21. Annette #2
My eyes drift back toward Jamie. "He remembers more than everybody."
He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "If I tell Captain Walker I have a dentist appointment next Thursday..."
He pauses dramatically. "...he'll ask me how my teeth are doing six months from now."
I laugh. "I believe that."
"The rest of us? We'd be lucky to remember we even have teeth."
The image makes me laugh again.
***
Liam watches Jamie for another moment before smiling to himself. "You know what's really funny?"
"What?"
"Most people think Jamie became a good captain because he wears the 'C'."
He shakes his head. "They've got it backwards."
My heart catches. "The captain became someone worth admiring..."
Liam points toward Jamie, now crouching to tie the skate of another little boy whose father is juggling two younger children. "...because he was Jamie first."
For a second, I simply stare at him. Those are almost the exact words that have been echoing through my mind since the day Jamie told me about receiving the captaincy.
Liam notices my expression. "What?"
"Nothing."
I smile into my cup. "I was just thinking..."
My eyes find Jamie again. "...I think you're right."
Liam studies me for a second, then a slow grin spreads across his face.
"Oh."
"What?"
"Nothing."
His grin grows wider. "I was just thinking."
He takes another sip of hot chocolate. "This charity skate just got a whole lot more interesting."
Before I can ask what he means, someone across the lobby calls his name. He points his cookie toward me like a salute. "Don't let Captain Serious work too hard."
Then he's gone. I watch him disappear into the crowd, wondering if I've just been teased without realizing it. Knowing Liam, the answer is almost certainly yes.
Across the lobby, Jamie finally looks up. His eyes search the room for only a moment before finding mine, and the smile that appears is completely different from the one he's been giving to everyone else.
Smaller.
Warmer.
As though simply seeing a familiar face lets him take one quiet breath before turning back to the next person waiting.
And for reasons I can't quite explain...my heart smiles right along with him.
***
The charity skate settles into an easy rhythm once the opening ceremony ends.
Children wobble cautiously across the ice while parents cheer from the stands.
Volunteers fit borrowed helmets, tie loose skate laces and hand out cups of hot chocolate.
Every few minutes another child discovers enough confidence to let go of the boards, and the entire arena seems to celebrate the tiny victory.
Jamie spends nearly an hour doing little more than encouraging people.
He skates slowly along the boards, never drawing attention to himself, yet somehow becoming the person that every nervous child wants beside them.
He steadies one little girl after she loses her balance, races another boy to the blue line at half speed and spends five patient minutes helping a teenager with a prosthetic leg find a comfortable stride.
***
None of it looks rehearsed. It simply looks like Jamie.
Eventually he glides toward the bench where I am standing. "Having fun?"
"I'm beginning to think this isn't a fundraiser."
"No?"
"It's an excuse for you to spend an evening making children believe they can do impossible things."
He laughs. "I've been caught."
"You have."
Before he can answer, another familiar voice interrupts. "There he is."
Toby Donovan walks toward us carrying three paper cups of coffee as though they weigh nothing at all. "I figured Captain would forget to eat."
"I already did."
"I know."
Toby hands him a cup before offering one to me. "Annette, right?"
I smile. "That's me."
"It's good to see you again. I've been meaning to thank you."
Jamie looks confused and I ask for what.
Toby answers, "For convincing him he isn't indestructible."
Jamie groans.
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
Toby grins broadly. "We've been trying for years."
"I was never that bad."
Three nearby voices answer at once. "You were."
Jamie shakes his head. "I walked into that one."
"You've been walking into quite a few lately," I observe.
"I've noticed."
Toby laughs so hard he nearly spills his coffee. "I like her."
Jamie gives me an exaggerated look of betrayal. "I thought you were on my side."
"I am." I smile sweetly. "I'm also on the side of objective truth."
"That's a dangerous combination."
"So, I've been told."
Before the conversation can continue, Caleb Hart joins us, quieter than Toby but no less observant.
He nods politely.
"Annette."
"Caleb."
"Thanks for getting him back."
The words are simple. Matter of fact. There is no exaggeration in them. Only gratitude.
I glance toward Jamie. "I've just been doing my job."
Caleb's eyes drift to his captain before returning to me.
"Maybe."
His expression softens almost imperceptibly. "But you've given us more than his shoulder."
