Page 212 of Saving Forever with the Hockey Captain

When I finish, Liam is quiet for several seconds.

"Cap?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't know much."

"I'll alert the newspapers."

"I know hockey."

"So do I."

"And I know people."

I wait. "When somebody who always skates toward you suddenly starts skating away..." He lets the sentence hang. "...don't ignore it."

The words settle heavily. "Any idea why?"

"No."

He sighs. "But if it's bothering Captain Walker..." His voice softens. "...it's probably worth finding out."

I end the call a few minutes later. The porch is quiet again, and across the lake, the last light of afternoon glitters across the water. I think about the past few months.

The coffee.

The walks.

The laughter.

The way Annette always looked directly at me when we talked, as though the rest of the world could wait.

Now she's still there. Still smiling. Still helping me heal. But somehow, she feels farther away than she did the day we met.

For the first time since beginning rehabilitation...

I'm not worried about my shoulder. I'm worried about losing something I don't yet know how to name.

***

The cabin is unusually quiet that evening.

I set my keys on the kitchen counter, feed the starter for tomorrow's coffee, and walk to the desk in the corner of the living room.

The notebook is exactly where I left it. For months it has become part of the end of every day.

Three questions. Three simple reminders.

I open to a blank page. The pen rests in my hand for a long moment.

Today's Win

Normally the answer comes easily.

Finished another therapy session.

Skated a little longer.