Just In Time: An Alaskan Nights Novel

by Addison Fox

  “He’s been interested in me but he’s been gentlemanly enough to give me space.”

  “I don’t believe this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re my grandmother.”

  “Don’t you think I deserve it?”

  Whatever anger fueled him faded at her question and, instead, she saw him practically slump before her. The broad shoulders that always looked so strong and solid seemed to shrink. “Of course you do.”

  “Then what is it? What’s the matter?”

  “Beyond the shock?”

  She let out a hard sniff. “It’s not that shocking.”

  “You’re not the one who saw what I was looking at.”

  She couldn’t resist poking at him. “I had the far better seat.”

  “You’re still my grandmother. I don’t know what to do with this.”

  “Don’t do anything with it.” The words were casual but she knew it wasn’t that simple. Roman’s reaction might have been a bit extreme, but she’d give him a bit of leeway due to how he found out about them.

  But others?

  She knew others would have something to say about her and Ken’s relationship. It was why she’d wanted to savor it for a few days before becoming the latest topic of the town grapevine.

  “Why haven’t you told Mary and Sophie?”

  “They don’t need to know when I sneeze.”

  “You’re doing more than sneezing.”

  She couldn’t hold back the triumphant smile. “I most certainly am.”

  “Okay.” He held up his hands. “I need to leave.”

  “You don’t want breakfast?”

  “No.”

  She watched Roman walk to the large box he’d obviously dropped at the sight of her and Ken. He retrieved it before crossing back to place it on the counter.

  “Thank you for bringing my things.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She’d nearly let him leave—was going to—before the urge to say one last thing stopped her. “Roman.”

  “Yeah?” He turned at the entryway to the kitchen.

  “I’m happy.”

  “I know.”

  • • •

  Avery blew hard on her whistle, ending the current ice drill. The clock had run down almost fifteen seconds ago but Roman missed it so she took it on herself to call the halt. Loud, jumbled shouts echoed off the bleachers as the kids yelled good-natured insults at each other.

  “Take ten minutes and go get some water!”

  After watching the boys race off to the water stations they’d set up at the far end of the rink, she skated over to Roman. “What’s up with you today? Do you want to call practice short?”

  “No.”

  She laid a hand on his arm, trying to break through whatever bad mood had taken hold of him. “What’s wrong then? You’ve barely looked at the kids since they started the first drill.”

  “I walked in on my grandmother this morning.”

  Several images floated through her mind, but she figured he could only mean the obvious. “Was she naked?”

  “Not at that particular moment.”

  “What did you walk in on then?”

  “Her and Doc Cloud kissing on the back porch.”

  “Oh!” The image she had of Roman accidentally finding his grandmother naked shifted to something more interesting. And all-together wonderful.

  “That’s fantastic! I’ve been hoping for them.”

  “What’s so fantastic about it?”

  “They like each other.”

  “They’re in their seventies.”

  The sheer stubbornness that set his face in hard lines had Avery pulling back. “So?”

  “So it’s weird. And a bad idea.”

  “There’s nothing weird or bad about it.”

  “Oh don’t pull that shit. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t find it odd to walk in on . . . on that.”

  “No.”

  “Liar.”

  “I mean, it’s awkward to walk in on any couple having a private moment. But do I think it’s weird that they were kissing? No. Not at all.”

  “What if he’s taking advantage of her?”

  “Your grandmother?” The idea of anyone taking advantage of Julia Forsyth was as outrageous as it was laughable. “Yeah. Right. Besides, it’s Ken. He’s just so awesome. I’ve really been hoping for them. I can’t wait to call her and get all the details.”

  “You knew about this?”

  “No. But I’ve had an idea he likes her and I kept hoping he’d get his butt in gear and find a way to let her know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  The long-suffering sigh that greeted her was as melodramatic as the kids’ complaints when she’d made them run another drill. “That Ken likes my grandmother. I could have talked to him.”

  Anger sparked under her skin at the continued evidence of his stubborn, pig-headed reaction. While she’d grant him the surprising nature of how he found them, his blindness to the fact that his grandmother had the normal, healthy, human urge to love a man and be loved by that man in return wasn’t negotiable.

  “You can stop being an asshole about it anytime.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Oh come on, Roman. She’s more than able to make her own decisions.”

  “But—” He broke off and she didn’t miss the rising anger that matched hers.

  “What’s really bothering you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then why are you acting like an ass?”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Obviously.”

  Before she could press him or try to get to the bottom of his snit, he shoved off the boards and skated toward the kids, his whistle blowing in three hard, sharp bursts. The kids scrambled onto the ice at the urgent summons and if it weren’t for the fact that they needed a second chaperone to keep watch, she’d have left until Roman calmed down. Instead, she skated toward the water station in an attempt to cool off.

  A few moments later, she had a large paper cup of water in hand and enjoyed the cold, smooth slide down her throat.

  Julia and Ken?

  It was about damn time.

  She’d had a sense about the two of them. Had even tried to probe at Julia a time or two about her personal life, always to bump up against a gentle wall, full of No Trespassing signals.

