Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
When I opened them again, I turned to Jacob. “You wanna know how to hold it?”
Excitement flickered in Jacob’s eyes. I handed him the stick, bending down in front of him. He was a small kid, but right then I saw a hint of life flicker back into his sad eyes. “Put one hand on the top,” I said, mimicking how Cillian had taught me all those years ago. “And this one here,” I said, hearing emotion clogging my voice as I directed his hand. “How does that feel?” I asked, just trying to sit within this surreal moment and not let it break me.
“Good,” Jacob said, and I felt the air around us shimmer. It really did feel like Cillian was right here with me. I really wanted to believe he was.
“Good,” I said and ruffled Jacob’s hair. I grabbed the bucket of balls and the makeshift nets that had been thrown together too. I set them up and helped Jacob learn how to maneuver the stick, how to keep control, how to sink the ball into the net. It wasn’t ice hockey, didn’t really resemble it in any way, but it was something.
It wasn’t until Jacob scored and threw his hands up in the air that I realized everyone had stopped to watch us. Dylan went to the shed and pulled out the rest of the hockey sticks. Before he did, he met my eyes as if to silently ask, “Is this okay?” I nodded, feeling like it truly was, and Dylan handed out the sticks to the other kids. They waited with bated breath for my instruction. Looking to the side, I saw Savannah watching me with watery eyes.
“Peaches,” I said and waved. “Get over here.” Her cheeks blazed as she walked over, hating being under any kind of attention. I took a stick from Dylan. I steered Savannah in front of me and stood behind her. I showed the kids how to hold the stick, using Savannah as my example. I kept my chest to her back, moving her hands, sneaking soft kisses to her cheeks when the kids weren’t looking.
When the kids were off practicing, monitored by the rest of our friends, Savannah’s hand rested on my arm.
“You okay?” she asked. “That must have been hard for you.”
“Yeah,” I said, and I knew she could hear the rawness in my voice. “But it also felt good.” I gripped the stick tighter. I opened my mouth to say something but then stopped.
“What?” Savannah said, refusing to let me close in on myself.
“It felt …” I took a deep breath. “It felt like he was with me. Just now.” I kept my eyes cast down, feeling stupid. Savannah’s hand landed on my cheek. She guided my face up until I met her eyes.
“Then he was,” she said with absolute conviction. “I believe it with my whole heart. We’re all part of the world, our own energies. Even when we pass, that energy remains.” She shrugged. “I think that’s why we feel them with us at times. Maybe their energy stays close by. It remembers us.”
I drew Savannah to my chest and wrapped my arms around her, keeping her as close as possible.
A throat cleared beside us. When I released Savannah, Leo was there holding a hockey stick. “I may not have been part of Team USA’s development team like some, but I know how to play a little … if you’re game?” Savannah laughed, and I couldn’t help the crack of a smile that tugged on my lips.
“You sure you’re not too old?” I said, feeling a flare of lightness pass through my body as I cracked that joke.
Leo pointed the end of the stick at me. “For that, I won’t go easy on you.”
“Clear the yard!” Travis shouted, overhearing the challenge and positioning the nets at either end. He placed a ball in the center. I moved to it for the face-off. I looked over at Savannah on the sidelines, and she had a hand over her heart and tears in her eyes as she watched me.
That girl was perfect.
Leo smiled at me competitively, and then Travis blew a whistle he had found in the shed. And I was off. For the next twenty minutes, sweat dripping down my face and back, I wiped the floor with Leo, running around the yard, stick in hand and sinking the ball into the net so many times I lost count. I mourned the lack of ice and skates on my feet, the bite of coldness on my skin. But I felt more myself in that moment than I had in over a year.
Leo bent down, a wave of surrender cast in the air. But I didn’t stop. Even as the kids went back into the school for class, I stayed out on that yard, practicing until I was exhausted and the sun was threatening to give me sunstroke.