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“Good!” She gave herself a mental pat on the back as the ripping of paper resumed.

“And the second gift is…a pair of gloves! Lemme just…” Muffled sounds travelled through the phone. “Sorry, had to place the receiver between my ear and shoulder to try them on. These are nice! Thick, sturdy. They’d make ideal mudlarking gloves.”

Georgie beamed. “That’s why I got ’em! So you won’t cut yourself digging.”

“They’ll definitely do the trick. I need a new pair, too.” Several rips of paper filled his pause. “Ohh, wow! Only the book on mudlarking.” He laughed and sneezed at the same time.

“Bless you,” said Georgie.

“I’ve been meaning to buy this one. Ahh Bug, you’re brilliant. I’ve never had such a well-thought-out present before.”

“I’ve never had such an amazing boyfriend. I adore you and your quirks.”

“Right back at ya, gorgeous.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, your turn.”

Cradling the phone in the crook of her neck, Georgie carefully popped the taped edges of the cute wrapping with her index finger, exposing a small white #10 sewn onto blue fabric. Her heart fizzed. “Holy sh—!” Eyes bulging, she tore away the paper, her scramble sending the phone flying as she grasped the blue Leafs sweater and unfurled its magnificence. Stingy tears gathered in her eyes, blurring the large #10 stitched onto the back. “Oh my god,” she whispered into a gasp. Lowering the jersey, she lunged across the bed, grabbing the phone. “Ollie, how’d you…?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about the sweater you wore to your first game with your dad,” said Oliver. “I asked Michael where I could buy a new one and he helped me with the custom order. He swears it’s like the jersey your mum made years ago.”

“It is!” Georgie sniffed. “Only adult size and official!” She ran her fingers along the Leafs logo. “Oliver, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m so glad you like it. I figured you’d rather have a jersey over a purse or perfume.”

“God, yeah!” She wiped her eyes. “This is practical.”

Oliver laughed.

“I can’t wait to wear it!” Georgie hugged the sweater. “Thank you so much! It’s absolutely perfect and special and something I’ve wanted for ages! I might even sleep in it.” As her nighttime plans left her lips, a swell of embarrassment pooled in her gut. “Or not.” She scoffed, pretending to laugh it off. “I mean, how old am I? Five?”

“If you love it that much, why not? Georgie, there’s no need to censor yourself around me.” Oliver cleared his throat. “You loving the things you love, in your own way, is a beautiful thing.”

“Even if it’s, dun-dun-duuun”—she laughed—“hockey?”

“Especially hockey,” he replied warmly. “I can’t say I understand the appeal, but seeing how it brings you joy brings me joy.”

Oh, Ollie…! An ache weighed heavily in Georgie’s chest as she flopped against the bed’s headboard, bringing the jersey with her. While she loved the sweater with all her heart, it couldn’t compete with her deepening feelings for the man who’d given it to her. “Here I am with the most amazing gift, hearing you say the loveliest things, and I can’t kiss you, and I’m dying to—and so much more!”

“Soon, Bug.” A hint of a smile sailed through the phone. “Very soon.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

OLIVER

Thirteen days later, Friday, January 8, 1993

Leafs record: 16 wins, 17 losses, 7 ties (in overtime)

Scaling the steps to Georgie’s seats in the rafters of Maple Leaf Gardens, Oliver held back a laugh as he carried their coats and her popcorn sprinkled with M&Ms. You know you’re desperate to see your girlfriend when you’re happy to be in a crowd at a hockey game!

Georgie glanced over the shoulder, which bore his Christmas present, her #10 jersey, with an exuberant grin, just missing his headshake of disbelief. “Whatcha think?”

Oliver smiled as she ended her climb at row E, taking her in. “That you look adorable in that sweater.”

She laughed. “Aw thanks, Ol, but I mean the arena.”

“Oh…” His gaze swept the sections of colourful seats. “It’s definitely larger than I expected.”

Georgie danced on the spot. “The Gardens is my church. The centre of my universe. My spiritual home!” She gestured down toward the ice surface with their soft drinks. “How’s that for a view?”