Текст книги "Icing on the Lake"

Автор книги: Catherine Clark

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

“Oh no, Bear—I’m sorry!” I said as I ran over to him.

He jumped on me to lick my face. It wasn’t long before he had the leash wrapped around my legs, and I was about to go down with the Star Tribune box.

Please don’t be looking out the window, I thought as I slowly and carefully untangled the leash. I unclipped Bear’s collar for a second, and miraculously, he didn’t run off. He just sat there waiting for me while I unhooked the leash from the newspaper box and then tried to reset the box so that it didn’t look like it had just been vandalized.

Then I realized Bear wasn’t being obedient and sitting there waiting for me. He was waiting for Sean, who was walking toward us. Of all the luck. Did I have time to grab a piece of gum? Fix my hair? Anything?

Big city, but small neighborhood, I guess. I’d always heard that about cities, but I didn’t know how true it was.

“Hey! Kirsten, right?” he said.

I nodded. “Hi. How’s it going?”

“This puppy’s got some serious energy, doesn’t he?” He leaned down to scratch Bear behind the ears.

“The problem is that he doesn’t realize he’s not a puppy anymore.” I smiled. “I think I’m going to have to start taking him for really long walks. Or run a marathon or something.”

“You run marathons?” Sean asked, looking impressed—or startled, I wasn’t sure.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Doesn’t everyone?” I laughed nervously. “I mean, when I have to, I will. Like if I were being chased, I’m sure I could move quickly.” I was babbling like a fool. I was saying nothing that made sense. Why did I insist on making the least out of this situation?

“You plan on being chased?” Sean asked.

Well, it would be nice, I thought as I looked into his eyes. “Not exactly,” I said.

“Good. Hey, you should come down to the lake tomorrow. You know, like we talked about?”

“Oh. Yeah?” I asked. Did I ever say anything else when he was around? I got so tongue-tied, it was ridiculous. “I mean, yes, I should. Shouldn’t I? It would be fun.”

There was an awkward pause.

Come on, I urged myself. If you don’t make something happen right now, you might never be lucky enough to see this guy again. Who knows if it’ll snow again while you’re here? You can’t rely on Mother Nature to get you on a date.

“So when do you work at the rink?” I asked.

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” he said. “Nine until noon. Is tomorrow good for you?”

It is now, I thought. It’s a whole lot better, in fact. “We’ll try to make it,” I said, not wanting to sound too anxious about it. Just keep things casual—until I could tackle him.

And then Bear saw a squirrel and dragged me away before I could say anything else, which was probably a good thing.

Chapter 6

The first thing I saw when I woke up the next morning was frost on the window. I snuggled under the down comforter, where I was cozy and warm. I didn’t see a reason to jump out of bed.

And then I remembered: Sean had said he’d be at the rink that morning. We had a semi-date set up. I had to get down there!

I threw back the comforter, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stood up, and found my slippers and my fleece sweatshirt as quickly as I could. The house was so cold in the morning that you had to be prepared. Besides, you never knew when you were going to end up in the driveway in your pajamas. Ahem.

I went downstairs, opened the door and grabbed the morning newspaper from the top step. I shook it open to the weather section, where it said today would be a high of ten degrees. Not the best weather to take a toddler skating. But Brett was tough. Besides, I’d put so many layers on him that he’d be unable to move, but he’d be warm enough.

When I told Gretchen that we were going down to the lake, she looked up from reading the morning newspaper. “The UV Index today is zero point three. That’s the risk of getting a sunburn or skin damage. Why do they even bother reporting that? Anything under five is completely useless. Anyway, I don’t know about the skating. I thought you could spend the morning cleaning.”

“Uh…I could?” Quick. Think of something, I told myself.

“Well, unless you have another idea,” Gretchen said.

If I told her I was going down there to see Sean, she might even be supportive. But I didn’t want her knowing that I liked him, for some reason. She’d only tease me and tell me I didn’t have the right outfit on or something.

“Actually, the thing is, Gretch, I’ve signed Brett up for skating lessons. Well, hockey lessons. And the class starts this morning.” I looked up at the clock. “At ten.” That should give me enough time to get Brett ready to go, and to make myself look decent in however many layers it would take for me not to get frostbite. Also, I didn’t want to seem too eager by showing up at 9:01.

