𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 | 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

⁰⁴ | Concrete wall

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 day in October, Adam puts the truck in park and nearly turns the radio off when an old Nirvana song rattles through the speakers. He smiles to himself and nods his head to the beat for a moment. After a few seconds, he twists the keys to the engine and gets out of the car.

The wind is brisk and pushes his hair around his forehead until he reaches the door to the town rink. When he gets inside, he pulls his skates out of his hockey bag and checks the watch on his phone. He starts to tie up his laces when the rink manager, Gary, spots him from across the main lobby. Gary calls out his name, his voice composed of an aged rasp. "Didn't think you could get away without saying anything, did you, Banks?"

"Right, sorry, Gary," Adam says. "I would never purposefully pass up on an opportunity to talk to my favorite boss."

"Bloody right you wouldn't," Gary said, his Irish accent thick. 

Adam never did quite understand how someone born and raised in the dead center of Dublin ended up in Edina, Minnesota. He believed that Gary probably had lots of stories in his lifetime. He just wasn't sure if Gary would have been in any sort of mindset to remember them.

"Word on the street is," he continues. "Those scouts have been hovering at your games for a while now. What is it? Eden Hall, right?"

Adam nods. "I'm not sure I'm interested in any of the schools yet. Dad tells me never to accept the first few offers of anything."

"You know," Gary says, nibbling down on his toothpick. "My mother used to say something like that. Never plant roots in bad earth. Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"You're an interesting guy, Gary," Adam laughs, checking the time again. "But my lesson starts soon."

"Yeah, yeah, those kids can wait a damn minute. How's the Mrs. doing?"

"My Mom's doing really great. She's planning a getaway with her sisters soon. Should be fun."

 "Wasn't talking about your mother, Mate. The girlfriend."

He laughs again and pinches the bridge of his nose. "She's not the Mrs., yet, but she's good. We're both very busy, thinking about it now. It's been a while since the last time we were together. You know how it is though. I'm either at hockey or here. She's skating or probably doing some incredible community service act, extra credit–something like that."

"Those Pierces. What did you expect? The brother was like that, too. What was his name? Derek?"

"Drew," Adam corrects. "He's at Brown now. You know, one of the big schools."

Gary huffs. "Was a bloody good skater. Could have gone all the way if he hadn't quit for some science class."

"He's going to be a brain surgeon if that's what you mean. Who knows, Gary, maybe one day he'll be your doctor."

"I don't need no brain doctor. Everything's all intact. I'm fine."

Adam laughs. "Okay, Gary. It's been a pleasure, as always, but I really should get going now."

"Tell your old man I say hello, alright?"

"Right, yeah," he nods, pushing the heavy door into the ice rink open. 

Lined against the white concrete wall are the familiar bunch of fourth-graders. Voices echo off the boards from the other classes wrapping up on the ice. Adam grins when he sees one of the girls punch a boy in the arm. To the right, he spots Julie taking her group off the ice. The two pass briefly, saying their quick hellos to each other before Adam reaches his own kids.