  Avery was thrilled to think that Roman’s grandmother—a woman so wonderful and so deserving of love and companionship—had finally found someone. And as she thought about it, she realized she felt the same way for Doc Cloud. He was a lovely man—gentle and competent, sweet and dependable.

  They made a great match.

  Avery risked a glance at Roman again. His bad mood still emanated off him in waves, but he’d started to run a drill with the kids and she could only hope the physical activity would help matters.

  Yeah, coming in on his grandmother was a little shocking, but it wasn’t like she went on a massacre down Main Street. She was in love with a good man. That was something worth celebrating, not being angry about.

  Turning back to the ice, Avery watched Roman play. The same serious expression he’d worn at seventeen still etched across his face as he went in for a tough one-on-one or when he broke out of the pack, driving the puck down the ice.

  She didn’t miss the expression on the kids’ faces, either, as they all parted to the side and watched Mike and Roman skate down the ice. Ronnie’s kid brother had an ocean of potential and it was easy to see now that he was matched with someone of Roman’s skill and ability.

  The two of them raced down the ice, headed straight for the goal in front of where she sat. Electricity and excitement suddenly filled the rink as youth and eagerness met age and experience. Roman had the kid beat, but he was breathing hard as they paced next to each other.

  And then a huge shout went up as Mike sneaked in, his stick grabbing hold of the puck and catc
hing a skate in the process. Roman went flying, his body off the ice and in the air for what felt like an hour before he landed flat on his back.

  “Roman!”

  His large body lay still on the ice as Avery leaped off the bench and raced toward him. The boys circled around them, and without thinking, she started barking orders.

  “Stink. Go get my phone and call Doc Cloud. The number’s in there.”

  The kid nodded and raced off before she turned toward Brock. “Go get the clean towels next to the equipment bag and the first-aid kit.”

  Roman tried to sit up as she knelt down next to him. “Oh no, hang on there, big man.”

  “It’s fucking cold down here, Avery. I’m fine.”

  “Hold still.” She pressed on his shoulders, surprised to feel him pushing back against her so hard.

  “I said I’m fine. Let me up.”

  She gestured for the kids to move back and give him room. “Fine. Get your stubborn ass up.”

  The motion had the exact effect she expected. No sooner was he on his feet than he stumbled to a knee. She briefly thought about a concussion but was worried he’d do more damage to himself if he were agitated.

  “Let’s get him up and over to the benches.”

  Avery skated slowly behind the boys, who helped Roman to the bleachers, then took the requested towels and first-aid kit from Brock as they got Roman settled.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Forsyth. Really, I am.” Mike’s anxious face peered over a few pairs of shoulders, his blue eyes darting back and forth with worry.

  “It’s fine, Mike. I’m fine.” Roman brushed it off, but it did nothing to allay Avery’s fears, especially now that the blood ran freely down his cheek from a large gash in his forehead.

  Avery gently pressed one of the towels against the gash, reaching for his hand once she had it firmly in place. “Hold this here for a minute.”

  Roman nodded and it was enough to have her turning toward the boys. “Why don’t you guys move back a bit? Maybe go change out of your gear.”

  A chorus of agreement met her as the kids moved back onto the ice.

  Mike hovered a few extra moments and Avery looked at him with what she hoped was a gentle smile. “His head’s harder than you think, sweetie. He’s going to be fine.”

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “You were playing hard. Nothing to be sorry about.” Roman’s words were quiet, but firm, as he looked at the kid. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “Oh . . . okay.” Mike nodded. “I’ll just go get cleaned up then.”

  Avery opened the kit as the boys skated away and snagged a packet of gauze and some antiseptic. “I don’t know much but I do know you should only be seeing one of me.”

  “I see one of you.”

  She held up two fingers. “How many fingers?”

  “Jeez, Avery. I’m fine.”

  “Humor me then, because I’m not.”

  “Two. You’ve got two fingers up.” He lifted a hand to steady her shaking hand. “I’m fine. Really.”

  “I realize you’ve got the four-inch gash, but you weren’t the one who watched you go flying several feet off the ice.”

  His smile was lopsided as he looked up at her. “Not my first rodeo.”

  She ripped open the packet of gauze. “I think it was Mike’s. The kid’s shaken up.”

  “He’ll get over it. This happens.” That grin spread to a full smile before he winced at the movement. “And when he does, I’m quite sure the story will involve him kicking my ass.”

  “It’s a rite of passage.”

  “Exactly.”

  Hands steadier at the evidence he could think into the future, she wadded the gauze over an open bottle of antiseptic, soaking the cloth. “This is going to sting. Close your eyes.”

  She pressed lightly on the still-bleeding wound, nearly dropping the gauze when his knee knocked into hers as his entire body went still. “Fuck, that hurts.”

  “Which probably means it’s working. Ice is dirty.”

  “Thanks for the medical wisdom, Florence Nightingale.”

