“Hey, Avery,” Tristan said with a smile then looked at the boys. “You two ready to go?”
“Yes,” they replied in unison.
Kenton grinned. “Looks like the jerseys fit you both well.”
“Thank you very much for them,” Elliot said, and Avery had to smile as she saw him trying to restrain his excitement.
Benjie didn’t bother to try, bouncing from one foot to the other. “Yes. Thanks!”
“You’ll get a good look at the guys who wear those numbers,” Kenton said. “Our seats are right behind the Jets’ bench.”
Benjie froze, his head swiveling between the two men. “Right behind them?”
“Oh…wow…” Elliot said, his eyes wide.
“But first, we’re going for supper,” Kenton told them with a nod toward the door. “So we’d better get going.”
“You’ll take care of my boys, right?”
They all turned to see her mom standing at the entrance to the foyer. Avery heard the waver in her mom’s voice and went to slip an arm around her waist. “They’ll be fine, Mom.”
“I’ll text you when we get to the restaurant,” Kenton said. “And then again when we leave there for the arena. How about we just keep you abreast of our evening as we go?”
For a moment, Avery wondered if Kenton was aware of her mom’s issues but didn’t know how that would be possible. Regardless, she was grateful that he seemed willing to keep them up-to-date during their night out.
“We’ll have them back to you safe and sound,” Tristan said with a reassuring smile. “I’m driving a brand-new Land Rover tonight.”
“Really?” Avery asked.
“Kenton decided that he wanted to purchase a vehicle to drive while he’s here, but he couldn’t be bothered with a normal car, he had to get a Land Rover Discovery Luxury. Lucky me, he’s not driving yet, so I get to. We’ll be safe on the road.”
Avery felt some of the tension ease out of her mom. “You boys are going to have quite the evening of firsts. Have fun in that brand-new vehicle.”
“It’s fully loaded, so we’re all going to have fun,” Tristan said. “So let’s buckle up and head out.”
Once the boys were in their boots and jackets, Tristan took them out to the car. Kenton stayed behind then turned to face her.
“Hope you don’t worry about the boys too much. We’ll take good care of them. I promise.” His smile was filled with understanding, and it weakened her knees. “I hope you can relax and enjoy your own evening.”
“I think we will. Thank you again for taking them.” She paused then asked, “Could you take some pictures of them for us?”
“No worries. Lots of pictures coming up. So many pictures you’ll get tired of them.”
Avery couldn’t help but smile. “I look forward to seeing them.”
“See you later.”
She moved to the open doorway to watch as he made his way along the walk to where a dark-colored vehicle was parked in the driveway. He settled into the passenger seat, then gave a final wave before closing the door. She didn’t step back into the house until they’d pulled away.
Closing the door, she turned back around to find her mom watching her with a wary—yet knowing—look. Not wanting to start a conversation on what was no doubt going around in her head, Avery walked back toward the kitchen.
“Caroline and Lila should be here soon. I’ll get the pots going for the meat.”
The first text came through fifteen minutes later.
Made it to the restaurant. Hope the boys are hungry!
She texted back to thank him and assure him that the boys were always hungry. They were mid-way through cooking their meat and vegetables with Caro and Lila when another text came through. This one was a picture of the boys with large platters in front of them, each with a big burger and a mountain of French fries.
The smiles on their faces told Avery how much they were enjoying themselves, and she allowed herself to relax a little more even though they were out without her. Even her mom seemed more at ease once she saw the picture of them with their food. Maybe this was going to be a good evening for all of them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Kenton watched both boys tuck into their burgers and fries. Initially, he was amazed at their appetites but then he remembered what he’d been like at their age. His mom had often said she was worried they’d end up in the poor house trying to feed six boys.
“Have you been to a game before?” Kenton asked after the boys had eaten a few bites of their burgers.
“No,” Benjie said. “I don’t have a dad to take me, and Grandad died like three years ago. Elliot’s dad. He’s really my uncle. Did you know that?”
Benjie’s casual comment about not having a dad caught Kenton off-guard. He’d suspected a possible divorce, but he hadn’t thought that there was no dad involved at all. He glanced at Elliot. Benjie was so upfront about the loss of his grandfather. Three years ago would have been when Benjie was just seven, so perhaps his memories of him weren’t that intense. Elliot, on the other hand, would have been twelve. No doubt he missed the man more keenly.
Elliot picked up a French fry, but instead of eating it, he tore it in two and swirled it around in the ketchup. “Dad didn’t really like to go to the games. He said he found it more comfortable to sit in his recliner and watch on his big screen TV.”
“I would have to say that your dad was a smart man,” Tristan said. “Those arena seats aren’t the most comfortable.”
“I hope you enjoy going to your first game,” Kenton said, really wanting the boys to have the time of their lives.
As the conversation turned to Benjie’s games, Elliot perked up a bit, but Kenton could still see sadness lingering in his eyes. Tristan—who was usually a man of few words—was an active participant in the conversation. Even holding up Kenton’s end when he fell silent. The thought that these two boys—his biggest fans—had no men in their lives to do things like take them to hockey games hit him hard.
