A Christmas Delight

29. Chapter Twenty-nine

Chapter Twenty-nine

“ T hat’s not what I was thinking when I said I wanted to spend time together,” Mom says.

“Don’t worry, Mom. Everyone sucks at ice skating, you won’t be the only one.”

She snaps her head toward me and perks up. “Who said I was bad at it? You’re bad at it.”

I hand over the pair of skates that were loaned to us. “Then prove it.”

She grins, accepting the skates. “You’re on.”

I don’t care how bad I am at ice skating at this point. I’m glad Mom and I are doing something together in between my work and the fair tonight. She agreed to go home to Frank, but I didn’t want to let her go until we could do something special, just the two of us.

I’ve been eyeing that ice skating rink since my first day here, when I was walking to work for the first time. Christmas music is blaring through the speakers. People glide in circles, some skilled, some struggling. Some holding on to the wall. Little kids hang on to their parents’ hands.

Ice skates on our feet, we do the penguin walk to the rink, holding onto each other and laughing like children. We look ridiculous, and I’m not gonna lie, seeing my mother do something so silly is the highlight of my day. The fact that even she thinks it’s funny makes it ten times better.

Once on the ice, though, Mom glides gracefully. She wasn’t lying. She’s not bad at it, not at all. I plant myself on the ice, but I didn’t inherit her grace. Nothing new there. Instead, I do that weird slide-walk people do when they’re scared of gliding, making my mom laugh at me.

“You have to slide on the ice, Maisie. Not shuffle,” she says, holding her stomach.

“Really? I don’t think that’s right.”

It makes her laugh some more, and it feels good to be the one making her laugh for once. “Come on.”

She offers her hand, and I take it. She pulls me while I try to keep my balance, to stand straight. I knew I wasn’t good at it, but I didn’t remember being plain bad. It’s still fun, though.

After a while of Mom dragging me around, I say, “Why don’t you go around a few times? I think I’m gonna take a break. That way you’ll be free from your ball and chain for a little bit.”

Mom laughs and lets go of my hand. “Okay. Can you get back to the wall?”

“Sure. No problem.”

She leaves me here, gliding away gracefully. Many people circle me, or try to avoid me, and I struggle to bring myself back to the wall. Every time I want to move forward, someone cuts me off, nearly slamming into me.

Steeling myself, I shuffle forward, sometimes going too fast for my liking. A couple is coming in my direction. If I don’t get out of their way, and they decide to keep holding hands, they’re going to knock me off my feet. I lunge forward, my momentum putting me off balance. I right myself and let out a steadying breath when a man rams into me. The shock propels me forward, and this time I know there’s no way I’m not gonna crash. I brace myself for the impact with the hard ice, but my body is stopped mid-fall by someone standing in front of me, strong hands catching me.

“You okay?”

My breath catches in my throat. I don’t need to look up to know who it is. I recognize the red and black checkered jacket. I can smell wood dust on his clothes. The dull ache I’ve been trying to ignore since coming here comes back full force, squeezing my heart.

I look up finally, righting myself. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Joel lets go of me. He stands straight, clearly more at ease than I am on skates. He looks awkward, as much as I am.

“I’m gonna…” I point to the wall, hoping to escape quickly before he can say anything to me. I’m not in the mood for another public tantrum. I take a step, but someone else cuts me off.

“Here.” Joel takes my hands, and before I can protest, he pulls me toward the wall, looking unbothered as he glides backwards, and I remember Randall telling me Joel used to play ice hockey.

I let out a sigh of relief as I grab onto the wall for support and clear my throat, avoiding eye contact. “Thanks.”

I was hoping he would go away, but he stands there, his eyes on me. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“I don’t really have time right now. My mom’s waiting for me.” I look around the skating rink, and my mom is having the time of her life, not looking for me at all.

“Please?” Joel says. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

I meet his eyes. I hate how they make me feel, imploring me like that. It twists my heart. “Okay.”

Now that Joel finally has my attention, it’s like he doesn’t even know what to say, where to start. “It didn’t feel right texting you. But I couldn’t find the right time to talk to you. I didn’t want to bother you at work, either.”

“You said you’d make it quick.”

“Right.” He inhales. “I was a jerk to you.”

“Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I let my past and fears get the better of me. I didn’t tell you about Catherine because… I don’t even know, to be honest. I didn’t want her presence to taint us. To taint you. But I feel nothing for that woman.”

“Okay.”

“I got jealous of Finn. I got scared I would get hurt again.”

“I’d never do what your ex did to you.”

“I know, I know. I guess I was afraid that you’d realize you could do so much better than me. And I got into my own head and thought it’d be better to protect myself now before my feelings for you kept growing.”

I look up at him, still hanging onto the wall with one hand. My vision blurs a little.

He takes a step toward me. “I was an idiot. For hurting you, and for pretending that I wasn’t already feeling what I feel. For not realizing I was already in love with you.” He pauses, his shoulders dropping as he sighs. “I love you. And that scared me. Because we’ve known each other for such a short time. I’d do anything to undo the damage I’ve done, but if you hate me and never want to see me again, I’ll understand.”

In the days we’ve been apart, I have imagined him saying similar things to me. I’ve imagined what it’d feel like to hear him say he loves me. My heart longs to forgive him, to throw myself at him, to kiss him and tell him I love him too.

But my hand stays clamped to the wall. “Listen, I—I get it. I know what it’s like to have trust issues, to be scared of being vulnerable with someone. These feelings also scare me a little. But, Joel, you didn’t even give me the benefit of the doubt.”

He nods, running a hand through his hair. “I know.”

“It wasn’t even a conversation. You jumped to conclusions, and I couldn’t do anything about it. You feel bad about it now, but is this what it’s going to be like? Are you going to lose your mind every time a man talks to me? Because I don’t think I can do this. It isn’t my job to manage your insecurities.”

Joel’s jaw works under his beard, and his eyes glisten. “You’re right, it’s not.” He inhales and straightens. Slowly, he takes my hand and squeezes it gently, looking down at it as his thumb grazes the back of it. I let him do it as what is left of my heart shatters. Joel looks back up, his deep brown eyes meeting mine.

“Thank you for listening to what I had to say.” His voice is hoarse, but he pushes through. “I should have done better. You deserve better. You deserve the best. Take care of yourself.”

He brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, gently, then lets go of me and pushes off the wall. He exits the skating rink without looking back, and I have to turn away from the crowd so they don’t see me crying.