“Stan!” a voice calls from the other end of the corridor. “I’m popping
out to pick up coffee for your dad and the other coaches. Want anything?”
I turn to glare at my father’s assistant. “You promised you’d never call
me that.”
Tommy gives me the courtesy of appearing contrite. Then he throws that
courtesy out the window. “Okay. Don’t shoot the messenger, but it might be
time to accept you’re fighting a losing battle. You want my advice?”
“I do not.”
“I say you embrace the nickname, my beautiful darling.”
“Never,” I grumble. “But I will embrace ‘my beautiful darling.’ Keep
calling me that. It makes me feel dainty but powerful.”
“You got it, Stan.” Laughing at my outraged face, he prompts, “Coffee?”
“No, I’m good. But thanks.”
Tommy bounds off, a bundle of unceasing energy. During the three years
he’s been my dad’s personal assistant, I’ve never seen the man take so much
as a five-minute break. His dreams probably all take place on a treadmill.
I continue down the hall toward the ladies’ change rooms, where I
quickly kick off my sneakers and throw on my skates. It’s 7:30 a.m., which
gives me plenty of time to get in a morning warm-up. Once camp gets
underway, chaos will ensue. Until then, I have the rink all to myself. Just
me and a fresh sheet of beautiful, clean ice, unmarred by all the blades that
are about to scratch it up.
The Zamboni is wrapping up its final lap when I walk out. I inhale my
favorite smells in the world: The cool bite of the air and the sharp odor of
rubber-coated floors. The metallic scent of my freshly sharpened skates. It’s
hard to describe how good it feels breathing it all in.
I hit the ice and do a couple of slow, lazy laps. I’m not even participating
in this juniors camp, but my body never lets me veer from my routine. For
as long as I can remember I’ve woken up early for my own private practice.
Sometimes I assign myself simple drills. Sometimes I just glide aimlessly.
During the hockey season, when I have to attend actual practices, I take
care not to overexert myself with these little solo skates. But this week I’m