Page 12 of Holding The Reins

“Earth to CeCe.”

I look up to see Olivia’s expectant face, her dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose glimmers as she grins.

“What? Sorry. I need a job; I was just searching through our dismal choices,” I say.

“The one and only thing Andrew was good for, earning enough money for you to do whatever you wanted, career wise.” Ginger says, and she isn’t wrong. I’ve been doing charity work for the last two years with a women’s shelter full-time and working as a tax consultant for Andrew’s firm part-time for little money because I could. There was never a need for me to earn a large income with Andrew pulling in six figures. I was free to pursue anything I was passionate about with Andrew, but now it’s time to get serious and truth be told, I really am looking forward to it. If nothing pans out, I might even start my own business.

“You could always work with me? Even part-time I could use some help.” Olivia owns a very popular lingerie boutique on the other side of town near the beach at Cave Run Lake. In the summer, they bring in brand name swimsuits and sell a lot to the tourists taking in the lake and Sugarland Mountain recreation.

“You know I love you and appreciate it, Liv, but I need to do something in my field or I’m going to feel like all that money my parents spent on my degree was a waste.”

Ginger nonchalantly sucks back the rest of her sweet tea. “I need more Advil, and a mini nap before I teach my afternoon class,” she groans.

How this woman makes it through a typical Monday as a high school English teacher during the regular school year, I’ll never know. Thankfully for her, in the summer she only has one class a day, a refresher for any kids that need it.

I haven’t even paid my lunch bill yet when I get a response from Sherri-Lynn asking when I’m available to interview.

I answer her back with “anytime” and she returns the message almost immediately asking me to come in around three today.

That gives me two hours to formally print out my resume and credentials and make myself one hundred percent human after last night.

I smile to myself as I say goodbye to the girls and head to my dad’s old Silverado. I may know nothing about sports and rec but I know a lot about business and finance and they seem desperate. This day is looking up.

“We just need to involve the community.” Harry Martin has been the head coach for the high school hockey team for over thirty years. He was even my coach, and right now, he looks his sixty-four-years and then some as he continues. “The team committee appreciates your offer, Nash, but we don’t want a hand out. We want this to be a grassroots type of thing. It will mean more to the families and the kids. People feel better about taking if it comes from the community. We can use Olympia as a sponsor but we need upwards of twenty-five thousand to fund the teams, the equipment, and everything else that goes along with having five different divisions for one year.”

I nod. I get it and I hate to throw money around—this town isn’t the kind of place that is impressed by that—but I want to help. The Laurel Creek Lightning is drowning financially and there are so many good little hockey players here and in the surrounding counties. I’ve been seeing it all summer through our camps. Olympia Sports Center or something like it, has been a lifelong dream of mine.

“When I was ten, I won a spot in a hockey camp in Michigan for two weeks and it’s what led me to my future. If I hadn’t had the opportunity to play when I got home, I never would’ve made it to the college rink or the NHL. These kids need sports and the opportunities they present. It’s something I’m passionate about. I know there is pride involved. We’ll come up with a way before fall to fund the program and using this ice will be on us,” I say to him.

I didn’t buy the old arena last year and put it through a huge renovation to create this space for nothing. I knew my NHL career was coming to an end and I needed to be busy. I don’t do well if I’m alone with my thoughts. Wyatt always said idle hands do the devil’s work, and in my case, he was always bang on. I knew I’d need this outlet.

The renos finished just in time for my season to end and I was able to flow effortlessly from the Stars to Facility Director and Trainer here. Yes, I have three jobs. Like I said, I can’t sit still.

“Maybe we can sell raffle tickets? Or have an auction?” Sonny suggests from his right.

She’s been a Godsend since we opened—scheduling all the camps, calling parents, taking payments, waivers, bills. You name it, she does it. All the things I’m not good at. But it’s become quite apparent that she needs some help. She’s semi-retired and is only supposed to be here part-time. Neither of us could have predicted the need this area has for organized sports and camps. Just with running our skating, hockey and figure skating programs, we’re stretched to the max. I nod in response to her.

“That’s a good start, we’d have to run some numbers,” Harry answers.

Sonny smiles then looks up at me and taps her wristwatch.

“My interview should be here any second, pop your head in in twenty, if you can.”

“Sounds good,” I say, then I get back to going over suppliers for equipment with Harry, hoping this interview is better than her last. We really need the help.

Ipull up to Olympia Sports Center fifteen minutes early and I’m genuinely impressed with what I see. This isn’t the old, run down arena I used to skate in with my friends when I was a kid. This is state of the art and double the size it used to be. It looks fresh and clean and the large parking lot is near full.

Kids and parents are coming and going as I park. Granted, I didn’t have any time to actually research what this place even does anymore, but I can see they’re doing it well, especially since it’s July, not exactly ice skating season.

When I come up to the large entryway, there is a massive set of stairs in front of me that never used to be there, leading up to a second story that also never used to be there. A ticket window—I’m assuming is for game nights for the house league and competitive hockey teams—is to my right and beyond that, I see two full size ice rinks behind the stairs. The one to the left has glass windows that overlook the ice and a long line of stools for viewing. There are kids on the ice now, mostly girls but a few boys too, that look to be about seven or eight, and Avery is on the ice with them. They are all wearing figure skates. I wave to her through the glass and she gives me a puzzled look as she smiles, probably wondering what I’m doing here.

“Little Cecilia Rae Ashby, all grown up!” Sherri Lynn says as she approaches.

I turn to greet her and smile. She looks the same as when I was young, just older, somewhere in her mid-sixties, her hair is a neat grayish blonde bob and she wears big rimmed glasses with leopard frames. She looks like the fun Grandma.

“Yes, it is. Ms. Sherri, how are you?”

“Please, call me Sonny,” she says as she gives me a big squeeze.

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