We didn’t actually have to skate long. We just had to see Sean and I had to talk to him and make him fall in love with me, or at least crush on me enough to go away with me for a weekend. That could happen in the warm rec building as well as on the ice. In fact I’d prefer going inside. It could take him a few minutes to get from barely knowing me to loving me.

“Really? Hockey lessons?” Gretchen didn’t sound as if she believed me. “For Brett? But he’s only three. He doesn’t even skate all that well yet. How’s he going to handle a hockey stick?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. See, it’s a class just for little kids like him,” I explained. “The rec center offers them. I signed him up when we were there the other day.”

“I didn’t see anything about classes there.”

“Yes, but you didn’t come inside,” I reminded her. This was turning out to be the longest, most complicated lie in history. Why couldn’t she just be glad we were getting out of her hair for a while? “It was posted on the bulletin board outside the office.”

She just stared at me.

“Big neon green sheet. You really didn’t see it?”

Still she was giving me that look of disbelief. Why would I make up children’s hockey lessons?

“Well, the class starts today. I’d better get Brett ready to go.” If I acted like it was true, then it would be true.

“Aunt Kirsten, we can’t skate here. We can’t!” Brett kept saying over and over as we stepped into the rink.

“Sure we can,” I said. I was holding Brett’s hands and guiding him along.

In the other rink on the lake, a bunch of guys were playing hockey. Choosing the empty rink seemed like a wise move to me. Considering I’d stumbled down the ramp on our way to the rink, nearly stepping on Brett with my skate, things were fine now. Things were perfect in fact. Sean was playing hockey, and when he was done, we’d talk, and—

“Aunt Kirsten we can’t,” Brett said again. “Mommy said—”

“Look, I realize I’m not the best skater, but this will be fine,” I insisted.

Suddenly a guy skated up behind us. Well, he wasn’t skating exactly—he was sliding on sneakers. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a gruff tone.

“I’m sorry?” I said.

“This is a broomball rink,” he said. “Didn’t you see the sign?”

And as soon as I glanced at the side of the rink, I noticed a sign on the wooden boards: BROOMBALL ONLY. NO SKATING. Actually there were about six signs like that, I saw as I scanned the rink. I’d been so busy checking out Sean that I hadn’t noticed.

“I’m really sorry—I’m just visiting,” I said as I helped Brett off the ice. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do. Sneakers only, okay? Get out,” he practically barked.

“Aunt Kirsten, Mommy always says we can’t skate here,” Brett repeated. “I told you.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.” I gave him a little hug. Next time I would listen to Brett more carefully. “Sorry, again,” I said as we gently glided out of the rink.

“Read next time,” the guy said in an angry voice.

“Sue us next time,” I muttered under my breath.

Fortunately, the game broke up a minute later and Sean skated over to us. “Ignore that guy, he’s insane.”

“Really.”

“Really. We’ve been trying to tell him that for years. I mean, you shouldn’t be on that rink wearing skates, but it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like you barged in during a game.”

“It seems like I have this habit of getting yelled at by the rink police,” I said.

“Rink police? Is that what you call us?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Isn’t that the right term?”

“Not exactly. But don’t worry. You didn’t even make it around the rink once, so I don’t think you did that much damage.” He rested his chin on his hockey stick and smiled at me. “We’ll go easy on you this time.”

How could I resist someone who looked at me like that? He was absolutely, extremely handsome. “Thanks. So. Anything going on here? Like a broomball game?” I asked.

“Nah. You just missed a pickup hockey game with some friends. Nothing special. Although my brother made a great save.”

“Save?”

“He’s a goalie. Goalies are strange. Did you know that? They’re obsessed.”

“And…this is your brother you’re talking about?” I asked.

“Yeah. And he’s even crazier than most goalies. Which means he’s way over the top.” Sean laughed. “He already took off for work, but you’ll meet him sometime, and then you’ll see what I mean.”

Ooh! This sounded promising. He was actually talking about me meeting his brother. That implied meeting the rest of his family. His parents.

Wait, I wasn’t ready for that. We’d barely just met.

Quit getting carried away, I told myself. So far you’re just friends, or vague acquaintances. Flirt. Think of a way to flirt. Do what Crystal or Emma would do.

It was hard to think of a way to look sexy or attractive when I knew my nose was red from the cold, my face was almost completely covered by a striped scarf, and if my lips weren’t chapped it was a miracle.