  She ignored the sarcasm and painted a heavy dose of Neosporin over the wound. Thankfully, he wasn’t bleeding as profusely, and she could see the wound didn’t look nearly as bad cleaned up.

  “Here. Press this new gauze over it and Doc Cloud can fix the rest.”

  “I’m sure I’m the last person he wants to see.”

  “Probably so.”

  Avery pulled some tape from the box and fastened the new gauze over the wound. It was a crude fix, but as she put on the last piece of tape, she was satisfied it would hold.

  “That was quite a spill.”

  “Mike’s faster than he looks.”

  “You’re no slouch, Roman, despite having almost twenty years on the kid. What really happened?”

  “He got the jump on me. There’s a lot of energy in those decades I’m spotting him.”

  “No, I don’t think that’s it at all.” Avery moved and took the seat next to him. “You can keep downplaying it all you want, but there’s something wrong. I was watching you. You never saw the kid.”

  Avery’s words echoed in his ears, and in the ringing void, Roman knew his moment of truth had arrived.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Even though he was right next to you.”

  “Even then. I knew he was physically there, but I never saw his stick move.”

  “Why not?”

  Roman took a deep breath as the words lodged in his throat in a heavy lump. “I had a big injury late in the season.”

  “The one against Buffalo.”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought you were fine.”

  A hard, bitter laugh inched out around the lump. “I’ve been telling everyone I was fine. My right eye has other ideas.”

  He stared out over the ice, the familiar look of the rink a taunting reminder of all he’d lost. The scent of ice and sweat surrounded him and for the first time since his injury, he felt close to tears.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I have no peripheral vision in that eye. And the likelihood of it coming back is slim.”

  “Oh my God. Roman.” Her hand gripped his. “Why haven’t you told me? Us? Does your mom know? Your grandmother?”

  “Nope. No one. I wanted to see if it came back and there was no reason to get everyone upset.”

  “You can’t play anymore.”

  “Thanks for the news flash, Ave.”

  “I mean it. If you’re this at risk in practice, you’re going to get killed in a game. You’re lucky you haven’t already.”

  He knew there was concern underlying her words—he felt it in the tight grip she had on his hand and the way she rubbed his lower back with her free hand.

  But in that moment, he couldn’t have cared less.

  “Thanks for the fucking pep talk.”

  “What?”

  He stood, the anger growing even hotter as a flash of nausea welled in his stomach at the sudden movement.

  “I’m well aware of my options, sweetheart. They’re figuratively crystal clear, even if I can’t fucking see them.”

  “Roman. What’s wrong with you?” Hurt widened her dark eyes into large saucers but his own hurt and anger and frustration was so huge he couldn’t pull himself back.

  Or calm down.

  “You have no idea. What it’s like to lose something like this.”

  “I don’t know about loss?”

  “Not loss like this.”

  The hurt mutated—transformed in an instant—and she was on her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. “Don’t tell me I don’t know what it’s like to lose something. I’m sorry you’re going through this and I’m sorry this is how you’re going to end your career, but whatever you do, don’t stand there and tell me I don’t know about loss.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Not the same?” Her voice edged up a few octaves as it echoed off the metal bleachers
. “The day you left here I might as well have lost a body part it hurt so bad. Whether physical or emotional, loss is loss.”

  “I have no future.”

  “If you truly believe that you’re a bigger ass than I’ve ever given you credit for.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “No, Roman. You don’t understand.”

  Avery felt the anger recede from her body, like water down a drain, as it was replaced with something empty and cold.

  Indifference.

  She’d spent years upset over losing Roman—wondering if she could have made different choices. Done something different.

  No more.

  “The human experience includes loss, Roman. It also includes heartbreak, death and sadness. You’ve tried to ignore that for fourteen years.”

  “I haven’t ignored anything.”

  “Oh no? Expensive gifts? Rare visits? How would you define your behavior?”

  “I’ve had a life.”

  “An empty one, if all you’ve said in the last week is any indication.”

  “It’s my life. My choices.”

  She nodded, the underlying truth of his words harsh. “Yes.”

  “You don’t understand. You didn’t grow up with a ticking clock.”

  “Life has a clock.”

  “Not like mine.” He shook his head and she saw him search for the words, his face a hard mask.

  “No one tells you what professional athletics are like. They’re the holy grail. The brass ring. They’re also terrifying.”

  “That’s true of any profession. You think I wasn’t nervous at the conference?”

  “But in your case, each year brings more experience. More wisdom. Makes you better.”

  “You’re better now than you were in your twenties.”

  “And I’m also worse.”

  Avery sensed that understanding whatever he was trying to say was important, so she left off with the questions.

  “Do you know I peaked professionally at twenty-eight?” His hands clenched on his knees and his eyes misted as bitter memories rose up in his gaze. “That was the year I skated the fastest. Had the lowest body fat. Had the quickest reaction time. Every year after that has been a decline.”

  “You’re still considered at the top of your game.”

  “I know myself and I know I’m not. So I work harder, run harder, play harder, all in hopes of outrunning the inevitable.”