His mom chuckles. “Not close enough, apparently. He’s so protective of me that he’s trying to talk me into moving here. I know he’s worried about me living on my own as my Parkinson’s evolves, but I’m managing.”

I hesitate, unsure what to say or if it’s my place to say anything at all.

Admittedly, I don’t know a whole lot about her condition—no more than I know about the circumstances of her living situation back home—but if Declan is worried enough that he’s been talking to her about relocating here, then I’m assuming he has a good reason for that beyond just missing his mom.

I turn to her, choosing my words carefully. “Well, not that I’m trying to talk you into it or anything, but for what it’s worth, Denver is a great city. I was born and raised here, and the beautiful nature and mountain-fresh air makes it hard to imagine living anywhere else,” I say, and his mom smiles but doesn’t say anything. “But I don’t think medical stuff is the only reason he wants you here. He misses you a lot too.”

“He told you that?” she asks, her expression softening.

“He didn’t have to,” I reply. “Anyone can hear it in his voice whenever he talks about you. It’s all over his face too.”

His mom’s gaze drifts off to the ice to watch Declan skating with one of the kids. Surprising no one, he’s a complete natural with kids, and they seem to love him.

My heart does a little flip when I realize that he’s not just skating with anyone—he’s skating with a little girl in a sparkly pink helmet who looks absolutely thrilled to be on the ice with him. It’s clear that she’s having a blast, which makes me smile. He tends to have that effect on people.

When my eyes float back to his mom, her smile has faded away, but I notice it slowly coming back, almost like she’s working through some private thought in her head. Declan finishes a lap around the ice with the little girl, then drops her back off with her dad before he slides to a stop on the other side of the boards in front of us.

“Thanks for waiting while I hang out with the families. How are you two getting along?” he asks, his eyes darting between us with a hopeful expression. “Having a good chat?”

His mom gives him a warm smile. “Oh, of course. Hannah and I are getting along wonderfully. She’s been telling me all about Denver.”

Declan raises an eyebrow, looking pleasantly surprised. “Really? And what do you think?”

His mother’s eyes warm as she shakes her head and reaches out to put her hand on his forearm with a gentle squeeze.