While Sean skated around with Brett for a minute, I quickly fished my strawberry lip balm out of my pocket and ran it across my lips a few dozen times, hoping at least a tiny bit would sink in and last for the next ten minutes.

While I was doing that, my cell phone started to ring. I fumbled for it in my jacket pocket, then nearly dropped it because I was wearing my mittens. “Hey, Emma,” I said as I finally answered it. “It’s really strange you called right now because I was just thinking of you.”

“You were?” Emma asked.

“You must have sensed it,” I told her.

“Actually, what I sensed was that I have no idea what to do here. See, I really wanted to invite Cameron to the cabin. So I was about to, you know, but then Mike called and he’s like, can we get back together because I really, really missed you over Christmas.” Emma went on for a few more minutes, describing the complicated situation.

“So, what are you going to do?” I asked.

“That’s the thing. I really don’t know. I mean, obviously I still have feelings for Mike, but then Cameron’s so sweet, and he gave me that bracelet for Christmas, and I know he thinks I’m going to invite him because I’ve been talking about it.”

I would kill to have those kinds of problems. Instead, there I was, chilled to the bone, trying to initiate at least one conversation with a guy who I barely knew. Which reminded me—I’d better get back to work.

“Emma—I can’t really talk right now,” I said as Sean skated back toward me. “Can I call you later?”

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “But I really don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Don’t worry!” I clicked off my phone. “That was my friend Emma,” I explained to Sean. “Her nickname is Emma Dilemma because everything’s a big crisis for her.”

I wanted to say: Speaking of a crisis…we’re planning this weekend. It’s in about a month. I’ve committed to bringing a date. Emma has two possible dates, while I seem to have none. Wouldn’t you love to come with me?

“So, are there, ah, lessons or classes or something?” I asked instead.

Sean smiled. “In broomball?”

“Sure. That, or skating in general.”

“I don’t know. I mean, sure, probably—for kids. That’s what you mean, right? For Brett here?”

“Uh…sure.” I smiled. “For Brett.”

We both knew they were for me, but he was nice enough not to tease me.

“I could, you know. Show him a few things.”

“Really?” My voice squeaked as I said that, and I cringed at the sound of my inner flirt. She needed practice. Badly.

“Should I get him?” I asked, in a more normal tone. I looked around and saw Brett sitting on the side of the lake, on a snow bank, molding shapes with the snow. He seemed safe there, but I’d have to keep a close eye on him. That boy could get into trouble in seconds, even if he would be slowed down by his skates.

Fortunately Gretchen had insisted on making him wear a bicycle helmet, so at least I didn’t have to worry about him cracking his head open on the ice.

“Well, maybe it would be easier if I showed you first,” Sean said.

“Oh. Oh?” I said.

Man, did I need to work on this talking-to-boys thing. I sounded like an idiot.

Sean took off his hockey gloves and got rid of his stick and helmet. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

“Well…the most important thing I can’t do is stop,” I said.

“Yeah. I noticed that.” He grinned as he came over and put his hands on my waist. Just like the last time when he’d done this, I could feel his hands were warm. “Watch my skates,” Sean said. “Ready?” He stopped so suddenly that he had to grab me and keep me from falling over. “You have to push against the outer edge of your skate blade. Let it catch the ice.”

“Okay. I hear what you’re saying, but I still don’t get it,” I said.

We skated back and forth in front of Brett, so I could keep an eye on him. Sean patiently showed me how to turn on my skates, and what angle I needed to use in order to push the blade away from me and have it catch the ice and therefore stop. It was sort of like skiing, but more scary because we were on the ice. I had this urge to tell Sean that he could show me how to stop, but that I wasn’t going to stop.

“Watch me again,” he said, and he skated in what must have been slow motion for him, to demonstrate how it was done. “Okay, your turn,” he said.

I couldn’t wait until we were done and I could call Emma back and tell her about this private lesson. She would die. If I didn’t die first.

Wait a second, I thought as I tried to push off with my skate. Speaking of dying. I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. “Maybe I—maybe I should get going,” I said.

“Really?” Sean looked disappointed, which I took as a good sign.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“Come on, stay,” he urged. “You’re starting to get it! Plus, this is fun.”

