that read Justin Johnson.
They must have brought it from Toronto. A big difference from the days when he’d had to lug his gear around on his own. Back when I’d been with him.
“JJ. Good to see you.”
Justin nodded. “This is the PSW who’s helping me while my hand is out of commission. Mia and Arne, this is Carlos, who takes care of our equipment, and Alan, one of our trainers.”
Alan nodded our way. “Hope you’re taking good care of our guy. Uh, you wanna watch from the stands?”
I looked at Justin. “Do you need me…”
He shook his head. “If Carlos is here, he can help with my skates.”
Carlos nodded and started to pull things out of the bag. I recognized the dismissal and led Arne out of the room.
“Who were those guys, Mommy?”
I hadn’t been in this arena for years, but I remembered how to get to the seats. “I think they work for Justin’s team. They’re here to see how he’s doing.”
“They’re from the Blaze? That’s his team, right?”
“Yeah.” I led Arne up to a seat that was close enough to the ice to get a good view, but far enough away that if we talked, we wouldn’t disturb anyone.
I’d brought a backpack with distractions for Arne, but he was more interested in the arena around us.
And he had questions. What were the lines on the ice for?
What were the banners hanging down? Where were the hockey nets?
Finally, Justin came out with the two men from the team. The trainer had a clipboard, the equipment guy some pucks and sticks.
“Are they going to play, Mommy?”
“No, sweetie. This is just to see how Justin is doing.”
Justin grabbed a stick with his right hand, the bright colors Arne had added showing on the cast. He tried to hang on to it with his fingers, but the cast made it too difficult. With a shrug he passed it back.
Carlos took the stick and pucks away and came back with some cones that he set out around the ice. Then he and the trainer shuffled back to the boards and Justin began to skate slowly. Warming up, I told my son.
Justin had to be a little rusty—it had been weeks since he’d been on skates. I couldn’t tell though. He lapped the rink effortlessly and then skated in patterns around the cones. After each round, he got faster. Then Alan talked to him, and he skated in reverse.
Arne’s eyes were wide open as he watched. “He’s so fast, Mommy. How can he skate backward?”
I tore my gaze away from Justin reluctantly.
He wasn’t flashy but effortlessly competent.
I’d always loved watching him skate. “All the players in the NHL are fast, sweetie. They skate a lot, so they get good at it. Except maybe the goalies. They don’t have to cover the whole rink like the skaters. ”
I hadn’t seen Justin skate since we’d been together, and it brought back so many memories.
Good ones. Ones I’d tried to forget. When I was watching one of his games, I’d focus only on his play when he was on the ice.
Calm, capable, trustworthy, just like him.
Which made the whole punching Alek Denbrowski incident even more out of character.
No wonder the team was worried about him.
They spent about thirty minutes altogether on the ice.
Sometimes Justin was talking with the others, sometimes he was skating, doing drills of some sort.
I’d expected Arne to get bored and want his tablet, but he’d been fascinated the whole time.
I hoped it was Justin and maybe the skating.
If it was hockey, I was in so much trouble.
Finally, the people from the team were gone, leaving Justin on his own. He skated over to where we were sitting. Justin waved me down. Arne followed.
“I’ve got permission for us to use the ice for a bit longer. This place rents skates for open skating nights. You guys up for it?”
The look on Arne’s face when I said yes made me feel like the best mom ever—while knowing I might soon have to be the worst.
We met Justin at the skate rental. He asked what size Arne took, and Arne almost vibrated as Justin pulled out a pair for him. I picked them up, ready to help Arne put them on, then Justin put a pair of women’s skates on the counter as well. “You’re a size seven, right?”
My mouth opened to say I wasn’t skating, but what came out was “You remember?” He nodded.
“Actually, I’m an eight now.” His brows shot up.
“Side effect of pregnancy.” He didn’t want to hear about ligaments loosening and not tightening up after delivery.
He put the skates away and got out another pair.
I wanted to avoid skating, but was it fair for me to expect Justin to take care of my kid on the ice?
Mentally shaking my head, I took the skates and followed Justin to the locker room.
