Page 15 of Gamechanger

That million-dollar smile made me all warm and fuzzy inside. "Got it, Moose. Holiday spirit boxes done lickety-split."

"Any questions?" I meant it as a formality, but I braced myself in case someone spoke up.

Axel had to fill the silence. "Yeah, I've got one. Is all this touchy-feely crap necessary? Some of us have hockey games to play."

The room was suddenly silent. An itch of irritation developed on the palm of my right hand, and I scratched. I had to think fast because I wouldn't let Axel sabotage my chance to prove myself.

I met his gaze with a steady one of my own. "Look, I get it. You're here to play hockey, the game you've loved since you first slapped on a pair of skates. That's what got you here, but now that youarehere, being a Lumberjack is about more than just what happens on the ice. It's about being part of the community that supports you and pays your salary. Those kids out there look up to you, and you've got the chance to make their holidays better. Who knows? Maybe spreading some joy will add a little extra oomph to help block those shots."

I worried that I'd picked a fight with Axel, but, to my surprise, he smiled. "Okay, yeah, point made. I'm in, but I won't be wearing any damn reindeer antlers."

***

Later in the week, I leaned against the nurse's station in the children's ward, clipboard in hand, and watched the players interact with the kids. The nurses provided treats, and the festive aromas of peppermint and gingerbread nearly covered the usual antiseptic smell.

Sergei caught my eye. He knelt beside a little boy in a wheelchair, his massive frame looking even larger than usual. He spoke with his usual thick, Russian accent. "In Vladivostok, we have a saying: 'The quieter you go, the further you'll get.' I think it's like sneaking up on a bear." He leaned in close and spoke so softly I could barely make out the words. "But between you and me, sometimes I think it's better to make noise and scare the bear away."

The boy giggled. "Did you ever see a real bear?"

"Once, on a camping trip in the Siberian forest. It was bigger than me."

"No way!"

"Yes, way." Sergei nodded. "Fortunately, I had a secret weapon. I'd brought along my babushka's borscht. One sniff and the bear ran away."

They both laughed, and I smiled, too. Seeing Sergei getting along so well with the kids warmed my heart.

When I visited the food bank, it was humming with activity. I walked up and down the aisles, greeting both players and volunteers. Then, I heard an unmistakably familiar laugh followed by an imitation of a carnival barker.

"Ladies and gentlemen, come one, come all. Step right up and watch the amazing Finn-tastic defy the laws of physics!"

I rounded the end of one aisle and gasped. Finn was balancing a tower of canned vegetables in one hand, and he spread his other arm out wide. A small crowd gathered and watched with more than a hint of concern on their faces.

"Finn!" I called out and did my best to sound serious and stern, but I wasn't entirely succeeding. "What are you doing?"

He grinned at me. "Moose! You're just in time to see my grand finale. Watch!"

Before I could do anything to stop him, he began to spin around with the tower of cans rotating with him. It was a bizarre scene, almost like a grocery store ballet. The volunteers gasped, and some reached out to be ready for falling cans.

They didn't need to worry. Finn had everything under control. He completed three full turns before setting his sky-high stack of vegetables safely on a table.

Everyone burst into applause, and he took a bow. "Thank you, thank you. Have you tried the canned peas?"

For a split second, as the applause died down, I caught a flicker of something in Finn's eyes—a need for approval, perhaps? It vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual cocky grin.

I tried to fight off a smile, but it didn't work. "Hey, how about giving a little more attention to packing boxes?"

"You got it, Boss." Finn playfully saluted and then turned to the volunteers. "Anyone want to see how many boxes I can carry at once?"

I knew I'd lost the battle even before they responded with a chorus of "I do!"

For almost an hour, Finn treated packing boxes of non-perishable food like an Olympic sport. Tearing up and down the aisles, he filled boxes at breakneck speed, avoiding any mistakes and challenging others to beat his time. The group's productivity soared.

"Hey, Moose!" he called out as he bounced past me. "Think you can beat my record? It's twenty boxes in five minutes."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you challenging me?"

"Why do you ask? Does it make you nervous?"

---