“The thing is…my feet. I actually can’t feel my toes exactly.” Somehow I hadn’t noticed this fact in all the time I’d been there, but it was suddenly very true, and very painful. I hadn’t felt cold, but now my extremities seemed like they were about to fall off.

“I’ll get Brett, you go inside,” Sean said. “Now. Hurry up.”

I nodded and sort of staggered up the wooden ramp to the building. Inside, the heater was blowing at full blast and I sat on a bench, shivering.

Sean and Brett came in and Sean crouched down in front of both of us. “You guys gonna be okay?” He started to unlace my skates, then Brett’s. “I’m off in like ten minutes. Can you wait for me? Then I can drive you guys home.”

“You can…come for lunch,” I said between chattering teeth.

“Sounds good. Put your feet right there.” He pointed to a heating vent in the floor. “Don’t move them until I get back.”

“So, how were the hockey lessons?” Gretchen asked when we walked into the house. She was sitting on the sofa with her laptop computer.

“The what?” Sean replied.

I coughed and then cleared my throat. It wasn’t such a big lie I’d told, but I definitely didn’t want Gretchen to start harping on me about how I had to be more honest with her. “Brett’s hockey class,” I said. “See, I thought there was a class. But I guess I read the sheet wrong.”

“Yeah, we have a league, for kids of all ages, but no official classes,” Sean told her.

“We learned some things anyway,” I said. “Didn’t we, Brett?” Like how nice it is to skate with Sean and how he’s the perfect height for me. “Until we got a little on the frozen side. Then it wasn’t so fun.”

“Kirsten, you never wear enough clothes,” Gretchen said.

“Oh, really?” Sean smiled at me, as if that weren’t necessarily a bad characteristic to have. “Actually, I did notice that when she ran outside in her pajamas the other morning.”

“And then she wonders why she’s never warm enough,” Gretchen said. “What do you think? Maybe she’s cold-blooded. Does that mean she’s cold-hearted, too?”

“Oh, yeah. In fact not only am I cold and unfeeling, I’m a reptile, basically. Thanks, Gretch.”

“Well, you did fall through the ice when you were two,” she reminded me—not that I had any memory of the event, just of this story being told every year at about the time everyone was asking, “Is the lake frozen yet?” I was like the poster child for waiting for a deep freeze before venturing onto questionable ice.

“Think about it,” Gretchen said. “Maybe that has something to do with the fact you can’t keep warm, Kirst.”

Or, maybe it’s the fact that I am Cursed, I thought.

“You did?” Sean asked. “Let me guess. Were you trying to learn how to skate?”

I glared at him, but I couldn’t help smiling when I saw the look he was giving me. Half amused and half flirty. “It was the pond near our house. I think Gretchen was the one who thought it’d be a nice idea to teach me how to skate even though the ice wasn’t thick enough yet.”

“Oh, no, you’re not blaming this on me,” Gretchen said with a laugh. “You ran out onto the ice. No one could stop you. Then we heard this awful cracking noise.”

“Sounds like something Brett would do,” Sean commented.

“Doesn’t it, though?” I agreed. “We must share the same genetic adventure…ous…ness.”

We both looked at each other and grinned. He seemed interested. Was he, though, or was he just being friendly?

There was no way I’d find out with Gretchen and Brett around. It was hard to really talk with Gretchen sitting right there. Couldn’t she tell we needed some alone time?

But no. She refused to move off the living room couch from the hours of 9 A.M. to 9 P.M., making privacy a little difficult. She was starting to learn all the TV schedules. She knew soap opera plotlines. She’d seen all the TLC makeover shows at least twice.

“I wonder if we could go somewhere maybe like…without Brett sometime,” I said. I looked meaningfully at Gretchen. She didn’t respond.

“You know what would be fun? Before school starts again and I get totally busy, a bunch of us could go skiing at Buck Hill or something,” Sean said.

“That sounds perfect—”

“No way,” Gretchen interrupted me.

“Yes way,” I said, looking at Sean. Did she seriously think I couldn’t have one afternoon off to go out with Sean?

“I’m telling you, Kirst, don’t go skiing. You’ll break something.”

“No, I won’t. What do you think, because you broke your leg skiing at Lutsen, I’m going to break mine?” I asked.

“And if you break your leg, too, we’re going to be in such deep trouble—” she went on, not even listening to me.

