Page 11 of At the Edge with You

“Of course,” she says, before taking a long sip. “He’s run the rink for the last fifteen years.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. He stepped into my spot when he came home after his stint in Ohio. I wonder if he was everything my grandpa had wanted in a partner. Dad wastoo obsessed with running the town, and I was gone, so of course Grandpa turned to Jett. Guilt settles in my gut as I run my finger along the rim of my glass.

“So, did it help clear your head?”

I glance back up to meet her gaze as I shrug. “Sorry I was late to the funeral.”

She waves me off. “Don’t.” She reaches over, taking my hand. “I’m just glad you made it. I didn’t think you would.” I press my lips together; I deserve that. I truly never want to be here. She reaches up, lifting the ends of my blond hair. “I love the cut too.”

“I almost shaved my head.”

She snorts, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, how your mom would have shit a brick.”

I grin widely. “Chad dumped me, and then you called—everything just hit at once.”

“I knew something else was in your head,” she says softly, gripping my forearm. “What happened with Chad?”

“I’m a robot,” I say with a shrug. And, of course, she doesn’t agree.

She tsks. “No, you’re not. You only open for people you trust. There is nothing wrong with that.”

I give her a dry look. “So, I didn’t trust him after a year?”

She shrugs. “He wasn’t that great.”

A laugh bubbles out of me as I slide my hand into hers. “Couldn’t have told me that?”

“I can’t tell you anything,” she quips, holding my gaze. “You, my darling, march through life to the beat of your own drum.”

I smile at that. She’s been telling me that since I was little. “I feel like I wasted a year of my life. He was leaving and packing his stuff, and all I felt was relief.”

“Because he wasn’t for you,” she says matter-of-factly. “The man who is will settle you in a way you’ve never experienced.”

Close your eyes. It’s only you and me.

My chest seizes, and I force myself to take a drink. The sour taste of the lemon tickles my throat before I place the glass down to meet Kitty’s gaze again. “How are you?”

She lets out a soulless laugh, her eyes dull. “Oh, I’m an utter mess.”

Tears burn my eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

Kitty squeezes my hand. “Oh, my darling. I helped you find your wings to fly, not to keep you in a gilded cage.”

A tear slides down my face as I hold her eyes that mirror mine. “How can I help?”

She runs her thumb along my knuckles. “Watching you skate did that. I miss watching you, and seeing you on camera was so soothing. Just having you here is helping.”

Her words hit me like a ten-thousand-pound weight. Surely she isn’t asking me to stay, because I don’t know how to say no. Soft footsteps sound in the hall, and we both look back as my mom enters the kitchen. Her dark-green eyes move between us, annoyance in her gaze.

“What are you doing?” she asks me, not her mother-in-law, since Kitty doesn’t take her shit at all.

I sip my water as I take in my mother. She has aged a lot since the last time I saw her. Wow, it’s been almost six months. I hadn’t even realized until right now when I’m staring at a very tired-looking woman. She was close with my grandpa. He helped a lot with the forest things she did since he was a logger back in his younger days. Unlike me, her hair is a yellow blond that curls in all kinds of crazy ways. She is skin and bones, her sleep dress two sizes too big. She presses her lips into a line, making the wrinkles along her mouth visible.

“Just visiting,” Kitty says, flashing her a dark look. “Can we not visit?”

“Sure, but maybe you should scold your golden child for being late.”

Kitty rolls her eyes. “She showed up, didn’t she?”

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