For a moment no one says anything. Jamie looks down at the coffee in his hands. Toby suddenly clears his throat.
"Well..."
He points toward the ice. "I promised three eight-year-olds I'd judge a backwards-skating race."
Liam appears from nowhere. "Which is an absolutely terrible idea."
"They asked."
"They're eight."
"They'll survive."
"They probably won't win."
"They're racing each other."
Liam considers that. "Fair point."
He hooks an arm around Toby's shoulders.
"C'mon. Let's go destroy some young dreams."
"We are not destroying dreams."
"We're setting realistic expectations."
Their argument continues all the way back toward the ice, drawing laughter from volunteers who have clearly witnessed versions of this conversation before.
Caleb watches them disappear. "I don't know how Coach survives those two."
Jamie smiles. "He doesn't."
"No." Caleb nods. "He really doesn't."
Then, with one last glance between Jamie and me, he quietly excuses himself and heads toward the locker room. I watch him go. "He notices everything, doesn't he?"
Jamie follows my gaze.
"Caleb?"
"He doesn't say much."
"He doesn't have to."
I smile.
"I've noticed."
***
The arena begins emptying as the evening draws to a close.
Children leave carrying signed jerseys, photographs and stories they'll probably tell for years. Volunteers stack chairs while arena staff gather cones and skating aids from the ice.
For the first time all evening, the building grows quiet.
Jamie stands near center ice, looking out across the empty rink.
I walk beside him.
"Tired?"
"A little."
"Worth it?"
He doesn't answer immediately. Instead, he studies the arena that has been part of his life for so many years.
"I used to think this place was home."
His voice is almost thoughtful. "I’ve spent more time here than anywhere else."
I look around the now-silent building. "It's a good place."
"It is."
"But after the injury..." He slips his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "...I realized something."
"What?"
"I missed the people more than I missed the building." The words settle softly between us.
I think about Ethan.
Coach.
Liam.
Toby.
Caleb.
The children.
The volunteers.
Everyone who had smiled simply because Jamie was back. Maybe home was never the building."
He turns towards me and a slow smile appears. "Maybe it was always the people."
I smile back. "Jamie, I think you've known that for a long time."
"Maybe." He looks toward the empty stands one last time before we begin walking toward the exit.
Outside, the night air is crisp enough to remind us winter hasn't completely surrendered.
Together we walk across the parking lot, the arena lights glowing behind us. The crowd has thinned, leaving only scattered conversations drifting through the cold evening air.
Neither of us seems in much of a hurry to reach our cars. "I had a really nice time tonight," I say.
Jamie smiles. "So did I."
We stop beside my car, and he tells me thanks for coming.
His voice is quieter than usual. "Tonight reminded me of what this life looks like from the outside."
I wait.
"You saw all of it." "The crowds. The expectations. The constant interruptions."
"And you still treated me exactly the same way you always do."
I smile. "How else would I treat you?"
His answer comes almost before I've finished speaking. "I don't know."
"I do." He looks at me. "Because that's who you are."
For a moment, I simply study him, then I smile and shake my head.
"No."
"Because that's who you are."
His expression softens in a way I've never quite seen before.
Not surprise. Not gratitude. Something quieter. Something that doesn't need words.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. Then he reaches for my passenger door and opens it before I can.
"Drive safely."
I smile. "You too."
He waits until I'm settled behind the wheel before closing the door.
As I pull away, he's still standing exactly where I left him, one hand lifted in a small wave.
Only after I step into my apartment do I realize I've forgotten to check my phone all evening.
It buzzes almost immediately...
It’s a notification from the Blizzards Foundation social media page. Photos from tonight's charity skate. Curious, I open the gallery. Children. Families. Volunteers. Liam making ridiculous faces behind a group picture, and Toby wearing three tiny helmets because three little boys insisted.
Then...
I stop scrolling.
One candid photograph fills the screen.
Jamie isn't looking at the camera. He isn't signing an autograph. He isn't speaking to reporters.
He's looking across the arena...at me.
The smile on his face is warm, unguarded.
He’s completely unaware that anyone captured the moment.
My breath catches.
"Oh..."
I whisper.
The room around me suddenly feels very quiet.
For the first time...
I wonder if everyone else has been seeing something...
long before I was willing to admit it myself.
"Oh..."