Page 7 of The Game Changer

“Everything looks good to me,” I answer, looking at Jill for her to also respond.

“I’m good, as well, thanks,” she says as she picks up her fork and dives in. One thing that I like about Jill is she’s not afraid to eat around me. We’ve been around each other a handful of times because her best friend is married to one of my best friends and teammate, and it seems like most of those events revolve around food. So many women I’ve dated over the years will order the smallest thing on the menu or a small salad and then sit there picking at it. I want a real woman. Not one that thinks she needs to be a twig.

A silence falls between us as the two of us enjoy our food for the first few bites. “Have you thought about going back to school to learn something else? Maybe find a new career path?”

“I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s always an idea.”

“What are you passionate about?”

I shoot her a look that says it all. “Well, since hockey is out of the question, I love to be outdoors. Hiking or biking. I love to fish and be out on the water, as well.”

“Okay, so that’s a start. Maybe you could do something with those interests. Or start a charity of some sort for a cause that is important to you. I know you donated money to help support the women’s shelter awhile back, do you have any other causes that you’d be interested in supporting?”

“I did donate to them and planned on making it a yearly contribution. I’ve kicked around the idea of a foundation but never had the time to dedicate to it.”

“I think you might have a little bit more time on your hands in the near future.”

“You got me there.”

“Does coaching interest you at all?” she questions between bites.

“Eh, it’s never been my strong suit. Probably goes hand in hand with that aversion to being in front of the camera. I’ve helped out with kids’ summer camps throughout the years, and those are always fun, but it’s usually filled with little kids who don’t really know what they’re doing, so anything we taught them was new and fun. It wasn’t about the nitty-gritty of the game, more the basics, starting with how to stand on a pair of skates,” I tell her as a laugh escapes my lips. I remember back to one of the first camps I ever helped with as a young rookie. “I remember this one little girl at a camp. She arrived decked out in head to toe bright pink gear. She thought she was hot stuff, but her blades hit the ice, and she was flat on her back the next second. It took two of us an entire hour of convincing her to leave the bench and try again. By the end of the week, she was doing pretty good, but man, those first few days, were pretty sketchy.”

“Sounds like a fun memory,” Jill states as she pushes her plate away. “Damn, that was amazing, and now I’m so stuffed.”

“I’ve never had a bad meal at this place,” I tell her as I push my own plate away.

---