Page 61 of King

Suddenly, Theo’s father’s angry voice echoes across the rink. “Theo, what are you doing? Pay attention! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

The other parents shift uncomfortably, stealing nervous glances at one another. King’s head snaps up and a fierce determination burns in his eyes. Without a word, he strides off the ice and heads toward the stands. All eyes watch him in wary curiosity and I follow to either voice my support or calm King down. Not sure which at this point.

“Hey, that’s enough,” King says firmly as he approaches Isaac McVey from the side of the bleachers where he sits four rows up. His head tipped back to look at the man, he says, “I’ve told youbefore… these kids are here to have fun and learn. If you can’t keep your comments positive, you need to leave.”

Theo’s father looks taken aback but his jaw locks tight, eyes flashing with anger.

“Do you understand me?” King asks, his tone brooking no argument.

Theo’s mother quickly intervenes by placing a calming hand on her husband’s arm. “It’s okay, honey. Let’s just enjoy the game,” she says softly.

Theo’s father mutters something under his breath but nods and sits down. King turns around and walks back onto the ice with ease, ready to continue coaching.

“Nice work, Coach King,” I tell him as we return to the game.

“Thanks,” he responds, but I still see anger simmering as he moves past me. He goes straight to Theo on the ice and I’m not sure what he says as he puts a hand on the kid’s shoulders and murmurs to him, but the little boy nods with a solemn look. Then he smiles and skates off.

The game continues with more funny moments and cheers from the parents. The kids are having the time of their lives, and that’s all that truly matters. As the final buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, the Ice Pups and Little Lightning gather for the traditional handshake line, their faces beaming with pride. They had a grand score of zero to zero.

King and I gather the kids for one last pep talk, and a sense of accomplishment washes over me. It’s moments like these that remind me why I love coaching, even if it’s hockey and not figure skating. It’s a pure bonus having King by my side. His passion for the sport and dedication to the children touches me on a very deep level, but the way he looks at me does things too.

The parents in the stands erupt into thunderous cheers and applause as the kids step off the ice, their voices eliciting toothy grins from everyone. Theo’s father watches from a distance, amix of emotions crossing his face but mostly I see quiet anger. I’m guessing he did not like being called out by King, nor did he appreciate the reminder of the boundaries in place.

As the kids disperse to celebrate with their families, King approaches Theo’s father once more. His posture is relaxed yet commanding, his voice gentle yet firm as he addresses the man.

“I understand that you may have some frustrations, but this is a space for encouragement and support,” King says, his words carrying weight and a sense of authority. “Your son looks up to you more than you know.”

“What do you know about it?” Theo’s dad sneers. “You have kids of your own?”

King shakes his head. “No, but I had parents who encouraged and let me have fun. It made me want to please them and made me a better player. There’s more than one way to get your kid to play to his potential.”

Theo’s father’s eyes flicker with uncertainty as he studies King but then he exhales. “Maybe you’re right,” he concedes, his gaze sliding over to where Theo is laughing with his teammates. “I just want him to succeed, you know? To have opportunities I never did.”

King nods in understanding, his expression softening with empathy. “I get that. But sometimes the pressure can be too much, and it might push him away instead of pulling him closer.”

Mr. McVey scrubs a hand along his jaw. “Thanks for the advice,” he says quietly. “I’ll try to do better by him.”

“Good man,” King says, clapping him on the back.

Theo’s father nods and makes his way over to where his son is standing, still chatting animatedly with his friends. As Theo catches sight of his father approaching, he tenses slightly, unsure of what to expect. But to his surprise—and mine—hisfather offers a small smile and reaches out a hand to ruffle his hair affectionately.

“Great game, son,” Theo’s father says gruffly, but with a hint of pride shining through. “I’m proud of you.”

Theo blinks in astonishment, a smile slowly spreading across his face. The tension that had been coiled in his shoulders releases and he grins up at his dad.

When they walk off, I approach King and lace my fingers with his. “That was quite the speech. You seem to have reached him.”

King shrugs, frowning. “The man said the right words just now but it’s hard for a zebra to change his stripes. We’ll see how he does at the next game. What do you want to do for the rest of the day?”

I blink in surprise. “You have the entire day off?”

“No, I have a light skate practice but was hoping you might want to watch and then we can do something together.”

The swell of giddiness at spending the day with him, watching him practice, is another indication that this man is having a profound effect on me. “I’d love to come watch you practice,” I say eagerly, already looking forward to seeing him in his element on the ice. “And afterward, we can do whatever you’d like. Maybe grab some dinner or go for a walk in the park?”

King’s expression softens at my words, a warmth shining in his eyes. He squeezes my hand gently before letting go to head toward the rink, gesturing for me to follow him. “Dinner sounds great,” he says with a smile.

♦

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