The Parent Playbook (Love on Thin Ice)

4. Scotty

CHAPTER 4

SCOTTY

T he Stetson sits a little awkwardly on my head as I climb the steps onto the stage. Something about her … the smell of apples and fresh cut grass. It’s an unlikely combination, and my curiosity is going to kill me.

Whatever this strange sensation is that I’m having for the worst hockey fan I’ve ever met, it’ll have to wait.

I’ve got to be on show with the team for our next media session, this one far more ritzy than the small affair this afternoon where the conversation kept coming around to some scandal involving Zach Hart—but I don’t have time for celebrity tomfoolery. I’ve only ever been about the game.

“And we’re up.” Zach claps Doug’s shoulder as we settle into a line, a few of us hanging at the back, myself included.

I wish I had charisma. I’m just a regular guy from a small town who had a few minutes in the limelight, but Doug is a natural. He’s got the crowd in the palm of his hand.

“Tonight is about keeping it real for the kids. Happy Horizons Ranch has a great reputation here in Maple Falls, and the whole county knows it. But we want to make sure that children all over the state can access the same right to play, to have fun, to grow up the way they should. That’s why I’m here, and that’s a lot of what has brought these boys together. Ladies and gentlemen, the Ice Breakers!”

On cue, the whole team steps forward and waves. I’m at the end of the line, and very happy being here. Assisting goals was my gig, not being the voice of the team.

Doug continues, on a roll now. “Over here, folks, you’ve got your hometown hero, Dan-the-Man Roberts, number twenty-nine!” The room goes wild before Doug moves his way along the whole team.

As he wraps up his introduction of the Ice Breakers, the applause and cheers from the crowd fill the grand ballroom of the Regent’s Hotel. “And now, I’d like to invite my assistant coach, Scotty MacFarland, to say a few words.” Doug’s voice booms through the microphone, his arm sweeping in my direction.

And my stomach just flipped. He winks at me, but I’d rather spend all day cleaning dog kennels than speak to a crowd like this. I am quite literally out of my league.

“Naw, I’m good. You’ve got this, Doug.”

He tilts his head at me and then looks at the crowd. “Folks, you remember Scotty MacFarland, right?”

A murmur rolls over them and I would like to drop through the stage to the center of the earth.

“He was a legend, and still is, when you see what he does from the sidelines for the Ice Breakers. He might be a bit crowd-shy, but …”

Doug continues singing my praises, something about being an Olympic contender, about my record assists in my last season on the ice, while Blair Radcliffe, publicist to one of our key players, Cooper Montgomery, sidles up to me. Blair is a dogged promoter and has done a lot to make tonight happen. And she’s also the one who gave me the very delicious fruit basket. “You’ve got to say something, Scotty,” she whispers, her voice sharp while her smile remains glowing for the crowd. It’s an impressive act .

“I’m no good at this.”

“Scotty, this isn’t about you. It’s about charity. It’s about giving those kids a chance at something better. Use that charm you pretend not to have.”

Taking a deep breath, I step up to the microphone, the cheers turning into a curious hush. I clear my throat, my hand instinctively reaching up to adjust a tie I’m not even wearing. Old habits die hard.

“Uh, hi there,” I start, my voice sounding foreign under the echo of the ballroom. “I’m not much for speeches. The last time I tried to give one, I ended up talking about fishing techniques to a room full of vegans.”

A ripple of laughter spreads through the crowd, easing the knot in my stomach.

“I’m here because of the kids at Happy Horizons. I’ve heard about what that place does for them. It’s more than a camp; it’s a place where they can forget their troubles, play, and just be kids,” I say, finding my rhythm.

A round of respectful applause takes over the room, and that’s when I see Angel. She’s clapping like her life depends on it, while her face looks like she might throw up. Poor thing. I should have told her who I was, but she was on a roll.

“I may not have three swimming pools, but I promise we’re here to make a splash for a great cause.” I couldn’t help myself with the joke, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it. I have to hold back a laugh as Angel’s eyes widen more. “But what we have is a team committed to making a difference. And tonight, with your help, we hope to score a big win for Happy Horizons.”

The applause that follows feels different—warmer. I glance over to where Blair is standing, and she pops me a couple of thumbs up.

“Thanks for listening. I’m going to do everything I can to make the Ice Breakers a winning team for Maple Falls. Now let’s make tonight a game-changer for those kids,” I conclude, stepping away from the microphone as the applause grows louder .

As I make my way off the stage, Blair whispers, “See? Not so bad after all.”

“Yeah, well, let’s not make a habit of it. Pretty please.”

“ Pretty please ?” Blair echoes. “You’ve got to hang out with people over the age of twelve. Mr. Hart! So great to see you,” and Blair is off to hob-knob with the philanthropist who made the Ice Breakers a reality.

As for me, I think I’ll stick with twelve-year-olds. My hair braiding has come a long way in the last few years, even if my bracelet beading skills leave something to be desired. Speaking of which, I think I’ll pop by the TV room and check on Lily.

As I’m about to make a stealthy exit, Angel catches up to me, and a whiff of those apples gets me again.

“Scotty, was it?” she starts, her shoulders turned to the side as if she’d like to be running in the other direction. “You put on a good show. I truly thought you were there for my coat.” She bites her lip and something in me lights on fire. “About my rant about hockey players … I might have been out of line.”

“I’m sorry I accepted your coat.”

Her eyes scan me from top to bottom, and I suddenly become acutely aware of my mismatched socks. I never cared before. If anything, it was my signature style, but now I feel like I need to offer an explanation.

“Wait a second,” Angel crosses her arms, her entire demeanor changing, “I insult your whole profession when you’re the one raising money for my charity, and you apologize? ”

I shrug. The realization of how downright pretty she is has stolen every word from my brain. “It’s not my profession anymore.”

“But you’re the coach, right?” She looks confused.

“I am for now. Otherwise, I’m a handyman at a luxury hotel and dog spa.”

She starts choking, seemingly on air, and heat rises up my neck .

“Excuse me. Must be the champagne. I just didn’t have you pegged as the dog spa type.”

“What can I say?” I shrug yet again. “I love those furry rascals.” I should walk away now, say something like “pleasure to have met you,” and focus on the reason I’m here, but there’s something about Angel’s candor that’s disarmingly attractive.

She smiles wide and shakes her head. “Scotty MacFarland, full of surprises.”

“And there’s more where that came from.” I immediately realize that came out all the wrong way.

“Oh?” Angel’s eyebrows tell me she’s expecting some off-color pickup line.

I tilt my head to the side. “I am also an excellent cook.”

She laughs. What a laugh. Her eyes crinkle and her shoulders relax as she tosses her head to the side.

“Pleasure to have met you, Miss Angel. And as for your whole ‘spiral staircases’ and ‘obnoxious hockey player’ bit from earlier?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes are curious, catching the light from the chandelier.

I lean in toward her. “You owe me one.”

I walk away, filled with a confidence I forgot I could have. I turn back to catch her watching me, looking unsure if I was serious or not. I think I’ll let her sit with that for a while longer.

As I one-hundred percent intend to see Angel Davis again.

But first to see the number one love of my life in the TV room.

“Daddy!” Lily jumps into my arms and then extricates herself, pointing a long finger toward her roommate. “That’s Andy. He’s an activist and he has a ranch. A ranch! For kids!”

“A ranch for kids, huh?” I look over at a gangly boy who has a confident and easy smile that I immediately recognize. “You don’t say.”