The Elmwood Stories

Hockey is in my blood. I learned to skate before I learned how to ride a bike. I’ve been on a wild ride, playing at the highest level for some of the biggest and best teams in the league. But now it’s over, and I’m not sure what to do with myself. So I'm going home to Elmwood. But I’ll tell you what I’m not gonna do—I’m not going to coach my buddy’s junior hockey league. No chance. I don’t know how to deal with kids, and besides, the other coach—who happens to be my best friend’s brother—hates me. With reason.

My time playing pro hockey will be up soon. I can feel it. And I’ve heard the rumors: he’s too old, he’s had too many injuries, he’s lost his edge. I don’t want to admit it, but they could be right. Next season might be my last. Or this season. Because of course, this is when the universe decides I need another concussion. It’s a doozy too—the kind that’s going to keep me off skates for a while.

Problem: I don’t know what to do with myself. Helping out at the rink might be my ticket out of here, but nothing is happening fast enough. And then there’s Ivan. No, no, it’s not what you think. We went to school together. We’re acquaintance-friends…nothing more. But you know, I like him. A lot. He’s funny and relentlessly upbeat. I’m a better person when I’m with him—the kind who volunteers to deck the halls and wrap garland on lampposts and—Whoa.

Elmwood isn't good for my love life. Hey, I'm a positive person and I have nothing but wonderful things to say about small town living, but I haven't had a date in years. That's fine. My son is and always has been my number one focus. Except now he's grown and gone. And its lonely. Okay, yes, the new hockey coach is hot and single, but he's off limits. Smitty's trouble with a capital T, and his baggage might outweigh mine. Besides, we said nothing would happen after that night. It was a one-time, never to be repeated deal. At least that's what I thought.