Our Overtime: Ice League Book 1 (The Ice League Series)
Our Overtime: Chapter 3

I made my way up the metal bleachers, shoving my hands further in the pockets of my Louis Vuitton wrap coat- a present from my now ex-husband. I should use the word “present” lightly anyway, since I had known it was more for appearances than a true gift for me. I had to chuckle wryly to myself. I would have never worn a jacket like this before him, and as soon as it was worn out, I’d never wear one like it again. Before him I wouldn’t have really thought or cared about labels. Yeah, they were nice to wear because they were usually of better quality, but it wasn’t a priority. It was 100% a priority to him though and it was definitely a priority to my grandparents. Even our son, Canyon, had to be dressed to the nines every time they came around, which- I thanked the heavens- was a rare occasion each year.

I rolled my eyes thinking of the constant passive argument in our house, well, now just my house, I guess. I’d always try to convey, time after time, about how it would create bad spending habits for him to be dressing in crazy expensive labels all the time when who knew if he’d be able to keep up that kind of lifestyle as he grew into adulthood? And it shouldn’t be expected of him. Canyon was a caring and sensitive little boy. Not that he would see that. But what if Canyon wanted to become a teacher like I had. I quit the pursuit when Canyon came along so I could focus my energy on him. It was always the plan to be able to go back to teaching… but it was always the plan to have more children as well… and nothing ever seemed to go my way for years. Through the entire marriage I had become an isolated glacier, melting away where no one could see.

I made my way to the top of the bleachers, where Canyon knew I’d be watching, and took a seat, scrunching my shoulders up to brace the cold. I took a deep breath and tried to relax and tell myself that no one was watching me and there was no need to feel self-conscious here. It was my place after all. I was back in the rink where I’d always been my true self, where I could always think clearer. Maybe it was the cold that made my brain shut all the distractions out and just let me enjoy. I was glad to finally share this place with my little love. And just maybe…I could get back to being myself again and embrace some real happiness for Canyon and I.

I caught Canyon’s eye for a second as he filed along the boards getting ready to take the ice. He gave me a tiny smile and lifted a glove really quick before turning his attention back to his little hockey helmet-headed buddies.

I hoped beyond hope that he’d make the team and his little heart would be spared from the crush of being cut. I didn’t want to have to face that trial just yet. He believed he was destined for the NHL and I wanted to keep that dream alive for him as long as possible.

“Juli-Anna!” I heard a familiar voice call out, and I scanned the parents around me until my eyes met Jen Baker’s, my neighbor and mother of Canyon’s buddy, Troy. I absolutely hated when people said my name in two like that. She always seemed to yell the second part too, I had no clue why.

“Did you put his name down on the registration? Because I didn’t see it!” She sang as she started over to me. She had a way of talking with her entire body. I noticed she had an extra layer of makeup caked on for today’s try-out. I internally rolled my eyes at her attempt to look like a twenty-year-old for the try-out.

“Does it matter?” I tried to say lightly.

“Um, yeah! I’m not saying anything but,” she scanned the parents dotting the bleachers around us, “I did hear that they were trying to stack the team with…” She air quoted with her fingers: “Nice families who can afford to take their kids to the Vancouver tourney this year… and have some other fun tournaments… if you know what I mean?” She rolled her eyes and flipped her platinum hair out of her face. She scanned me up and down then, probably approving of my jacket. “You look so damn skinny! How do you do it?” She asked way too loudly, making me feel uncomfortable.

I forced a smile, “Ahh, I don’t know Jen, I think I’m just small-boned. But I better go sign Canyon up then.”

“Yes! Go do it now,” she urged.

I stood up and walked past her. She always called attention to my looks and made me feel awkward. She was probably just insecure, but her insecurity had a way of making me feel insecure… Half the time I felt she wasn’t even the same species as me- she had about a foot of height on me. Kevin always called her the Ex-Volleyballer, a nod to her tall, blonde figure. I would just internally roll my eyes every time. He had a habit of looking at other women.

She did seem to be looking out for Canyon though. Probably just because she could pawn her kid off and rely on me to take him to all the practices if they were on the same team.

I really was kind of in shock about the importance of putting his name down on the sheet though. Our kids were eight, how was money already a factor? But just because I was questioning it didn’t stop me from making my way back to the lobby to make sure his name was on the right sheet. I didn’t want Canyon’s disappointment, or Kevin’s, to be my fault.

I entered the Ice League’s huge lobby, which was the warmer inside area that connected the east and west rinks, and housed picnic tables, arcade games, a concession stand, and a tiny bar. I made my way to the front where the sign-in table was located. I somehow managed to walk right past it when I entered- probably because I was feeling some second-hand nerves for Canyon.

I leaned over the wobbly portable table to scribble Canyon’s name down, when I noticed a familiar name at the top of the sheet…

I immediately dropped the pen and altogether stop breathing.

I hadn’t seen that name in so long. Tears stung the back of my eyes, threatening to come forward and I felt a closing sensation in my throat. Jeez, I was a 31-year-old woman. Why would seeing a name make it feel like I’d just been hit by a truck? I needed to calm my breathing down before I gave myself a panic attack.

I hadn’t seen that name in so long. Not since the summer I turned 22 years old. Almost a decade ago.

