Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“She really did a lot here,” I say, knowing full well she ran the whole church.
“She did, and I know that it’s going to be hard to fill her shoes.” He smiles. “But I think you can do it.”
I look at him shocked, my mouth opening and closing and then doing it again, but nothing comes out. Finally, I whisper, “What?”
“It seems we have been pushed together for a reason,” he says. “I will be here with you every single step of the way, and I’m sure once you get used to it, you’ll be able to do everything with your eyes closed.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I say, along with the tear that slips over my bottom lid.
“You could say yes,” he says, smiling. I just nod my head, afraid if I say anything, a sob will rip through me. “Now to get to the nitty-gritty stuff. It pays sixteen dollars an hour.” My eyes open wider as I think about the extra three dollars I will make per hour. “The hours are very flexible. I know Dylan finishes school during the year, at three, so you can either have him in the after-school program, or you can take off at that time.”
“I don’t know what to say.” I shake my head. “I think the only thing that I have been saying is that I don’t know what to say.” Laughing now, I wipe away a tear with the back of my hand.
“Why don’t we start tomorrow after you drop Dylan off at camp?” he says. I’m so overwhelmed that all I can do is nod.
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you,” I say honestly, and he reaches forward and grabs a tissue that is on the desk and hands it to me. “Thank you.”
“You can repay me by doing the job I know that you’ll be amazing at.” He smiles. “And in the meantime,” he says, getting up and going over to the desk drawer to take out a checkbook, “this is going to be an advance. We can take out twenty dollars a week until it is paid back.” He continues writing and then hands it to me. I look down and see that he wrote a check for two hundred dollars.
“I don’t need this much,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s too much.”
“Well, then put some of it away for a rainy day,” he says, and I want to scoff at him. It seems like every day is a rainy day.
“Now if you will excuse me, I have to get things ready for later,” he says. “I will see you tomorrow.”
“Yes,” I say. “I will be here tomorrow.”
He turns to walk out of the room and closes the door after him. I put my hands on my face, and the tears that I kept at bay start to fall. This time, though, they’re not tears of sadness or despair but tears of happiness. I wipe my eyes, and when I’m finally calmer, I walk out quietly just as the meeting finishes. I smile at some of the people walking out.
I push open the church door, and the sun hits my face, and for the first time in a long time, I look up and smile.
Chapter Eleven
Justin
“You need to skate up the wide more.” I look down at Dylan. “You skate to the middle too much.” He looks at me, his chest heaving after his play. It was a good play with him skating to the middle and then shooting the puck. “It worked this time, but when you go too much down the middle, you can get blocked in by the defense before the puck even hits the goalie. If you skate in the side, the goalie is usually stuck to one side of the post, giving you a big opening on the other side.” He just nods his head, and I know he’ll understand it if he sees it. “Watch Ralph.” I call over to the other side of the ice where Ralph is teaching another play and raise my hand to tell him to come here. He skates over and stops in front of me. “I want to show Dylan how to skate down the side with the puck and not to the middle. Do you think you can play defense?” I joke with him, and he just smirks.
“It’s summer, right?” he asks, skating backward in front of me. “Which means I don’t really have to go easy on you.” He tilts his head to the side, and I look at the bench and see that all the kids are watching this one-on-one.
“You think you can stop me?” I goad him, skating to the middle of the ice and dropping a puck.
“No one is here to tell me to go easy on you.” He winks at me, and I just shake my head. “Golden boy, my ass,” he continues, and I skate around in a circle before skating over to the puck and making the play. I’ve been practicing against Ralph for the past five years. He got drafted to Edmonton the year before me, and when you are number one on the team, they make you train with the number one defenseman, and that is Ralph. His eyes aren’t on the puck; instead, his eyes are on me. Another thing he does better than anyone is read the play. I skate to the right, and the puck hits the blade of my stick. I skate to the left, and my eyes go to Ralph, who skates backward never leaving or moving with me. My hands slide the puck right and left as I make my way down the ice, and I move more to the right. Once I pass the blue line, I pick up speed, and he stops skating and makes me move right to left to see which way he is going to go. His body is now close to mine, and he knows that if he gives me just a touch more space, I’m going to slap in the puck. But he doesn’t; instead, he sticks out his stick and tries to poke check me, giving me just enough room to shoot the puck under his raised hand and into the net. The kids on the bench cheer loudly, making Ralph laugh and then push me away. “You got lucky.”