His dad had been a steadying force in his life. He knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t be where he was if it hadn’t been for Steve Callaghan. And he knew the role his dad had played in Bennett and Ryan’s lives when he and Emily had gotten married. Even before that, actually. When his dad had gone over to help repair Emily’s house, Bennett had been eager to spend time with him, learning how to do the handiwork. It was no surprise years later that Bennett had been the one who had taken over when his dad had stepped down from his position with C&M Builders.
From their conversation about Benjie’s practices and games, Kenton knew that Avery took the time, energy, and money to support her son’s passion. He admired her for that. Even more so because of what he knew about her mom’s inability—or unwillingness—to leave the house.
“Who are you going to cheer for tonight, Kenton?” Benjie asked.
Elliot followed up with, “Does your team know you’re going to be there?”
“Well, Benjie, to answer your question, I’m going to cheer every great play, regardless of who makes them. And Elliot, I told my best friend on the team that I’d be at the game.”
Benjie paused with his burger held partway to his mouth. “Who’s your best friend?”
“Vlad Stepanov.” Kenton laughed at Benjie’s expression. “Dude, if your eyes keep getting big like that, they’re gonna stay that way.”
Immediately, the boy tried to scrunch his eyes narrower while still keeping them open. They all laughed, and Kenton was glad to see the last of the heaviness leave Elliot’s features.
“If you say hi to him, can we meet him too?”
“We’ll see what can be arranged.”
“This is so hard,” Elliot said.
Tristan frowned. “What is?”
“We’re Jets fans, but we’re also fans of some of the Kings players—just not all of them.”
“Yeah,” Benjie agreed with a scowl. “Especially not that new guy, Travis O’Neal. He’s a punk.”
Once they were done eating, Kenton settled the bill, then they made their way to the arena. The arena wasn’t far, but with the snowy sidewalks, it wasn’t fun maneuvering the crutches. Tristan took care of showing the tickets and then leading the way to their seats since he was familiar with where they were located. Once there, he made sure that Kenton had the aisle seat so he could stretch his leg out and could also get up and down if people needed to get past him into their row. They were seated behind the Jets’ bench but had a good view of the Kings’ bench as well.
“Want to come with me to get drinks?” Tristan asked the boys.
They eagerly agreed and left Kenton at their seats. He’d pulled on a ball cap once they’d left the restaurant as he didn’t necessarily want to be recognized. Though he supposed that at some point, someone was bound to notice him. He and Tristan had come up with a plan if he got noticed and had to deal with any media or fans, but he hoped they didn’t have to implement it, especially with the boys there.
Once he had settled in his seat, he kept his head low as he texted Avery.
We’re at the arena. The boys ate all their supper and have now gone with Tristan to get snacks and drinks. Where do they put it?
Avery: I have no clue. There are times I’d like to have them xrayed to see if they really do have a couple of hollow legs.
Well, hopefully when we return them to you, they won’t be hungry!
“KC!”
At the sound of his nickname, Kenton looked up to see Vlad standing on the ice near the glass. He touched the front of his cap then held out his fist. Vlad returned the gesture then skated away. Kenton smiled, happy to have made contact with his friend.
The smile dimmed though, as he watched the rest of the players on the ice, circling around with sticks in their hands. Being away from his home in LA and the team, it had been easy—well, easier—to pretend it was just the off-season. Now, however, watching his teammates go through their pre-game warm-up, Kenton felt the loss of his ability to skate, keenly. He wanted—no, needed—to be back on the ice.
He’d thought he was dealing with his injury okay, but as O’Neal flashed by, a cocky grin on his face, Kenton felt anger swell inside him. He had done everything correctly. He’d played the game wisely. And for over ten years, he’d been fine. Until he wasn’t. Though the doctors assured him it was possible to come back completely from the injury, as he stared down at the outline of the brace beneath his jeans, Kenton wondered once again if he might be the one who didn’t make it back.
His thoughts went back to the phone call he’d gotten as he’d laid on his couch in the days following his surgery. I’m not saying to take it while you’re actively skating, but it will help you heal better. Help you regain your strength faster. It helped me, man. Just think about it.
“Oh wowwww…”
Kenton looked over to see Benjie standing frozen beside him, his gaze locked on the players circling the ice. He pushed to his feet and moved into the aisle so that Tristan could go in followed by Elliot. Benjie looked up at him when Kenton laid a hand on his shoulder.
“You can still see them from your seat,” he said with a smile.
Benjie nodded his head and then, with his drink clutched in one hand and a pack of Twizzlers in the other, he settled on the edge of his seat. Kenton helped him get settled so that he didn’t spill his drink then took the one that Tristan leaned forward to hand him.
The only thing that helped chase away his depressing thoughts was watching Benjie and Elliot experience their first live hockey game. He took pictures throughout the game and texted them to Avery. This was something that he wanted her to be a part of too, even though she wasn’t there with them physically.
