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I decide to tease him instead. “Things sometimes take surprising turns, Senna. You wait and see.”
He gives me a big smile and finishes his meal. I still have half of corndog left and I’m not feeling hungry anymore. I offer it to him, and he takes it gladly.
Amanda finds us a few minutes later. She comes alone, oblivious that I saw her. She kisses Senna on the cheek, squeezing him so hard that he squeals.
“Mom, too tight!” he complains, pushing her away.
“I just missed you,” she grins, ruffling his hair.
She sits with us, an arm around her son, looking happier than I’ve ever seen her. “It looks like you two had a good time.”
Amanda kisses the top of Senna’s head, making him blush.
I know she took advantage of the event to have a quiet date with her new love interest. I won't bring it up now, especially not in front of her son, but she will have to tell me everything later.
“Everybody ready to leave?” Amanda asks.
“I have to stay until everything is disassembled to make sure everything goes back to the right place,” I reply, and she nods.
“Let’s go find your father, then!” She taps Senna on the shoulder, and he jumps off the bench.
Amanda turns back to me. “See you at the hotel?”
I roll my eyes and sigh, “See you who knows when… I’m going to be swamped with work for a while.”
“Oof!” she fans herself. “I’ll text you later then.”
I say goodbye to them. Left alone, I start to entertain the idea of giving Senna a little brother.
Senna has shown he can be jealous, but he’s also sweet. If it’s a little sister, he’ll protect her tooth and nail, that’s for sure. Lost in thought, it’s nearly half an hour later when I finally get off the bench and start to help take everything down.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ETHAN
The coach’s anger subsides with time, but it takes three games. That, and the fact that Jameson’s got micro-fractures in his ankle. Either way, I’m back on the starting team, though there’s a rookie from the bench being groomed to take my place if I get injured again.
Tonight, we’re up against the Buffalo Kings. Ruslav zips around the ice with the puck, refusing to pass to anyone.
“Hey Ruslav!” I yell at him. He looks at me, startled. “Pass the puck!”
Raphael chimes in, “Stop hogging it!”
“Uh, sorry!” Ruslav replies.
He’s about to pass the puck in our direction, but the opposing team’s wingers tackle him and steal the puck, taking advantage of his distraction.
I race after it, but not even rockets on my skates could get me there in time. Luckily, Riker delivers a solid body check, steals the puck, and sends it back to me.
I pass it to Raphael. Their left defenseman tries to stop him, but Raphael dodges him like a slippery eel. Ruslav calls for the puck, and since he’s cornered, Raphael obliges.
Finally, I call for Ruslav to pass it to me, but the puck-hungry rookie takes a chance and goes for the winning goal, scoring and reveling in the glory.
I join in the celebration but realize that at twenty-eight, I might be starting to feel the pressure from the younger players. Raphael and I are among the oldest on the team, while Ruslav is just nineteen. As long as I can hold my spot on the starting lineup and stay healthy, I’ll keep on playing.
Retirement is not in my plans for now.
The girls and the kids are waiting by the locker room. I have a sip of champagne with Senna hanging from my neck, and he’s sulking once again that Mia isn’t there.
