“Laura,” he said. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Go to your meeting,” I said. “Thank me by going to your meeting.”
He nodded. He got out. Then he leaned back down and looked at Sam through the window.
“Same time next Saturday?”
Sam looked at me.
I thought about it for what felt like a long time. Then I nodded.
“Same time next Saturday,” Sam said.
We watched him walk up the church steps and go inside. Then I put the car in drive.
We were halfway home when Sam said, without looking at me, “I think I want to go back to hockey.”
I glanced over at him. “Yeah?”
“I think so. Not because of you. Not because of Dad.” He looked out the window at the bare trees going by. “I watched him skate today. I mean, last Saturday. He’s so bad now, Mom. He’s like a baby giraffe. And he doesn’t care. He just loves being out there. I want to feel like that about it again.” He paused. “I want to find out if I still can.”