Arne had his skates clutched to his chest as he sat on a bench.
I knelt in front of him and pulled off his runners.
“Your mom is going to have to tie those up really tight,” Justin said from behind me. Warning Arne or reminding me?
“How come?”
“It’s easier to skate if you don’t have to concentrate on keeping your ankles straight.”
Arne nodded. “Do them really tight, Mommy.”
At least after that he didn’t complain when I tied them very securely.
While I put on my own skates, Arne stood up in his, walking around cautiously. The skates felt strange on my feet. The last time I’d skated had been…back when I was with Justin. A long, long time ago.
Once I was ready, Justin led the way. He stepped onto the ice and turned to face us, holding out his good hand. He looked at me. “Okay if I take Arne for a lap?”
I nodded. It might take time for me to get my ice legs back.
Arne readily grabbed Justin’s hand and stepped on the ice. He wobbled and gripped Justin’s forearm with both of his hands.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried now that Arne might injure Justin’s arm.
Justin grinned and nodded. “Now, Arne, slide forward with one foot.”
With a fearlessness I envied, my son did just that. He still had a death grip on Justin, but Justin didn’t waver, just waited till Arne felt comfortable and then told him to slide the next foot forward.
Once they were a couple of feet away from the gate, I stepped on the ice myself. I held my hands out for balance as I got used to skates again. I pushed off carefully with one foot, and with only a wobble, the other.
By the time I met up with Justin and Arne, circling the other way, I was comfortable. I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed skating. When was the last time I’d done something just for fun?
“You can skate, Mommy?
I smiled at him. “I used to skate a lot. How are you doing?”
He drew his brows together. “I keep slipping.”
“It’s your first time,” Justin said. “You have to practice if you want to learn something.” He raised his brows at me, checking if he was crossing any lines, and I shook my head. He wasn’t trying to convince Arne it was easy, and instead was making sure my son knew it would take a lot of work.
“I can do that.” My heart sank a bit, while I had to smile. Sometimes I could not believe this kid—despite everything in our lives, he was just a joy. “I want to be able to go fast, like you and Mr. Justin do.”
It didn’t look like Operation Make Arne Hate Skating was going to work, so I held out my right hand to him. “Maybe Mr. Justin and I can take you for a spin.”
Arne grabbed at my hand, his other still holding tightly to Justin’s.
This was familiar: Justin and I had gone to free skates and done laps holding hands like this—only now we had a six-year-old as a buffer between us.
Arne let us drag him around at first, but started to move his legs, trying to emulate us as we did more circuits around the rink.
I finally called a halt to it when my ankles started to ache. I was out of condition.
Fortunately, Justin asked Arne if he wanted to shoot the puck.
For once, my kid was speechless, just nodding frantically.
I followed Justin to the corner to pull out a net.
There was a small stick there and a bucket of pucks.
I carried the stick and pucks to one of the face-off circles and kept out of the way.
Justin told him how to hold the stick, how to move it. When Arne was still struggling, he skated up behind him and leaned over, holding his hands and moving them till Arne got it.
My insides folded over on each other and my heart almost burst with gratitude for Justin doing this. Arne could use all the positive male role models he could find.
Maybe other parts of me were swoony, but I blocked those thoughts out.
When Arne started to get irritable, it was time for me to step in. “We should go now.”
Arne pouted.
I narrowed my eyes. “We’ve taken up enough of Mr. Justin’s time.”
The pout stopped, and I didn’t need to send a warning glance to Justin. He nodded. “You might find your ankles and feet get a little achy after this.”
Arne was ready to deny it, but I told him mine were and we headed to the gate.
Arne liked skating, and not because he was with a bunch of other kids all having fun with sticks and pucks.
He knew it would be hard work, but he hadn’t been discouraged.
This moment had been bound to come. Now I was prepared.
That was good. I had to repeat the message because my brain was panicking.
I undid Arne’s skates. Then he rushed to help Justin unlace his, which he was awkwardly doing with his left hand. I was not prepared for another twist in my heart when I saw them working together.
I was in so much trouble. Arne and hockey, me and Justin. What the hell was going to come out of this?