Page 52 of At the Edge with You

Well, except her.

I look over at Fable, and her eyes are flooded with tears, her bottom lip trembling. I reach over, brushing it softly, and she sighs deeply, her tears spilling over. I catch each tear, wiping it away as our eyes stay locked in an embrace I’ve craved since themoment I saw her skating around in her little white leotard and sheer skirt.

Jami gives us a second, and I feel her gaze on us. I wonder what she sees. Two people reliving their past, brought together by a request from the grave? Fable takes a shaky breath as Jami continues, even though we aren’t looking at her. “I am proud to have watched you two grow, and my love for you, while it comes second to mine for my sweet Kitty, is all-consuming.”

Fable looks at Jami first, and I wonder if she’s feeling what I am. Our time skating together is running like a movie reel in my head, with Damien Rice’s “The Blower’s Daughter” as the theme song. Don’t ask me why, but that song has always described how I saw our relationship. My need for her was so great, but no one thought I was good enough for her. A forbidden love, I guess.

But that won’t be the case anymore.

Because there is nothing forbidden about how I feel for her now.

“Speaking of Kitty, she is the reason for my letter, not that it should surprise either of you.”

Jami’s words have my attention, and I groan inwardly. “Now what?”

“Exactly,” Fable mutters, her finger twisting around mine.

Jami grimaces but continues, “By year two, we knew you two were a force to be reckoned with. I would catch Kitty watching film of the two of you skating before she went to bed. She never missed a practice or a competition. I assumed it was because she cared for you both, but she told me once that watching you two skate settled her soul like nothing else could. Her truth made me wild with jealousy, but instead of pulling a Tonya Harding on you two, I decided to help you guys get even better so that Kitty’s soul was always at ease.”

I press my lips together to keep in the laughter. Fable looks at me, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Did my grandfather just say he wanted to take out our kneecaps?”

I nod. “Yes, which is terrifying, because I’m surprised he didn’t with how much he loved Kitty.”

She grins, her face bright and, thankfully, with no sign of tears. Jami giggles with us, but then she takes a deep breath, letting it out in a rush. She looks hard at the paper in her hands, and I notice a slight tremble along her fingers. “It was hard for Kitty when Jett went to play hockey and Fable went off to individual. She still loved watching you, my darling, but she was convinced you never smiled the way you did when you skated with Jett, and I agreed.”

That shouldn’t please me, but it does. I want to be the reason for every smile. Every laugh. Anything that makes her happy, I want it to be because of something I did.

“Now, I won’t hold anything over your heads. I just hope everything I’ve said convinces you two to honor my wish from the grave…”

I find that I’m holding my breath, and when Fable moves to the edge of her seat, her finger slips from mine. Not enough that we aren’t touching, but enough that I have to lean forward to rewrap our fingers.

“For Kitty’s birthday, I want you two to skate a short program for her. Make a huge deal of it. Decorate the rink in all the pink you can think of and then ease her soul. I know she’s hurting, I know she needs this, and if we’re all honest, you two could benefit from it too. Please, give me this one last request. Love you both, Phillip.”

Jami lays the letter on her lap, and all I can do is blink.

Beside me, Fable’s voice breaks as she says, “Kitty’s birthday is in three months.”

“I haven’t worn figure skates in twenty years.”

“I haven’t skated pairs in the same amount of time.”

Neither have I. “Would we even have enough time to make this happen?”

She’s silent for a moment as I gaze at her profile, obsessed with how her top lip turns up when she’s deep in thought. “It’s muscle memory. We could, but it won’t be easy.”

What would her parents say?

“It only matters what I think.”

Her words still have my heart beating out of its regular cadence. How did she know I needed those words? And now that I have them, I swear I feel a fire under my ass to make her mine. Phillip is right, and it took that letter to remind me of how we started.

How we thrived.

Together.

I want to give her the kind of love that Phillip gave Kitty.

She turns to me, our eyes locking as our chests rise and fall rapidly. I can see it in her eyes, her brain working overtime about how to make this happen. She wants this. The realization hits me out of nowhere, but her need to do this for her grandparents is shining in her green depths. As I get lost in them, I feel the urge to do whatever I can to make this happen.

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