“I wouldn’t!” I cried.

“Kirsten. You’re not the best skier. Be honest.”

I couldn’t believe her. Why was she trying to shoot me down in front of Sean all the time? She thought it was funny, but it wasn’t. “What? There’s nothing wrong with my skiing.”

“Remember the time you wiped out going down Lutsen Mountain and you nearly impaled yourself on a rock, and Mom and Dad had a heart attack?”

I glared at her. Did she have to tell every embarrassing story in the world about me to Sean? “Gretch? I was seven. It was the bunny run.”

“Still.” Gretchen started laughing. “Your legs wrapped around you three times. You looked like a pretzel. See, Kirsten was super tall and skinny for her age. Her legs practically went up to here.” She tapped her shoulders.

Sean looked at me and smiled, and I sort of sank down on the sofa, trying to look shorter. I am not all out of proportion, I wanted to say. My body has all the necessary parts now. I went through some major growth spurts, okay?

He was looking at me with a kind of knowing smile. “You still have long legs,” he said.

“Come on, Sean. Let’s go to the kitchen and make lunch,” I said. “You’re probably hungry and I know I am. And so is Brett.”

“I’ll have a salad!” Gretchen called to us before she turned the volume back up on the TV.

“Which you can make yourself,” I muttered. “The great thing about my big sister is how incredibly supportive she can be,” I said as I got some bread, cheese, turkey and other fixings out of the fridge.

“What do you mean?” Sean asked.

I shook my head. “She just—like, she still has to get her shots in. Like we’re still kids or something.” But that didn’t make sense, since we’d never really been kids at the same time, had we? Not exactly, anyway. Was she making up for lost time, since she couldn’t exactly pick fights with me when she was eight and I was two?

“Okay, so if she’s dead set against me skiing, that doesn’t mean we can’t do something else,” I said. “How about tomorrow? I mean, I was going to ask if you were, you know, free.”

“In the afternoon I am,” he said.

“Okay, so how about like, ah…”

“How about something indoors?” Sean said. “Since we don’t want your frostbite to kick in again.”

“That would be bad, wouldn’t it?” I smiled, thinking that I liked the sound of “indoors.” Was I supposed to suggest snuggling on the sofa at his house and watching a movie? There was a fine line between being a flirt and sounding desperate. I’d never had a chance to cross the line, myself, but I’d seen others sprint past it.

“Well, not to do the typical out-of-town visitor thing, but have you been to the Mall of America yet?” Sean asked.

I nodded. “Sure, a few times, but I can always go again. That sounds fun.” I’d have to make sure I didn’t mention it to Gretchen, or she’d insist on coming along. She couldn’t resist the pull of the mall.

“We could walk around, maybe go to a movie. I have hockey practice all morning and a game at night. How about three o’clock or something like that?”

“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll just clear it with Gretchen and then—”

“Clear it?” he asked. “What, is she like in charge of you?”

“No! No, of course not,” I said. “It’s just that I’m sort of in charge of taking care of Brett. Since she can’t move around as quickly as Brett does.”

“No one can,” Sean joked. “He can be out the door and across the street before you even blink.”

“Exactly!” I said. “He’s very fast. So I’ll just make sure she knows she has to be here—set him up with a video or whatever.”

“Sounds good,” he said, settling into a stool at the kitchen counter. “So what kind of sandwiches are you making?”

I grinned. “Grilled. Hot. Something like that. You like cheese? Turkey and cheese?”

“Make three for me, okay?” Sean turned on the TV in the kitchen and quickly found a college basketball game to watch. I handed him a bag of potato chips that I’d stashed in an out-of-the-way cabinet so that they didn’t tempt Gretchen.

After I put four sandwiches together and put them onto the panini grill, I quickly threw a small salad together for Gretchen. I carried the bottle of low-everything dressing in for her, with a PB&J sandwich for Brett.

“Did you ask him to look after me when I was here, or something?” I asked her in a low voice as I set the food on the coffee table in front of her.

“No. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind,” I said. I just wanted to make sure that whatever was happening…was happening because it could. Not because it should. “Enjoy your lunch!”

When I went back into the kitchen, Sean was polishing off the bag of chips. I grabbed a couple of sodas from the fridge and handed him one. Somehow I had a feeling that my lunch would be a lot more fun than Gretchen’s.