Page 93 of The Cannon
That’s no lie. I exit the truck and come around to her door.
“Take my hand, lovely.”
She places her delicate fingers in my palm. “Well, thank you kind sir. This is so great! Maybe I’ll call my Mom and tell her we’re going to be late. Forty-five minutes isn’t long enough.”
Didn’t see that coming.
“Wait. First let’s see if I’m going to be able to stand up on the skates. This may be a very short visit to The Skate Palace.”
I guide her up the walk and into the doors. The lights are bright, the music is playing, but the place is completely empty except for the one teenager manning the check-in desk.
“This is odd. Where’s everyone? I was here a few years ago and it was packed,” Bristol says.
“Don’t ask me. It’s Christmas Eve. How many people spend the night skating?”
We walk up to check in and right away the kid’s pissing me off. The look on his face is saying “I know something you don’t!” Fuck.
“Hi,” Bristol says trying to read his expression.
“Sizes?” he says looking at me without blinking.
Shit, kid. You’re supposed to make me pay first.
“Oh. Yeah. You need to pay first,” he says as if reading my mind.
I roll my eyes making sure he sees them. As I take out my credit card, I try to distract Bristol.
“So, what size are you? I’m a twelve.”
“Eight. What’s so funny?” she asks the smiling kid.
He straightens up and takes a new tact. “Nothing. I just recognize Sawyer Tom. Let me get your skates.”
Good one, kid.
Bristol leans in. “But he was staring at me,” she whispers.
“Who could blame him?” I say taking her in my arms.
With our skates we walk out to the edge of the ice rink and take a seat on the bench. The scene looks just as I hoped. Otherworldly. Romantic. Deserted. The music comes to an abrupt halt. Okay kid do not mess this up.
“Oh! Isn’t this the most beautiful setting? They’ve added the fairy lights. I absolutely love those. We’re the only ones here!”
“Good. Now only you will see me look like a fool.”
We lace our skates and I attempt to stand. Shit! It’s hard to even do that. My legs feel weak and I know why.Calm yourself.
She stands effortlessly and grabs ahold of my elbow. Just to steady me. Trying with all her might not to laugh, she guides me to the edge of the ice. Hope the kid is watching. He is. The right music starts. “Chestnuts Roasting On An Open Fire”lifts in the air.
“Great song,” I say innocently.
“Did I tell you it’s my favorite Christmas carol?”
“I don’t think so,” I lie.
We step on the ice. I try to maintain balance and it takes a few steps to achieve. At the far side of the rink a door opens, and someone dressed as Santa takes to the ice.
“Oh! Santa showed up! Cool,” Bristol says.
