Page 57 of Ice Mechanic

I nod.

Her eyes soften and she bats her eyelashes. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for my girlfriend.”

Her face instantly drops.

“She’s about this high.” I gesture to my chest. “With curly brown hair and green eyes like the ocean. What else?” I point a finger at the nurse’s cheeks. “Freckles. She’s got the cutest freckles?—”

“No, I haven’t seen her. And I’m really busy.” She stomps away.

“Thanks for your time,” I call to her back.

Lost and slightly disappointed, I return to the main hall and spot the elderly man April was speaking to. I brighten and head his way. I have a feeling she’s still in the building and that she’ll see this guy before she leaves.

“Hey.” I slip into the chair beside the old man in the white T-shirt and over-alls. “I’m Chance.”

“I know who you are,” he says, excitedly pumping my hand up and down. “You just got drafted to the league.”

My eyes widen and I flick a glance at the ground. Should I correct him?

“Let me tell you, buddy. The real work is just beginning. Here’s my advice.” He leans close as if dispelling a great secret.

I lean forward too.

“You’ve got potential. I can see you taking home the cup in a few years. Easy. But you can’t get distracted by all the rigamarole. Keep your head down. Play a good game. That’s all you gotta do and it’s in the bag.”

I cough softly. “Thank you, sir. I’ll remember that.”

“Mr. Brooks,” a nurse arrives, “the chef has a surprise for you in the cafeteria. Why don’t you follow me?”

“I’m not hungry.” Mr. Brooks folds his arms over his chest.

The nurse’s tone remains patient. “You promised you’d at leastseewhat the food is before you reject it.”

The old man looks away.

“Your daughter will be so disappointed if she hears you didn’t eat.”

“June?” His eyes brighten.

“No,” the nurse blows out a breath, “April.”

The old man frowns and flounces back into his seat. “I don’t know who that is. I want June.”

The lump in my throat turns into a boulder. I can just imagine April’s heart shattering every time her dad doesn’t recognize her.

I face the stubborn patient. “Mr. Brooks?”

“Yes?” He pins eager green eyes on me.

“I’d love if you could help me out with my game.”

“Of course, son.”

“How about we talk some more over…” I meet the nurse’s eyes.

“Lasagna,” she whispers.

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