She sees the relief in my expression, telling me how intuitive she is and gives me a tiny nudge with her elbow. “Easy as pie.”
I decide to take her advice and use this time to connect. While we’d talked at the party, it was in a group of people and I didn’t get one-on-one. It’s been a few months since I’ve been able to catch up. “What’s Travis doing today?”
Her smile breaks wide, revealing two dimples I’m not sure I’ve ever noticed before, or if I had, they hadn’t made an impression. I’m momentarily dazzled. “He starts youth hockey next week so he’s at the rink today with his buddies getting in some practice. He’s so excited, it’s all he’s talked about for days.”
“Going to be a winger like his dad,” I say assuredly, knowing that won’t offend but not sure if it will sadden. I’ve seen Travis skate, and he’s got the same speed and agility Mitch had.
Danica’s smile doesn’t lessen but I see a brief flash of grief. “That’s what he says. He’s nervous, though, since he didn’t play last year. All the other boys have an entire season on him.”
“He’s got enough talent to make up for it,” I assure her. Again, I’ve seen the kid skate and handle a puck, goofing off with his dad and some of us on the team enough to know where he’s going. “If he wants some extra practice, though, I’m glad to help him out.”
“Really?” she asks, the drawl of surprise and gratitude in her voice surprising me. It’s the sound of someone who doesn’t ask for help often and seems shocked when it’s offered.
A flash of guilt runs through me. Have I done enough for her after Mitch died? Did I do enough for any of the loved ones?
“Absolutely. I’d love to help him out. We’ve got a home game tomorrow and an away game on Wednesday. I could do Thursday afternoon. What time does he get out of school?”
Danica seems dumbstruck for a moment but recovers. “I pick him up at three.”
“I’ll come by at three thirty to get him and have him home by five thirty. Is that good?”
She nods effusively. “Yes, that would be great. He’ll be so excited. You know I play in the driveway with him, letting him slap plastic pucks at me, but I can’t give him pointers the way his dad could have.”
I laugh. “You know your fair share of hockey, but I admit… I am a professional.”
She laughs in return. “I’ll text you our new address.”
My brows draw inward. “You moved?”
“Um… yeah,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “That house was too big for us, you know.”
I do know. They lived in a monstrous custom-built home in a gated community but I wonder if maybe it held too many memories. Regardless, I can see the subject makes her a little tense so I don’t delve.
“I get it,” I assure her.
“Listen,” she says hesitantly and steps in a bit closer. “There’s something I did want to ask your help with.”
I dip my head closer to compensate for the softness in her tone. “What’s that?”
“I’m not good at soliciting but as the director of the new foundation, part of my job is keeping it funded.”
“You want money? I’m happy to donate.”
She grins at me, dimples popping and fuck… I shouldn’t think that makes her prettier. “Yes, I’ll take your money but that wasn’t what I was going to ask for. I’m trying to secure a big corporate sponsor and the CEO is throwing his sixteen-year-old son a birthday party. He’s hinted—quite strongly—that he’d join as a sponsor if I can show him some Titans love.”
“Aagh,” I drawl with a knowing lift of my chin. “Sure… what can I do?”
“Come to the party with me. Maybe a signed jersey for the kid. Take some pictures with the others, sign a few autographs. It’s Saturday and I know it’s between home games so it’s your time off… it’s a big ask and—”
“I’m there,” I say, somewhat surprising myself. I cherish my downtime and hanging out at a teen’s birthday party isn’t my idea of relaxing. “Find out how many kids are there and I’ll snag jerseys for all of them.”
“Oh no,” she says, shaking her head and holding out her palms. “I can’t ask you to pay for that.”
Chuckling, I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze. “I’m not paying for it. Brienne will be, but this is her foundation so I know she’ll be glad to. You’ve got to think bigger picture, Dani.”
Her nickname just slips out, a testament that I knew this woman far better than I even remembered. Years of playing on the same line with Mitch, dozens of team events, parties, birthday celebrations. Many of her friends call her that.
Mitch did.
“I know,” she says with mock self-loathing. “I told you I hate asking for stuff. I don’t like being a bother to people.”
“Trust me.” My hand falls away but I give her an encouraging smile. “Asking rich people for donations or sponsorships or time in helping isn’t a bother to them. It’s the price of being wealthy. You need to lose that fear.”
Her smile is wry. “I’ll remember your advice.”
Coach West approaches and when Danica sees him, her smile brightens to full wattage. “Cannon.” She jabs him playfully with her elbow. “And I didn’t ask you earlier, but I heard you’ve got a new sweetheart. I need to meet her.”
“You will,” he says, the husky affection in his voice sounding very right for him. He’s had a tough road with losing his wife to cancer but he seems to have found something amazing with Ava.
Coach’s gaze comes to me. “Glad you could make it.”
As if I had a choice.
I smile, giving a half shrug. “Thought I’d see what all the fuss was about.” My gaze drops to Danica. “It’s been nice to connect with old friends.”
“Very nice,” she agrees. “Now, I’m going to catch up with some others. I’ll see you Thursday. I can’t wait to tell Travis.”
“See you then.”
After Danica moves off, Coach West turns to me. “See… I told you this would be a nice time.”
“No,” I reply with an emphatic shake of my head. “You most certainly didn’t say that.”
He snorts and glances back toward Danica. “Nice to rekindle friendships, huh?”
“I guess. Travis is starting youth hockey next week. Going to help him out. And I got suckered into helping out with securing a sponsor for the foundation.”
Coach claps me on the shoulder. “Trust me… we’re all going to get suckered by Danica into doing something at some point.”
I watch as Danica laughs in her conversation with one of the wives. “Well, she needs to up her courage to ask. She’s struggling with that a bit.”
“She’ll figure it out,” he muses thoughtfully. “She’s done a remarkable job of keeping things together for her and Travis after the crash. She’s had a tough time but still going strong.”
“Yeah.” I glance around the room again, and really take everyone in. No one looks sad. Some are in deep conversations, others laugh the way Danica does. But this isn’t a melancholy gathering of people sharing their pain.