Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Great,” Max hisses. “She’s the one doing the speech now.” I try not to laugh. Denise starts laughing, and then everyone else follows.
“You were not kidding,” Viktor says next to me. “Does it get better?”
I lean in to him. “Yes, they stop talking when they eat.” I turn and see the smile on his face. I’ve refrained from looking into his eyes, but I can’t help it. They are a lighter blue than normal. “Follow me,” I tell him and walk out of the room and then grab one of the bags from the table in the hallway. “These bags have stuff from the Stingers,” I tell him. “What we do is go room to room and give out a couple of things, usually you sign it, and then if they feel up to it, they sometimes ask for a picture.”
I walk into the first open room I see. A little girl sits in the middle of the bed, already covered in New York Stinger merchandise. “Happy Thanksgiving,” I say to her, and then she says it back to us, raising her hands over her head.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” Viktor says from beside me.
“Let’s see what I have this year.” I open the bag and see we’ve got pucks. “I think I got the best bag I’ve ever had,” I say, taking out the silver Sharpie that is in there and handing it to Viktor. “This is for you.” His fingers graze mine, and our eyes fly to look at each other. My heart beats fast, and I try to swallow.
“What do you have in the bag?” the little girl asks. “It looks heavy.”
I blink out of my trance and reach into the bag. “I have pucks,” I say, bringing a puck out and showing it to her. “Did you want it signed or not?”
She puts her hands together. “Signed please,” she says with glee, and her parents just laugh. “Then can we take a picture?” she asks, and I look over at Viktor who just blinks and looks at her.
“You can have whatever you want, sweetheart,” he says. I see tears in his eyes, but he blinks them away. “What’s your name?” he asks her while he signs the puck.
“Savannah,” she says to him.
“A pretty name for a beautiful little girl,” he says, handing it to her, and she shrugs her shoulder smirking. “Now”—he turns to me, handing me his phone—“can you take a picture?”
“I can take that,” Savannah’s father says. “So you can be in the picture.”
I don’t have a chance to tell him no before Viktor grabs my hand and pulls me to the side of Savannah’s bed. He stands there and pulls me in front of him, putting one hand on my shoulder and leaning down a touch to be next to Savannah. “Smile big,” Savannah says, making us all laugh.
“Thank you so much,” her mother says, and she blinks away her own tears. “Today is a good day.”
“One day at a time,” Viktor tells her. “We can only go one day at a time. Slow and steady wins the race,” he tells them, and we walk out of the room. “I think I’m going to need a minute,” he says, and I just nod at him. “I didn’t expect …”
“You didn’t expect for it to hit you in the gut,” I tell him.
“Yeah,” he says. “I thought I had it bad.”
I walk over to him, and I put my hand on his arm. “Everyone has their own struggles,” I tell him.
“How old is she?” he asks me. “She’s, what, ten, maybe younger, and she is fighting for her life.”
“Yeah,” I tell him. “It’s why it’s important that we take the day to be thankful for what we have.” Walking to him, I get on my tippy toes, and I hug him, dropping the bag to my feet while I do it. Both of my hands go around his neck, and his arms wrap around my waist so naturally, like he’s always been doing it. “I’m thankful that whatever happened led you here,” I whisper in his ear, and his breath hitches.
“Zoe,” he says my name in a pained whisper, and I close my eyes. I take it in, the feel of me in his arms, and right when I’m going to let him go, I hear Zara calling me.
I let him go and then hand him the bag of pucks. “You can do the rest without me,” I tell him and turn to walk away without looking into his eyes because I’m pretty sure they’d tell me something I don’t want to know right now. I avoid him the rest of the meal and make sure I sit far away from him. When the guys have to leave, I make a beeline for the toilet, and then when I come back out, my mother is there waiting for me.