Our Overtime: Ice League Book 1 (The Ice League Series)

It was the first day of Canyon’s third grade school year. It’d gotten easier each year to drop him off, but this year didn’t follow suit. I packed his lunch and put a little note in it wishing him a good day, gave him a cheery smile, and hugged him tight before he ran off into line with his friends, but as soon as I got back in the car, I bawled my eyes out.

I drove the three miles home in an absolute mess and then sat in my driveway for twenty minutes looking at pictures of him that I’d taken this past summer. I was pathetic. I needed to get some friends or a job or something. Canyon was my little person and we’d grown even closer this summer now that Kevin was barely in the picture.

Kevin showed up every other weekend and took him out for ice cream or watched the games that he had that weekend, but he wasn’t a supportive dad. He always criticized Canyon to me thinking that Canyon couldn’t hear what he was saying. Kevin obviously didn’t realize how intuitive his child was, and then he’d wonder why his “own son was giving him a cold shoulder” and if I had turned his son against him.

I stared up at my house. It was a lovely home. Not too small, not too big, all modern farmhouse looking with brick painted white and wood shutters and accents, just outside of downtown, and at the end of it a cul-de-sac. I loved it. It was my first and only big purchase after the divorce. What an absolute joke of a marriage. It was more of a financial tie than a marriage.

I had wanted to leave him long before the divorce, but I would’ve lost everything. And let’s face it- something I realize I have to admit to someone aloud one day according to my therapist – I was scared of him. But my grandparents had made sure I’d stick it out with him regardless of my feelings and well-being, all to avoid embarrassment at the hands of their country club friends. Pathetic. I wondered how they felt about Kevin choosing to leave me. I don’t think they thought about that potential scenario, I thought snidely.

After I had found out I was pregnant with Canyon, my grandfather promptly cut me off and then gifted his business to his right-hand man in the company: Kevin. Which meant they gave all their assets over to Kevin instead of having him pay them off… they had enough money to live off, and they called the business my inheritance. But that meant all my inheritance – even what my father had penned to me before his death- was tied up and gifted to this shit of a man, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I’d have nothing if I left him. I’d lose the only gift my father had ever given me. But they were already embarrassed to have a knocked-up granddaughter. An unmarried one or one who left her baby daddy instead of marrying him would be an even greater disgrace in their eyes. What would they tell everyone? I was 22 and had no form of income and hadn’t even started my career. Who was going to hire a first-year teacher who would only be there half the year? What could I do but stay with him? I had no choice if I wanted to protect my baby.

Turned out, Kevin leaving was the best thing that could’ve happened. Because of it being his choice, he had to give me half of everything in the settlement. That was plenty enough for Canyon and I to have a fresh start.

The divorce settlement this past spring was less than messy. Kevin did not even try to get custody of Canyon, which was all I would’ve fought him on. He did drop hints throughout that he was doing me a favor by not fighting for it and the threat that he would fight if I did anything less than acceptable as a mother in his eyes was always there.

I needed to start a life for myself though. I couldn’t just hide out in my house when Canyon was gone.

I needed to do something with my time. Getting a job would be better than hanging around here. I hated how lonely and pointless I felt with Canyon gone at school.

I decided I needed a jog. It was a crappy day out- the sky was threatening to cry too, making it a drizzly mess, but running outside would be a thing of the past in a month when Minnesota decided to start freezing. A run would clear my head. Maybe I’d get in amazing physical condition with all my free time.

I quickly entered my house, trying to wipe away my gross mascara stains, and changed into some running clothes.

I threw my hair in a ponytail as I walked down the front porch steps, turned my music full-blast, and let my feet pound the pavement.

After running through my entire neighborhood in the drizzle, I’d decided to push myself further. I figured if I made it to downtown, I could always call myself an uber to get back home. Besides, I had nothing else better to do with the day.

I turned onto third street where I knew I could find a Starbucks, when the familiar outline of a man stopped me in my tracks.

I could tell it was him walking from behind.

He looked like a hockey player, there was no getting around that. He looked the exact same as he did nine years ago, just more filled out now, stronger. He was a towering 6’4. He’d shot up through high school, opposite of me who stayed a solid 5’2.

A thin hoody tank covered his built chest. He had his hood pulled up and was stretching his legs. He must’ve been on a run as well. The exposed muscles in his arms bulged. I noticed right away he had finished the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. It made him look even more impossibly tough. The last time I’d seen him he had only one on his upper arm, a tribute to Tenny Park in Minnesota. He said that was his home. It was the place he’d grown up and loved me versus where he was born in Vancouver. Now I wondered what else filled the sleeve… and if he covered that tribute to our home.

