Gordon persuaded Charlie into going over to the basketball court for a game of street hockey. He called some of the other Ducks as well; he said it would be good for them, namely Charlie, to let off some steam. And so, that was where a handful of them found themselves shortly before the noon hour hit.

The sun was shining, the temperature and humidity were unseasonably low-a much needed break in the heat wave that had swept over the city for the past week.

It felt like old times-minus some of their former teammates, of course. For a split second, Charlie forgot about everything he was dealing with. His troubles simply fell away for the time being as his focus was on getting the puck away from Adam. It proved to be an effective distraction.

Oh, what he would give to be sixteen again; to cut out half of his responsibilities and for his only worries to be how he was going to pass his chemistry test or how to keep Linda happy.

Scratch that last part.

Forty minutes later, their game had ended when Guy crashed into a trash can, sending him to the ground instantaneously. He groaned, no doubt in pain from his fall. Connie skated to a stop, helping him get back on his feet after making sure that he was okay.

Gordon told them to take a short break so Guy could catch his breath and rest.

Charlie took the opportunity to tell them all about his visit to Ridgewood and his encounter with Zach Campbell. Other than Adam and Gordon, the others were well aware of who Zach was. He hadn't just zeroed in on Charlie during their school days, he'd gone after anyone he deemed an easy target.

"That's just your luck, isn't it?" Averman remarked as he plopped on the end of the bleachers.

Charlie rolled his eyes. He didn't disagree. Luck, these days, was something that he found to be sparse.

To his right, Peter was still in his skates and standing. He scowled. "I hate that guy. He was such a jerk."

Namely because he used to pick on Peter solely for his height, even going as far as making his two goons throw Peter into a trash can for standing up to him.

Adam, having been spared from dealing with the likes of him, glanced around and frowned. "Was he that bad?" He shrunk under the swift head turns and incredulous expressions from Charlie, Peter, Averman, Guy and Connie. "I'll take that as a yes..."

"He tripped me all the time," Averman complained. "I didn't even do anything to him."

"Oh, yeah," Guy said. "I remember when he broke your glasses."

"He broke them?" Gordon was surprised.

"Well, when he tripped me," Averman elaborated.

"He face-planted," Peter informed them with a poorly concealed grin.

Averman made a face. Adam patted him consolingly.

"That's not all," Charlie shook his head. "He was a lot worse than that."

"He took Karp's lunch," Peter said.

"Is that why he was always so hungry?" Guy asked to which Peter nodded. "Huh."

"I sat in front of him in science," Connie said. "He used to pull my hair all the time."

"You're lucky that's all he did," Charlie mumbled. She was sympathetic as she gave him a light punch to the shoulder.

"That bad, huh?" Gordon said. His knee must have been bothering him again-Charlie took notice of the way he was rubbing at it. "I remember dealing with a couple bullies myself."

"What'd you do?" Averman asked.

"Did you fight 'em?" Peter asked eagerly.

"No." This disappointed both Peter and Guy. "But you shouldn't be looking at me as an example."

"Why?" Charlie grinned.

"Well-" Gordon trailed off before starting over. "I might have gotten even with them."

"Alright, Coach!" Peter exclaimed.

"What'd ya do?" Guy asked.

"It was nothing special," Gordon deflected.

"Must have been good if you won't tell us," Averman said.

"Tell us," Connie said, which got her, Peter and Guy to chant over and over. It distinctly reminded Charlie of the time they'd all crammed into Gordon's limo he was being escorted around in, demanding to be taken on a ride.

That is, before his mom showed up and berated Gordon for having the vehicle on the ice.

"Okay, fine," Gordon was amused and shook his head. They went quiet and listened attentively. "These guys wouldn't quit making fun of me for my height so I made copies of their report and taped it all around school."

"And they left you alone?" Averman guessed.

"Not exactly," Gordon grimaced. "They tied me to the flagpole and threw syrup and feathers on me and took pictures."

Charlie and his friends exchanged looks.

"I didn't say it had a happy ending," Gordon retorted.

"Well, I'm not planning on getting even with Zach," Charlie said. "Unless he starts it, then it's fair game."

"Be careful," Gordon warned. "He's still your boss."

"I know," Charlie sighed. "Doesn't mean I don't hate it."

"You can hate it all you want. Just don't sabotage your employment over this guy," Gordon said calmly.

"I won't," Charlie promised. That was all he needed; to see Zach with his smug face after firing him. He would love that. He just wanted an excuse to get even with Charlie after so many years.

The conversation died down. They fell into silence but it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't usually like that around his friends.

The topic soon turned over to Guy and Connie's impending wedding.

Guy had proposed approximately four months ago. He'd made Connie her favorite home cooked meal and planned on popping the question after dessert. Unbeknownst to him, she'd also been secretly planning to propose. The truth came out when Guy proposed first. The two of them had a good laugh over it and were ecstatic for what was to come.