He hated that his injury had robbed him of his love of watching a professional hockey game, and even though he’d told the boys he’d cheer for every good play, he just couldn’t bring himself to do that for any of O’Neal’s plays. He noticed that even though Benjie cheered loudest for the Jets, he did cheer for the Kings as well—except O’Neal. That the little guy would stand in solidarity against the player who had taken over his position touched Kenton.
Even as Benjie and Elliot were his biggest fans, Kenton was finding that he was rapidly becoming fans of them too. He really hoped that he would be able to attend one of Benjie’s games and cheer the young guy on.
As the minutes ticked down, Benjie and Elliot screamed their lungs out as the Jets pushed for a goal to keep them from having to go into overtime. Kenton found himself yelling along with them and the rest of the fans in the arena. It was loud, and even though he wasn’t on the ice, he felt a familiar pump of adrenaline through his veins. He hoped that someday he’d be able to skate knowing that Benjie and Elliot were in the arena cheering him on.
It was weird to be on this side of the glass, feeling the momentum building in the arena as the fans willed the players to skate faster, shoot more precisely, to get them the goal they needed to take the win. As much as it pained him to see his team playing without him, Kenton found that being there like that was reviving his love of the game as a form of entertainment.
He had been so focused on playing the game well. On playing it with precision and living his life to maximize his ability to do that. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost his passion for the game. He’d lost his ability to have fun as he played it. Hockey had become a job. One that he loved, but a job nonetheless.
As much as he’d brought the boys for their sake, Kenton ended up enjoying himself immensely. Even more so because the team of his youth—the team Benjie and Elliot were rooting for—won.
The players left the ice, and the fans were quickly exiting the arena. Kenton told the boys to stay seated since they would be going to meet the players once the crowd had thinned a bit.
Staring at the empty ice, Kenton’s realization of his love for the game as a spectator hadn’t lessened his determination to get back on the ice or to do it at the level he once played at, but it had helped him remember why he did what he did. It was for the boy he’d once been. The boy who—like Benjie and Elliot—had loved the game. He had been fortunate that his dad had been able to afford the time and the money to bring him to games when he’d been their age. And maybe he could make a deal with Tristan that he would continue to take them to games once Kenton was back in LA.
A hand landed on his shoulder. “Hey, man.”
Kenton angled his head up to see who was standing next to him, grinning when he recognized one of the assistant coaches from the Kings. He grabbed his crutches and got to his feet, holding his hand out to the man. “Good to see you.”
“I’ve been given instructions to bring you down.”
“Are you sure? I’d rather not face the media,” he told the man.
“It’ll be fine. You know they’re more focused on the home team right now anyway. Especially since they won. They’ve already got the guys from our team to interview.” The man grinned. “We’ll get you in.”
“All of us, right?” Kenton said with a nod toward Tristan and the boys. He knew it was out of the ordinary to have visitors in the dressing room, so he was thankful for Vlad and whoever else might have made this possible for them.
“Yep. All four of you.”
Tugging his cap down lower, Kenton moved out into the aisle and waited for the boys and Tristan to exit the row. He followed slowly behind them on his crutches, keeping his gaze on the floor as they moved up the aisle. Thankfully, there weren’t a lot of people left to impede their progress. Most of the fans were more focused on getting out of the arena than on trying to spot an injured Kings player.
It took them a bit, but soon they were walking into the room the Kings players were using. Kenton wasn’t sure why his stomach felt knotted, but it was. Once safe from being recognized by the media or fans, Kenton switched his hat around so
the bill was in the back. All it took then was one person to spot him, and a cheer went up.
“KC, man! Good to see you!” Vlad came across the room to greet them, pulling Kenton into a sweaty hug. “Missed seeing your ugly mug around.”
“Right back attcha, dude.”
The guys on the team were quick to come and greet him, and slowly the knot in his gut loosened. Even the coach gave him a quick hug.
“And who do we have here?” the older man asked as he looked behind Kenton.
Shifting on his crutches, Kenton introduced Tristan and the boys to the coach and the handful of players who were still hanging around. The guys were happy to shake hands and give high fives to the boys.
“Well, if it isn’t the injured star.”
Kenton could have taken the teasing words from any of his fellow players, but hearing it said with a mocking tone set his teeth on edge.
“Rude!”
Kenton looked over to see Benjie with his hands on his hips, glaring at Travis O’Neal.
“Who are you?” Travis demanded, his face flushed. “Aside from a rude kid.”
“Yeah, I’m a kid, so that can be my excuse for being rude, but what’s yours?”
Kenton thought about stepping in, but when he glanced at Vlad, his friend gave a slight shake of his head. Quite a few of the guys were standing there watching, most with grins on their faces.
“I don’t need an excuse.”
“So you’re just a rude person in general?” Benjie tilted his head. “That must make you lots of friends.”
“I’ve got plenty of friends,” Travis said, glancing at the small crowd of players around them.
Benjie looked around as well. “I hope you’re right, or you just might find yourself without people to watch your back when you need them.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“See, my coach teaches me that we’re all a team and that there’s no room for rudeness or ego on a team. We win as a team. We lose as a team. And while one person can’t win a game by themselves, one person can definitely make the team lose.”
Crossing Center Ice Page 13