I couldn’t move. I wasn’t sure where to go. Did I turn and hide? Or did I face this head on? My entire body felt hot. How did one say hello to the person they lost their virginity to? To the only person they ever loved? The person who’d been their everything for six years- longer than some marriages. I had envisioned this meeting between the two of us so many times in the first few years after it was over. Sometimes it’d be a happy reunion…sometimes I envisioned myself slapping him in his stupidly handsome face. But that dream died a while ago when I figured we’d never see each other ever again.

I needed to make a decision.

After holding my breath for what felt like a full minute, I took a step forward onto the brick sidewalk. I’d take my time walking towards Starbucks and leave it up to fate. If he turned around and saw me, it was meant to be. If not, same. In the back of my mind, I knew I’d be slightly disappointed if I didn’t finally speak with him today. I needed to rip off the Bandaid. My son had spoken to him and interacted with him and I hadn’t yet. That felt so odd to me. But he probably hadn’t even known it was my son. Canyon had Kevin’s last name.

I all of a sudden felt very conscious of what I was wearing and berated myself for not re-doing my makeup…. what did it matter though? It’s not like I was trying to impress him. After playing in the NHL he probably had some model girlfriend. I just needed to break the ice. For Canyon, I told myself.

I was ten feet from Starbucks and him when he turned around.

He stared at me and took out his headphones.

Neither of us moved.

“Uh, hi,” I told him.

He looked like he was afraid to speak.

“Jules?” He pulled down his hood and blinked his dark eyes several times, focusing them on me.

“Uh… yeah. Hi.”

It felt like neither of us knew what to say or how to interact with one another. Did I give him a hug? Did I nod and just walk by?

He was silently studying me there on the sidewalk.

“Were you crying?” He asked quietly.

I felt sheepish then and looked away, “It’s Canyon’s first day back at school,” I offered lamely, feeling my cheeks heat up. “I guess I’m just one of those crazy moms,” I tried to joke and roll my eyes, but it came out flat.

He abruptly stepped toward me, making me flinch, before pulling me into a hug.

It felt so comforting that I nearly cried. His hug felt the exact same as it had for so many years. His chest was so broad and warm. But it didn’t last. He turned rigid and awkwardly pulled back.

His quick embrace was replaced with the freezing cold. It felt like it’d gotten ten degrees colder.

“I..uh… sorry, I didn’t mean to… uh,” His eyes shifted beyond me.

“Thanks,” I said, cutting him off and taking in a shaky breath.

He turned to walk away, but then turned back. “Where is he going to school?” His dark eyebrows pinched together in curiosity.

“Caraway Elementary,” I gave a soft smile, where I had dreamed of teaching, but never got the chance to.

Words didn’t have to pass between us for me to know he remembered the name. He just nodded slowly.

“Did you just move back?” I pressed. I got another slow nod in return. It looked like he was being tortured, but he wasn’t leaving.

I nervously reached up to fix my hair and he watched my hand.

“Your hair… it’s uh… it’s long again.” His voice sounded pained. “It’s nice…” he cut his eyes away from mine.

I took the opportunity to study his face. He looked the same, just older, and more tired. He left scruff on his face, but it was cleaner than when he was a kid. He was sporting a buzz cut again. He’d only had that once when we were dating and I’d been mad at him about it. It was laughable now, how I’d been upset about something so childish. With age he’d grown tougher looking. He had the same gap in his left eyebrow, from stitches he had acquired during a game in college and he still had a scar on the right side of his bottom lip from where he took a stick to the face in high school when he and Smitty were goofing off. But now he also had a jagged scar, gash really, on the left side of his face, that cut under his cheek bone. It looked like whatever it was that caused it had gotten him bad, and it bothered me that I didn’t know what it was from. It was just another reminder that life hadn’t stopped when we ended, even though it felt like it did.

“That scar- ” I started to ask but wondered if it was too personal.

“What about it?” He asked breathlessly. His dark eyes were staring at me intensely, making me feel uncomfortable.

“What’s it from?”

The silence seemed to stretch for a mile between us.

“What?” His face cracked with emotion when he said it. He looked at me like I lost my mind and like he’d just been punched in the gut at the same time. I didn’t understand what I’d said so wrong. I guess it was too personal and I started to apologize, but he cut me off.

“Tate?” He spat the name out angrily.

That one word felt like a brick wall being slammed between us.

“Uh-“ I stammered. “We, um… divorced.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, but someone chose that moment to walk out of the coffee shop door between us and distract him.

When I saw him again he looked stoic.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you and Canyon at the League then.”

Those who didn’t know him would say he looked calm. But he still had the same tell he did as a sixteen-year-old boy. His jaw throbbed angrily as he grinded his teeth.

“Yeah, he’s excited for it,” I said softly.

He gave me a nod pulling up his hood and he turned on his heel to jog away, leaving me feeling even more lonely than before.