Page 97 of Full Contact

“My dad did that once!” a girl shouted.

A few adults laughed.

“Rough day for your dad,” Callahan said. He angled the book toward the children on his left. “Can you guys see?”

One girl shook her head. He lifted it higher until she nodded, then read the next page.

A boy at the edge of the carpet raised his hand. “Have you ever punched somebody?”

“We’re doing truck questions right now,” Callahan said without blinking.

“Has the truck?”

Callahan looked down at the illustration. “I think he’s more worried about getting gas. Let’s find out.”

He turned the page. “He did!”

I moved closer, to where I could hear without becoming part of the circle. The librarian moved to stand beside me.

“I didn’t request a hockey player,” she said.

I’d seen the original request. It had come from the branch’s outreach staff, with a note at the bottom that said pending discussion with children’s services.

“I gathered there had been some discussion,” I said.

“You can send this one again,” she said.

“What changed your mind?”

She didn’t answer immediately. She watched Callahan lean toward the kids as he finished the book.

“He read the book before he came,” she said. “He arrived when he said he would. And the kids spent the first ten minutes asking him questions like whether he knew Varga, and how hard he could shoot, and whether he’d ever lost a tooth. He answered all of them.”

When the session ended, the room was loud. Kids grabbed the coats and boots. Their parents helped them get ready for the cold outside.

I walked with the librarian over to Callahan. “We’d be glad to have him come back,” I said. “I could also bring a photographer. Someone discreet. Families only, signed releases—“

“No,” she said. “The kids aren’t PR content.”

“Understood.” I held up the calendar on my phone. “Then here are two dates that work for us.”

She looked at them. “Those work for us too.”

“Can I come when it isn’t a team appearance?” Callahan asked. “When you haven’t booked a player. Just to help.”

The librarian looked at him for a moment.

“You’d need to go through volunteer services,” she said. “There’s an application and a background check, because you’d be working with children. Then an orientation. Most of our volunteers come Saturday mornings, our busiest time. It’s a two-hour shift.”

“That’s fine.” He had his phone out already. “Who do I contact?”

She told him. He typed the volunteer office’s contact information in.

“Do I go through Mark?” he asked.

“For your team appearance,” she said. “For volunteer work, volunteer services. They’ll contact me.”

He looked at me. I nodded.