Page 7 of Ice Melts

As they sat down with their drinks, she found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected. Travis had a way of doing that—making her feel like she didn’t have to have all the answers.

“Thanks for this,” she said, wrapping her hands around her cup.

“Anytime.”

And for the first time in a long time, she thought that maybe she and Travis could be friends again.

CHAPTER FOUR

The gym at the YMCA was buzzing with the sounds of kids shouting, sneakers squeaking, and basketballs thudding against the hardwood. Travis Jenkins crouched low, holding the ball just out of reach of a boy who was maybe eight or nine, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“Think you can take it from me, Caleb?” Travis teased, grinning as the boy lunged forward, swiping at the ball.

“I know I can!” Caleb declared, his small hands scrambling for the ball as Travis dribbled it just out of reach.

“Show me what you got,” Travis said, backing up and letting Caleb make his move. The kid managed to tap the ball away, sending it rolling across the court, and Travis raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, you win!”

Caleb’s grin stretched ear to ear as he retrieved the ball, and Travis ruffled his hair before jogging back to join the rest of the group.

This was his favorite part of the week—helping out with the youth program at the Y. It was a chance to give back, to remember what it was like to be a kid falling in love with sports. These kids didn’t care about stats or contracts or playoffstandings. They just wanted to play, to laugh, to feel like they belonged.

“Alright, everyone, circle up!” Travis called, clapping his hands to get their attention.

The kids gathered around, their energy still buzzing but their eyes locked on him. He knelt to their level, his tone playful but firm. “Who can tell me the most important rule of basketball?”

Caleb’s hand shot up, and Travis pointed at him.

“Have fun!” Caleb said confidently.

“Exactly,” Travis said with a smile. “Because if you’re not having fun, what’s the point, right?”

The kids nodded, a few of them giggling, and Travis sent them off into drills, their laughter filling the gym once again.

He stayed for another hour, helping with passing drills and offering tips on free throws before wrapping up for the day. As the kids filed out, waving goodbye, Travis felt that familiar sense of fulfillment that always came with volunteering. It wasn’t much, but it mattered.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he packed up, and he pulled it out to see Tatum’s name on the screen.

“Hey, Tate,” he said, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

“Hey.” Her voice was soft, hesitant, and immediately, his stomach tightened.

“What’s wrong? Everything ok?”

“It’s Mom,” her voice quivered. “She had a setback. They had to take her to the hospital last night.”

He froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “Is she okay? What happened?”

“She’s stable now,” Tatum said quickly, as if she’d anticipated his panic. “But her breathing got bad, and the doctor wanted to monitor her for a couple days.”

Travis ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady himself. He hated this—feeling helpless, like no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough. “Which hospital?”

“St. Anne’s,” Tatum said. “I’m heading over there now.”

“I’ll meet you there,” he said, already moving toward the exit.

“Travis…” She hesitated, and he could hear the strain in her voice.

“What?” He stopped in the middle of the parking lot.

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