"So," Averman grinned and nudged Guy, "when's the wedding?"

"We haven't really talked about it," Guy admitted.

"Not with each other," Connie corrected, her eyes rolling. "But our moms have. Constantly."

A couple of guys snickered.

"I'm sure they mean well," Gordon said.

"Sure, but it's driving us crazy," Connie said.

"I told you, we should just elope," Guy shrugged. "Got to Vegas, call our families after and we're good."

"My mom would be furious." In spite of her words, Connie was grinning. "She has this whole vision of how everything is supposed to look."

"Forget that," Peter scoffed.

"I wish I could," Connie said dryly.

"They even shooed me out when they were talking," Guy complained to which Connie squeezed his hand. "It's my wedding too."

"They told him just to show up," She continued, sighing. "What kind of backwards thinking is that?"

"Tell 'em to butt out," Peter said.

"I can't tell my mother to butt out," Connie shook her head.

"Why? I would."

"Or," Gordon said, catching their attention, "you could sit her down and explain to her that while you appreciate the input, the wedding is for you and Guy. If she doesn't listen, you'll just have to ignore her."

Connie and Guy considered this.

"Thanks, Coach," Connie smiled. "I'll do that."

Averman's eyebrows were wiggling. "Have you thought about what's coming after-ow!" He rubbed his shoulder from where Guy had hit him. "That hurt."

"Good," Guy grumbled.

"Aww, come on," Averman said, "you're telling me you're not thinking about little Connie's running around with your hair?"

"None of you need to be thinking about that," Gordon gave them all a look.

"Please. As if I'd be thinking about having sex with Connie," Peter said.

"Better not," Guy raised his eyebrows.

"That's not what I-" Gordon tried to say.

"If anyone would be having sex with Connie, it should be me," Charlie grinned.

"Why you?" She seemed amused.

"I've known you the longest. Come on, best friends to lovers. It's a cliche everyone loves," Charlie seemed pleased with himself.

"I don't think the world is ready for a kid that has your stubbornness and Connie's attitude," Adam faked a shudder.

"If that happens, I'm skipping town," Peter smirked.

Gordon sighed fondly, shaking his head. "You're all idiots."

"But loveable idiots," Averman said cheerfully.

"I don't know about that, Averman."

"Enough about us," Connie said, "did you find a new place to live, Coach?"

"Nice segue, Connie," Guy snorted.

She huffed.

"No, not yet," Gordon said and he winced again, presumably in pain that was radiating in his knee.

Charlie, exasperated by his stubbornness, told him, "Would you just sit down already?"

Gordon shot him a look, reluctant to admit to anything that could be perceived as a weakness. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, Coach," Adam said and got up off the bleachers to assist. "I can help you-"

Gordon swatted his hand away. "I can manage," His voice was curt, tinged with slight embarrassment.

Charlie stayed quiet, merely watching. Gordon's knee injury was still bothersome even years later, not helped by age. He wasn't the same guy who had gotten out of that limo all those years ago-in more ways than one.

"Okay," Adam said quietly.

Gordon sat down, eyes shutting.

"When are you getting the kid, anyway?" Peter asked Charlie.

"End of the week." Charlie couldn't help but feel nervous about it. At the end of the week, he would be a-uncle? Uncle figure? He would have a child to take care of. It felt so sudden even though it had been a few weeks since that phone call. "Once I get all the paperwork, I can register him for school."

There was a list of things that needed to be done. It was like there wasn't enough to prepare. Charlie wasn't so sure he would be ready even if he was given endless amounts of time.

"You can come live with me," Adam offered, not waiting for Gordon to say anything else. "I have plenty of room. I know it's a little out of your way so I understand if you'd rather get something closer."

"He doesn't have any other options," Charlie said pointedly.

Gordon gave a sigh of defeat. "If it's really not too much-"

"It's not," Adam said.

"Does your dad stop by a lot?" Averman asked.

"Depends," Adam rubbed the back of his neck.

Gordon and Adam's dad didn't necessarily...get along. Charlie hadn't seen the man in person in quite some time, not since he went to Adam's graduation party. Now that his best friend was living on his own, it minimized the interaction Charlie had to have with the man. The less the better. Adam was usually having to intervene before an argument ensued. Not that it was Charlie's fault-well, not all the time. Sometimes he instigated it but oftentimes that was all Phill's doing.

"I can handle your dad, Adam," Gordon said and smiled appreciatively.

No one else might have seen it, how resigned his former coach was about the situation. But Charlie did. He knew this wasn't easy for him, not having a home and then having to be moved around twice. Gordon was independent. This whole thing must feel embarrassing for him. Of course, he would deny it if asked; that Charlie knew.

"And thank you," Gordon added.

"You don't have to thank me," Adam told him. He then smiled wryly. "Just don't let Goldberg throw any parties there."

