Page 9 of A Match Made In Fall

I feel like I’m moving through a fog as they take X-rays, run through the exam, and explain the latest update on my recovery. The whole appointment is a blur of medical terms and waiting for someone to tell me what comes next.

When the doctor finally says I can trade the crutches for a walking boot, a wave of relief rushes through me. I never thought I’d be excited about wearing an ugly gray boot, but after weeks of feeling dependent on those crutches, this feels like a huge step in the right direction.

It’s far from ideal. I’m not back to normal, and not even close to the dance floor. But at least I’m not stuck on the couch in front of the TV anymore. The boot is bulky and impossible to ignore, but it’s progress, and I’ll take it.

CHAPTER FOUR

AUSTIN

“Does Denton seriously think we’re amateurs?” I mutter under my breath to Nick as Coach continues pacing in front of us like we’re in a high-pressure playoff game instead of a fall festival.

It’s the day of the annual Community Fall Fest and Parade, which means the entire team has been stuck listening to Coach Denton deliver yet another detailed speech he’s famous for.

“Remember,” Coach demands, pointing like he’s addressing us in the locker room, “you represent this organization every second you are out there today. Just keep smiling, waving, and engaging with the fans like they are your own family members.”

Nick leans closer to me. “I think he really loves the sound of his own voice.”

I snort. “Good point.”

Every year the Bears kick off the start of the season by participating in the town’s fall festival parade. It’s become a huge tradition. Thousands of people line up dressed in their fall attire, ready to kick off the ‘ber’ months (as my mom calls them).

The team walks the parade route waving to fans and tossing out candy, mini hockey pucks, T-shirts, hats, and other Bears merchandise the marketing department ordered. And the fans love it, both the kids and adults.

“You’d think after all these years they’d realize the people are here for free stuff, not us,” I say.

Nick shrugs. “Speak for yourself. I’m beloved by the community. It’s been said that I’m the best trade in years.”

“And by community, do you mean your fiancée, Abby?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I laugh.

The festival itself is your typical fall activity. There are food trucks lined up offering Carolina BBQ, kettle corn, cider donuts, beverages, and all forms of less than healthy snacks. There’s also painting stations, carnival games, hayrides, live music, and more.

After the parade, we’re scheduled for a press interview on the main stage followed by a meet and greet with fans. Which really means taking eight hundred photos with kids, swooning women, and die-hard hockey fans. Personally, I always enjoy this event.

There’s something fun about seeing the city this excited for hockey season again. The fans show up every year decked out in Bears gear, completely convinced this is going to be our season. The optimism is impressive and hopefully it translates to us when we’re back on the ice.

Coach finally claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s move.”

The team starts toward the parade lineup, and we all grab bags of candy and boxes of merch.

As we turn the corner onto the main road, the noise hits instantly—music blasting from speakers, kids laughing, people cheering from behind barricades.

Nick whistles. “Wow, there are a lot of people.”

I grin despite myself. “Always. This town takes their festivals very seriously.”

Almost immediately, fans start yelling our names.

I point to some kids sitting along the curbs and toss them hockey pucks from the swag box. The kids react like Santa has visited on Christmas morning. Who doesn’t love freebies?

“Okay,” Nick admits beside me. “This is a little fun.”

“There’s the attitude change we’ve been waiting for,” I say, smiling as the crowd erupts farther down the street. “Abby will be so proud.”

“She will—can you tell her?” he asks.