Page 130 of The Shots You Take

Riley was able to find most of Emily’s gear in the shop’s secondhand section, which smart parents knew to raid early. It was now the first week of August, and by September there wouldn’t be much left. He sharpened Emily’s new skates and trimmed her stick to the right height for her tiny body.

“And when she outgrows her gear, you can bring it all right back to us for credit toward her new stuff,” Riley remindedKim later as he handed her the debit machine. “Even her stick if it’s in okay shape.” He made eye contact with Emily. “Though I’ll bet you’ve got a really hard slap shot, don’t you? Your stick will probably be in five pieces by the end of the season.”

Emily giggled.

They were less than an hour away from closing time on a Tuesday. It had been an enjoyable day at work, but Riley was keen to get home. For one thing, Adam had just returned home last night after being away for a week doing speaking engagements. For another, today was their first wedding anniversary, and Riley had plans.

They’d been married in their backyard, surrounded by flowers and the sea and a small group of close friends and family. Riley had never given much thought to what his dream wedding might be like, but he couldn’t imagine a better one. He was often struck by sudden moments of disbelief that Adam Sheppard was truly in his life again. That they were together. That Adam was his. But he’d never felt it so strongly as he had when they’d stood fearlessly in the sunshine and vowed to love each other always and forever; when Adam had kissed him for the first time as hishusband, in front of his kids and Maggie and even a couple of his closest hockey friends.

Adam’s parents and brother hadn’t been there. Adam had felt obligated to invite them, but he hadn’t seemed disappointed when they’d declined. His parents hadn’t spoken to him much since his book came out.

Adam and Riley had kept things quiet for the first year of their relationship. Adam had traveled frequently to Nova Scotia, and Riley had gone to Toronto a couple of times to visit Adam in his new downtown apartment. Near the end of that first year, Adam came out to a small group of close hockey friends. He’d told Riley after that it had gone okay. WhenRiley had pressed for more details, Adam had smiled sadly and said, “They just need some time, y’know? It’s a shock.”

Some of them had needed time, and some of them, it had turned out, were assholes.

A few months later, Adam came out publicly and, with Riley’s blessing, announced their relationship. Riley never paid much attention to hockey media, and he paid even less attention to social media, but according to Adam, the hockey world “lost their fucking minds” about the news. There had been a lot of support, but there had been—and still were—plenty of loud bigots making gross jokes.

Adam was interviewed by just about every news outlet in Canada and asked to speak at events all over the place. Riley had been asked to join Adam for some of those interviews, but he’d declined. He’d never been very comfortable with the celebrity side of being a hockey pro, and he preferred not to be back in the spotlight, though he appreciated the support. Adam understood, but he still—to Riley’s embarrassment and delight—talked up Riley in every interview. When he was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame the following November, he gave a speech where he’d described Riley as the love of his life. Riley still teared up whenever he thought of it.

The year after that, Adam’s autobiography was released, and it was an instant national bestseller. The book was remarkably raw and honest. Adam openly talked about his mistakes and regrets, but was also critical of hockey culture and the way it encouraged men to hide important things about themselves. And he’d also called out his parents a bit for being overbearing perfectionists, but he’d stopped short of using the wordabusive. Riley felt he’d gone easy on them. The Sheppards had felt otherwise, but they’d already shut Adam out almost entirely anyway since he’d told them he was dating Riley. It was no great loss, but he knew it was still painful for Adam.

Feeling braver by then, Riley had joined Adam for part of the book tour. Now that his sexuality, his mental health struggles, and his long, complicated history with Adam was (mostly) public knowledge, he’d received a lot of support and sympathy from hockey journalists and fans. One journalist even devoted an entire column to apologizing for accusing Riley of being lazy and undisciplined during his final season. Adam had been thrilled because, more than anything, he wanted the world to be in love with Riley.

Riley had never cared much about the world. His town loved him, his family loved him, and Adam loved him. That was all he needed.

And Lucky, of course.

Once both Lucy and Cole had gone off to university, Adam moved in with Riley. That had been two years ago, and Riley’s life had been more or less perfect ever since. Of course he still missed Dad every day, but the pain had softened over the years. People around town had really stepped up to take on the tasks that Dad had, somehow, always managed to do himself every year. Riley had thrown himself into managing the shop, introducing new product categories like kayaks, and adding a bike shop expansion. Not being much of a bike expert himself, Riley had hired a young woman named Grace who regularly did triathlons to run that side of things. She’d done a great job. At first he’d felt guilty, making changes to the shop, but both Mom and Steve had assured him that Dad would have been proud of him.

Finally, it was closing time. Steve teased Riley for rushing through the closing duties, then got stern with him. “Go home to your husband, boss. I’ll finish up here.”

Riley didn’t argue.

He’d hoped to sweep his husband into a bone-melting kissas soon as he got home, but those plans got put on hold when he saw Mom in the kitchen with Adam.

“I’m leaving!” Mom said immediately. “I know it’s your anniversary. I just dropped by to exchange jam with Adam. I’d meant to be gone before you got home.”

“It’s my fault,” Adam said. “I’m chatty.”

“You both are.” Riley gave Mom a hug, and then Adam a quick kiss on the cheek. “You don’t have to run off, Mom.”

“Nope. I’m going. I’ve got what I came for.” She held up a jar of red jam.

“What’d you make?” Riley asked Adam.

“Raspberry jam with thyme.”

“Fancy.” Jam and pickles had become Adam’s passion. Once he’d learned how to make them, he couldn’t be stopped. Not that Riley wanted to stop him; his spicy dill pickles were incredible. “It’s a hot day for making jam, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, well.” Adam gestured to his sweat-damp shirt. It was the aqua linen one that Riley had picked out for him when they’d been in Montreal in May for Lucy’s university graduation. It was a great color on him. Adam’s hair and stubble were more salt than pepper, now, and his belly was a little larger than it used to be, but to Riley he’d never been more handsome.

“Susan brought us blueberry jam,” Adam said. “Fair trade, I think.”

“Agreed,” said Riley.

Lucky wandered into the kitchen and greeted Riley with a mild woof. He wasn’t as energetic as he used to be, but he still took his job as inspector seriously.

“Hey, buddy,” Riley said, and bent to scratch Lucky’s ears. He still came with Riley to the shop sometimes—as did Adam—but Riley didn’t blame Lucky for wanting to loaf around the house most of the time in his old age.

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