Page 93 of Goalie Lessons

Astrid lets out a little laugh beside me, and it’s enough to curb the tears pressing at the backs of my eyes.

“That would be great,” Kayla says, and it seems like she really means it. Turning to me, she adds, “You stepped up. You gave them stability when they needed it most. We’d love to have you in Colorado whenever you want to visit.”

Something loosens in my chest. “Thank you. I’ll buy a skiing pass.”

That makes Mrs. Welch laugh from her wheelchair, and she shakes her head. “You’d better not—if you get hurt before the playoffs, that number nineteen will wallop you.”

Astrid snorts, and I ask, “Luca?”

Mrs. Welch waves a single wrinkled hand, “Whatever his name is.”

Then, I ask, “Wait, have you been watching the games?”

“What?” she asks, tilting her head, “You think I’d just let you run off with my great-granddaughters and not keep an eye on you?”

“Grandma,” Kayla laughs, “aren’t you an Avalanche fan?”

She scoffs. “Never said I wasn’t.”

“We should go to the games when the Frost plays in Denver,” Callie says, looking at me for confirmation.

“Front row seats,” I promise, and for the first time today, my smile feels genuine.

Ms. Clearing outlines the next steps—a gradual transition over the next month, with Kayla staying in Milwaukee for two weeks, taking the girls for increasing periods before they all return to Colorado together at the start of the summer, just after they finish up school in Milwaukee.

When we’re done, Astrid and I step out into the hallway together to give Kayla some time with the girls. She reaches up to kiss me, but is interrupted by the buzzing of her phone.

“Hello?” her face shifts, and she turns, lowering her voice. “Yes, this is her.”

A moment passes, and she says, “That is wonderful news. I’m out of town right now, but I’ll be in touch. Yes, thank you. You as well.”

With that, she ends the call and turns back to me, something strange in her eyes. “I got the research position.”

“You did!” I say it as a statement—I knew she would. I put my hands on her biceps, grin at her. “That’s great. When do you start?”

She hesitates and slides her phone back into her pocket. “I’m not…sure.”

Before, this would be the point where she’d deflect, change the subject. But when I wait patiently, she goes on, looking up and meeting my eyes.

“I’m not sure I’m going to. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I realized while I really enjoyed school, I think I was pushing so hard just to keep my mind off of what had happened. I never gave myself a chance to really grieve my parents, and taking this job right now…it might just continue that cycle.”

I slide my hands down, tug her toward me. Holding Astrid is my happy place now.

“I think you should take the break,” I say. And then, whispering into her hair, I add, “Feel free to borrow money from me any time you need, baby.”

When she pulls back, she punches me lightly in the arm just as the door opens and the girls appear, running out to meet us. The walk out of the building is serious, quiet, and I’m sure everyone is in their heads about the changes headed our way.

But just before we reach the rental, Athena turns and takes my hand tugging on it and smiling up at me with her gap-toothed smile. “Can we go to the Milk Jug?” she asks, already bouncing on her toes.

“Milk Jug?” I ask, looking to Callie. She laughs, “It’s an ice cream place.”

Turning to Astrid, I shrug. “What do you say? Should we all get some ice cream?”

Astrid pauses with her hand on the truck’s handle, looks from me to Callie, then to Athena. Then, a smile splitting her face, she says, “Always.”

Epilogue - Grayson

“Ididn’trealizeseventhgrade graduation was such a big deal,” Callum says, glancing over at me and fanning himself with his program. We’re both exhausted from practice today, but Sloane and Astrid are up ahead of us, chatting animatedly, Athena chiming in every now and again with her take on whatever they’re discussing.

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