Page 203 of Ice Darling
Ray: I hate running into you everywhere.
Ray: How can you smile after what you did to her?
My heart skitters frantically in my chest. Did Mom put Ray up to that? Did she threaten him with something? Why is he suddenly apologizing?
Restless, I go for a ride. The wind tugs at my leather jacket, and the sky unfurls before me like a yawning black monster. Somewhere, behind all those clouds, are the stars Gordie’s always so excited about. But I can’t see them from here.
After my ride, I drag myself back to my apartment and check the time.
One a.m.
My eyes widen.
Time to climb into bed and stare at the ceiling until 3 a.m.
I shower, change, and lie down. My head is full of thoughts—mostly of Renthrow and Gordie. And Ray. And Mom. And Gwen.
She loved you,Mom had said earlier.
Did she? Even after everything?
Just watch it.
Mustering up the courage, I grab my phone and press play on the video.
Pink and blue helium balloons fill the background, and Gwen stands in front of the backdrop of a banner that reads “CONGRATULATIONS!” As usual, she’s glowing. Skin, dewy.Hair pulled back in a chignon knot with tendrils framing her model-like face. Lips parted in a soft smile.
“I’m not good at saying things in person,” Gwen speaks into a microphone.
The crowd laughs in disbelief.
“I feel far more comfortable in front of a camera.” She gestures directly to the videographer.
The guests laugh again.
Gwen rubs her belly. The bump is barely visible in her soft, yellow dress.
“My whole life,” Gwen admits, “I’ve prepared myself before stepping on the stage. My hair, my makeup, my smile, my speech, even my walk—I practiced, I planned, and what I didn’t plan, Mom took over and perfected to the last detail.”
The camera pans to my mom who’s sitting around one of the tables at the front. She waves primly.
“But,” Gwen says, looking down at her stomach, “I don’t think I’ll ever be fully prepared forthisstage. That’s both thrilling and terrifying.” She pauses a moment, a knot appearing between her brows. “In moments like these, when I have to step off script and walk into the unknown, where there’s no makeup team, no speech trainer, no catwalk coach, in the moments when there’s just darkness in front of me, and I have no clue when I’ll reach the light at the end of the tunnel…”
The room is quiet, everyone hanging on her every word.
“…I think of my sister Delia.”
Murmurs erupt in the room. Heads swivel, looking for the sister that’s being mentioned.
The camera pans through the tables at the front, exposing the shocked and uncomfortable reactions of the guests.
But when it centers back on Gwen, she’s smiling. “If it’s dangerous, if the path is hard, if everyone says she shouldn’t,Delia dives in. Since we were little, she’s been forging her own way and making it look easy.”
Gwen beams at the camera. “Those of you who know Delia can attest to this. She chooses what road she’ll take by whether or not someone’s been there before. She’s not afraid of being the first. It’s how she makes her mark.”
Gwen pauses and rubs her belly. “I may not have her spirit, but I hope my baby does. I hope that, in this new adventure, I’ll forge my own path too, without fear. Without a team. Just me. Mistakes and all.”
Gwen blinks and looks out at the crowd. “Isn’t that what parenting is? Figuring it out as you go along? There’s no handbook. Trust me. I’ve looked.”
