Page 50 of The Shots You Take

“I’ll try to be there, Seb.”

People were still talking excitedly throughout the restaurant as Adam left with a tray of coffee and a paper bag of cinnamon buns. He supposed he’d have to go to the bar tonight now, though he’d been looking forward to another night in with Riley.

Yesterday had gone well, Adam thought. There’d been a rocky start at the shop, and things certainly hadn’t been smooth sailing at Riley’s house later, but it had felt like progress. This morning, in the empty house, Adam had watched videos on YouTube of Riley and him playing together. It had hurt, like he’d expected it to, but it had also been a rush to let himself remember how life had felt back then. Back when they’d both been young and beautiful and rich and famous. When the city of Toronto had loved them. When they’d loved each other with a fierceness that Adam couldsee in those videos. Clips where he would get tripped, and then Riley would flatten the poor guy who did it. Where Riley would score a goal and Adam would hold him against the boards, smiling while yelling in his face, their noses touching. So many videos, spanning nine seasons, and ending with the Stanley Cup win. Adam hugging him, and probably telling him he loved him. Riley would have silently acknowledged it, because he hadn’t said any version of those words to Adam since the time he’d tried to say them for real. And Adam, selfishly, had said them all the time to Riley, disguising them as casual, as if showing Riley how to do it properly.

God, Adam had been such an idiot. All the coffee and cinnamon buns in the world couldn’t make up for how badly he’d treated Riley.

When he entered Tuck’s Sporting Goods, there were a few customers and Riley already looked frazzled. He nodded at Adam, then went back to talking to the woman who seemed to have him pinned in one corner of the shop.

Adam placed the coffee and cinnamon buns on the counter, then casually made his way to the hockey stick rack, which was closer to where Riley was trapped. He heard the woman, who looked about his own age, say the word “Harvey” and then “won’t be the same without him,” and he saw the way Riley was nodding, his jaw tight and his eyes unfocused. Adam made a beeline for them.

“Hi, Riley,” he said cheerfully, then to the woman he said, “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I’m Adam.” He held out his hand. As expected, the woman’s face lit up.

“Oh my goodness, hi. Of course I know who you are.”

“Well, that puts me at a disadvantage.” Adam winked and hoped it was charming and not creepy.

She laughed and blushed a little. “I’m Cathy. I went to schoolwith Riley and—” she tilted her head from side to side while rolling her eyes “—I’m a proud hockey mom. Two sons and a daughter.”

“That’s great,” Adam said enthusiastically. “I owe a lot to my own hockey mom.”

She seemed very pleased with that. “I was just telling Riley that I’ve taken on the organization of the end-of-year minor hockey banquet. Obviously we postponed it, and it feels awful to go ahead with it at all without Harv, but it means so much to the kids.”

Adam glanced at Riley, but he was staring at the floor. “Of course,” Adam said. “Do you need help?”

“Well, actually, Riley, I was wondering about the hosting of it. Harv always did it,” she explained, with a glance at Adam, “so I don’t know if you, or maybe Susan…”

“No,” Riley said. “Sorry. I’m not… I can’t.”

She nodded sympathetically. “I completely understand. I only wanted to offer. We can find someone.”

“When is it?” Adam asked.

She glanced at Riley, as if worried she might offend him. “This Monday night. Is that too soon, Riley? It’s just we had things rented and they’ve been good about postponing a week, but I think if we push it…”

“It’s fine,” Riley said. “No, it’s good. It should happen. Dad would want that.”

She smiled at him, her eyes misty. “He worked so hard on it. He always worked so hard on everything.”

Riley nodded. Adam could see his jaw tighten.

“There’s a lot to do,” Cathy said. “But I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Riley said quietly. “But if you need help at all—”

“Then ask me,” Adam interrupted. “I’m in town untilTuesday and I’d be happy to help. I could even host it if you want.” He grimaced. “Sorry. That’s probably overstepping.”

Cathy gaped at him. Then she grabbed his arm with both hands. “Would you? Oh, that would be so special for the kids.”

Adam glanced at Riley, who was also gaping at him. “I mean, yeah. If you want. It could be fun. Hey, why don’t we let Riley get back to work and we’ll discuss the details?”

After giving Cathy a quick goodbye, Riley retreated to the back room. Adam gave Cathy his cell number, which she was clearly very excited about, and suggested they meet tomorrow. As soon as she left, Adam was approached by a man he vaguely recognized from the last time he’d been in Avery River.

“Hey, Shep. Good to see you again,” said the man. He was stocky, bald, white, and probably in his sixties.

“Steve,” Adam guessed, and held out his hand. Steve shook it happily. “I brought coffee. And cinnamon buns.” He gestured to the counter. “Help yourself.”

“That’s nice of you. Thank you.” Rather than grab a coffee, however, Steve stayed put, grinning at Adam. The man behind Steve—a customer, Adam assumed—stared at Adam with wide eyes.

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