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What we didn’t have a surplus of was everything else. Over the years, the amount of equipment had decreased, all while the demand increased. Every kit I had put together was in the hands of a child or youth in need, and although we expected to receive a few returns, those participants would be looking to exchange for a different size.
We always needed at least one kit in every size. And since I’d started, I had yet to see the equipment room looking even half full. I felt like I had joined Power Play when it had already begun sinking, and I was simply weighing that ship down.
“Where did all of this come from?” Andrew asked, stopping in his tracks so quickly that his brown shoes squeaked against the linoleum in the porch. The coffee in his mug swayed, teetering dangerously close to spilling.
“The store.” I continued down the hall to the equipment room, rolling two kits behind me.
“Did you rob the place?”
“Thought about it.”
“Jessa Marie,” Andrew boomed.
I stopped walking and turned sheepishly toward my boss. I hated it when he used his dad voice on me. He didn’t have kids. He didn’t need them when he treated me like I was one of his own, especially when I acted like a damn child.
“Where did the kits come from?” He enunciated each word, a gentle prod for more information.
I relented. “I was looking at prices, trying to get an estimate for you if we needed to purchase new equipment, and I met up with…Zach.”
“Zach?” Andrew pushed further.
He needed more, but I was only willing to give him so much. I was going to leave out the fact that onlyonekit was bought by Zach, and I had paid for the other eight.
“Renshaw.”
“You’re kidding,” Andrew laughed and blew out a steady breath. “Zach Renshaw bought these?”
“Uh… yes?”
Andrew looked positively tickled pink. He was grinning, something I hadn’t seen him do in quite a while, and he nodded at the bags. “How many?”
“Nine?”
“I’ll be damned,” he shook his head, still wearing that unusual grin. “I was Zach’s coach when he was in minor hockey. Good kid, fast skater. Bit of a puck hog, but damn…”
I blinked at my boss, unsure what to even say, because now my arms were going numb and I felt like a snake for lying to him.
“Small world,” I opted for, and continued my little journey to the equipment room. “Zach and a few of his teammates are renting my old apartment. Then I ran into him at the store, and he offered.”
Andrew followed me, and I grimaced as he continued the conversation.
“Zach was in Power Play when he was small, you know. Our executive director sucked at the time, and instead of keeping quiet about who was from Power Play, he told me and the assistant coach so we could keep an eye on the poor kids. Jackass,” he muttered, and placed a hand on the shelf next to me, resting his weight against the metal frame. “Good kid. Determined to be in the NHL.”
“Well, he’s halfway there. How did the meeting go with the board?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.
I was having a hard time pretending Iwasn’thanging on Andrew’s every word, enjoying learning more about the man who offered to pay six hundred dollars for a single junior kit. I had been flustered and totally out of my element when he’d popped up and controlled the entire situation, the cart, the equipment, the bill—all of it. All I was able to do was watch, confused but also intrigued.
I had watched what he had picked for each item, opting for the black and green Bauer Vapor 3X Pro for every piece of equipment. Whoever received that kit was going to be the best outfitted kid on the team, all thanks to Zach.
Andrew started fiddling with the thermostat, avoiding my question about the board entirely. “Has this thing always made that annoying noise?”
“Yes. What did the board say?”
My boss sighed, and his hand dropped away from the thermostat. “We have less than we thought after we pay all outstanding invoices. We’ve got about three grand to work with, kiddo.”
“Shit.”
“Shit is right.”
