Chapter 16: Father

Monday practice started at ten, and Ty was on the ice by nine fifty.

He had not slept.

He had read the notice in his father's folder six times, standing in Lars's kitchen.

By the end the capital letters had stopped meaning anything.

Lars had said only, "I'm coming."

Now Lars skated beside him in the warm-up lap and did not say anything else.

At five past ten Coach blew the whistle twice and brought them all in to the boards.

On the other side of the glass stood three men.

One was the athletic director, a thin, pale man in a quarter-zip.

One was the lawyer in the gray coat.

The third one was Richard Ingram.

He opened the gate himself and stepped onto the rubber mat at the edge of the ice.

He did not step onto the ice. He wore dress shoes.

The whole team went quiet.

"Tyson," his father said.

"Dad."

"Take off the skates."

Ty skated forward until he was ten feet from the gate. He heard the team shift behind him.

"I didn't promise you Friday," he said. "I said I'd tell you no in person. This is in person."

"I'm not here to argue."

"Then why are you here?"

"To end this." Richard's voice was even, and it carried the length of the rink.

"You're twenty," he said. "You have a place at the company with your name on the door."

"I know."

"You've played your game. You were good at it. Now you come home."

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