/

Charlie felt restless. It had been close to eleven at night when he made an impromptu trip to the store. He needed a few things anyway; groceries, supplies for his classroom. He even pondered about grabbing a couple things for what would be Logan's room. Would that come off as trying too hard? It wouldn't be anything elaborate.

Or maybe he should wait until the kid gets there. They could go pick out stuff together so he wouldn't screw anything up. He passed by the boy's clothing and paused, his eyes catching sight of a plain blue t-shirt. Logan might need new clothing, if just a few things.

Nearby, a woman noticed his staring. She was with a boy who Charlie presumed to be her son. Actually, he seemed like he was around Logan's age. "Excuse me," She said to which her son groaned.

"Mom, don't..."

He turned, the slightest bit surprised. "Uh, yeah?"

"Did you need any help? I noticed you were staring. Not that I work here. I don't. Although I have been mistaken for an employee. Last time I wear a red shirt around here. Heh. Actually, I'm a paralegal. I work for Ducksworth. But you probably don't care..." She trailed off.

Her son had one hand covering his face, no doubt embarrassed by her rambling.

He couldn't help but smile. It was kind of reminding him of his younger days when he was out and about with his mom. Only, his mom wasn't quite that chatty with strangers. "You're fine. Actually, yeah, maybe I could use some help."

He heard a sharp intake of breath. Then a gasp of delight.

"Holy crap, holy crap-you're Charlie Conway!" Her son was practically bouncing with excitement. "You were one of the Ducks!"

He still wasn't used to getting recognized. It wasn't very often. But sometimes it did. It was kind of a surreal experience, nothing that he ever thought in his wildest dreams would happen to him.

"Evan," His mom said. Then, she addressed Charlie. "Sorry. He gets a little excited. He's obsessed with hockey."

"Don't be," Charlie waved it off. "Do you play?"

Evan became a little shy upon being asked. He shook his head. "Nah. I'm not really that good."

"I think you're good, honey," His mom said.

Evan's cheeks reddened and he made a face when she wasn't looking.

Oh, yeah. Charlie definitely could relate to those moments.

"Hey, I wasn't that good either," Charlie said.

Evan blinked. "But you're like a legend."

"I wouldn't go that far. Trust me, I sucked before Coach Bombay came along."

"What's he like? Coach Bombay," Evan asked eagerly. "Is he cool? Does he still play? Do you guys still talk."

"Yes, sometimes and definitely," Charlie grinned.

Evan was sheepish after all that. "Sorry..."

"You said you need help?" Evan's mom cut in.

Charlie had forgotten about that. "Oh, yeah. If you really don't mind."

"Of course not," She assured him, pushing her cart into the boy's clothing section so as to get it out of the way. She began to browse. "So, what are we looking for?"

"And who is it for?" Evan asked.

"Evan," She repeated reproachfully. "Don't be nosy."

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's for my nephew," Charlie explained-and that was all he was going to say. "I wanted to get him some stuff but I'm not sure what to buy. I don't really know what's 'cool' anymore."

Did he buy graphic shirts? Plain ones? Should he also get some shorts to go along with it?

"Lucky for you, my son knows all of that," the woman said dryly. "Is there anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Not really," he shrugged. "I'm just kinda winging this."

"I do that all the time. Probably on things I shouldn't be winging."

Evan looked like all he wanted was for his mom to stop talking.

Charlie felt for him so he asked, "What do you think? Plain shirt or graphic one?"

He got the impression that Evan was grateful for the distraction. "Oh, uh," He started, "guess it depends on what he likes."

Well, that was a problem. Charlie didn't know anything about Logan.

Evan's mom chimed in. "I've learned that plain is the best unless you want to spend the next six months nagging them about when they're going to wear it."

Evan groaned. "Mom..."

"It was a cute shirt," She insisted. "It had these adorable little chickens on them and he loves chicken so I thought it was a great gift."

Evan turned to him, his face giving off an expression of long time suffering. "Just get him a plain shirt."

"Noted," Charlie said with a grin just as Evan's mom told him he was overreacting.

The three of them spent a good fifteen minutes or so picking out suitable clothes; a few shirts, shorts and even a couple pairs of jeans. He'd been notified ahead of time what size Logan was should he want to purchase anything for him. Granted, he was a bit malnourished when he was found by the police, so Charlie anticipated the coming months and went for a size or two bigger, figuring he would grow into it eventually.

"Oh, I guess I never introduced myself after that little spiel. I'm Alex," she said.

"Charlie, but you already know that."

Alex rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Listen, I really appreciate this," Charlie told her.

"It's no problem," She smiled brightly. "I know how hard shopping can be, especially for preteen boys. This one time-"

Evan yanked on her arm, whispering hushedly with undeniable embarrassment, "Mom, you can't tell Charlie Conway that story!"

It was like looking back on past conversations with his own mom.

When they'd parted ways, with him thanking her again, he let out a chuckle he'd been holding in.