Printed in all caps, I reread the name- Greyson Scott. Of course the writing looked rushed. All of his movements felt rushed and unrhythmic. The only time he smoothed out his actions was on the ice…I still had that handwriting somewhere in one of my boxes of old things… On sweet, but always slightly crude, birthday and Valentine’s Day cards, signed ‘Love you, Grey.’ I had that last name printed on half a dozen ratty, old sweatshirts put away somewhere in my garage. I wore that last name for so many years, and for the longest time I thought it’d be mine- something that, even a decade later, made me want to break down and cry.

I took in a shaky breath. I had to hold it together. It could’ve been a mistake, or maybe just a nod to him- he did play here as a kid, and he did end up playing a couple seasons in the NHL. But did this indicate he was coaching this team? Last I heard he was in Michigan…why would he move back here to Minnesota? To my hometown. Sure, he’d lived here through high school, but unlike him, I was here long before and long after. I had shown him all the ins and outs of this town…. Maybe it was some kind of joke…. Or could that really be him?

I got the answer a second later.

“Ju-ju!”

I shut my eyes, wincing at my old nickname and turning my head.

“Max,” I replied.

I waited a second, wondering if this would be a standoff or a nice blast from the past.

He chose the latter and walked toward me in his skates, swishing in his warm-up sweats with outstretched arms. His eyes flashed like those belonging to a little kid who had just gotten away with mischief, just like they always had. It was nice knowing that life hadn’t killed that playfulness within him.

“Bring it in, Juju! Last time I saw you we were college kids drunk on the ether of youth,” he laughed and leaned down to hug me. “You’re still so teeny tiny!”

The hug shocked me, and it took me a second to reciprocate. Good job Jules, make him think you’re a cold bitch, I thought.

“You’re on skates, not fair,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. Clearing my throat, I mentally tried to figure out how to ask what I really wanted to know.

“How are you? You’re coaching now?” I asked, trying to gauge his involvement with this team.

“I’m better now that you’re here,” he winked at me and tugged at the front of my hat, but his face turned more serious. “I’m in charge of a lot of the Ice League now. I was split between the rink in Brookdale and here for the last couple years. But now they’ve given me the run of it. Can you believe that? I’ve got an eye for talent!” he laughed. “Must be because I watched more than played during my time in the net with our winning team growing up, ya know? I’m managing all of the youth Griffin teams.”

While I’d practically grown up here skating, I had to remind myself that so had Max. And Grey. This place held so many memories for me… for us.

“You’ve got the personality for a coach,” I smiled at him. He really did, he was always pretty genuinely happy. I think I’d only seen him lose it one time when his girlfriend Paige threatened to leave him. And him losing it wasn’t violent, he sobbed like a baby- an aspect I had learned to appreciate in a man. But again, that was nearly nine years ago. It was amazing how he looked almost the exact same, hat still turned back, but just a few more wrinkles around the eyes, and a little more scruff.

He paused for a second and he eyed me with a suspicious smile, “You’re probably wondering about who’s coaching the ‘07’s though, aren’t you?”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to fight the blush creeping into my face, “Uh… I-”

“It’s Grey’s team, and Smitty is assisting. In all honesty, Smitty and Ashlie- they’re married-” he said with an eye-roll, “and Paige- we’re not married- but they’re all going to be really happy to see you. Paige is probably going to go nuts over this-”

He must have noticed my panicked face.

“In a good way of course! We had some fun times, Ju-ju! Then we just didn’t hear from you. Cold turkey, Ju-ju.” He shook his head. “You broke our hearts, girl! We grew up together, you were part of the gang!”

I cleared my voice and prepared myself not to choke on his name, “But this is Grey’s team?” I asked, slightly shaking and hoping to break away from talking of our past.

He paused, “Yes. but don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine. I honestly want your little rugrat to play for my organization. He’ll probably be an awesome skater…” he eyed the names on the clipboard he snatched from the table and spoke to me as he studied them, “Assuming you taught him? What’s his name?”

That surprised me. I always did like Max though; we had a few heart-to-hearts back in the day.

“His name’s Canyon,” I smiled. It was easy to talk about my wonderful little boy. “I did teach him. He was a natural though.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Bowlegged like his Mommy?” Max laughed and I just nodded. It was a bit advantageous to be built that way when learning to skate, because you were already starting out with some natural edges. “Alright… kid’s gotta cool name… last name?” he asked, and I could tell he was trying to catch a glimpse of my left hand. I was thankful I’d stuck it back in my pocket. For some reason, I didn’t want him to know of my divorce.

“Tate,” I said.

He gave a soft smile, “Well, it’s nothing like Hurley, and I’m not gonna lie, I might accidentally call him Lil Hurls, but-”

“Wait,” I said, “no favors though, okay? If he makes the team- great, he does want to be with his friends that are already on this team, but if he doesn’t, it’s probably for the best… I don’t know if…”

“Damnit Ju’j,” he said it jokingly, exactly how he used to say it, putting me at ease. “You worry too much. I won’t let anyone know his name.”

He studied me then, narrowing his eyes to meet mine, making me feel uncomfortable.

“Tate…” he said again, tsking. “Always thought you’d be a Scott girl,” he drawled slowly with a sad smile.

I felt my chest tighten and my throat hurt with clogged emotion, but I tried to play off the comment with a polite smile.

With that, he gave me a wink and turned to march back to the ice.

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