Page 80 of Actions and Reactions
November
The work is starting to feel like it’s worth it when Dave asks me if I want to go ice skating with him the day after the first snowfall. I didn’t know field trips would be a part of this whole process, but the chance of going out, getting into a car, and driving away makes me forget for a few hours what the purpose of the outing is.
“I haven’t skated in fucking years, Dave,” I tell him once we’re there.
“Please,” he scoffs as he bends over to lace up his rented skates and points to mine which are already laced up. “You got that done in less than a minute. And aren’t you always telling me how young you were when your parents first taught you to skate? There’s no way you’ve forgotten anything, and since I’m not gonna push you into the boards, and you won’t fall, you won’t get injured or upset your knee.”
“I know, but...” Dammit, why is it so hard to think of a good reason not to do this?
I look down at my hand and take off my glove. The scars are fully healed and nothing hurts anymore, it only gets sore when I spend a lot of time writing in my notebook, but otherwise I got lucky with no repercussions for my stupid-ass decision to punch a wall.
“Come on,” he cajoles and pats my arm. I stand with him and put my glove back on, then follow him to the entrance of the rink.
He glides onto the ice before me, and it’s quickly obvious that he’s a good skater when he spins and skates backward for a few feet before turning again.
I don’t know exactly why, or if it’s a good thing, but his little smile lights a spark inside me that’s been dead for too long.
Competition.
I fucking love that feeling, of wanting to be good at something, of wanting to be the best. I think the last time I felt it was junior year of college when I took Professor Deleon’s class, which is a famous class on campus becauseno one ever gets an A, and I fucking busted my ass all semester and got my freaking A.
I want to earn an A for this too.
And I know it’s not a test, or a real competition, but I want to feel that sense of triumph so fucking badly.
So I take one step, then I glide over to the other side, and I’m free.
We spend two hours at that rink, and Dave laughs periodically as he watches me.
I’m definitely not in the same shape I was in seven years ago, so I can’t go as hard as I used to, but I don’t even need to.
Feeling the biting cold on my cheeks, drying up my eyes, and freezing my ears is better than anything since...
Since the first time Vinny kissed me.
That tells me most of what I need to know about what I want for my future, and I tell Dave the next day, when I’ve had time to think it through, and again, all he does is smile and laugh, as delighted as I am at the difference two months has made.
Colin graduates too, one week later, and then it’s Louis who’s leaving.
There are no new patients coming in for now, and I don’t know if that’s deliberate or not, but Thanksgiving week I ask Dr. Jody about an idea I had, and she agrees.
Colin, Helen, and Louis all had family coming in every Sunday. Sometimes a few people, sometimes only one or two, but Annie and Consuelo never get any visitors. Neither of them talk about why that is either, so instead of having abig celebration over the holiday that’s mostly centered around family, we all go to the rink I went to with Dave.
My family does come, as do their therapists and Dr. Jody, and Lottie teaches Annie how to skate while Dad teaches Consuelo, who just shines at all the attention he gives her.
In all the weeks I’ve known her, I’ve never seen Annie touch anyone, and she shies away from men. She’s the one who always scoffs at me if I’m bullshitting during group therapy, and she lets me rant about anything and everything at dinner since she started sitting with me after Colin left.
I think she felt safe with him, and who could blame her, but the fact that she now feels safe with me is a huge privilege I don’t take for granted. The other day, though, I reached out to pat her arm without thinking and she flinched.
It broke my heart, but I think I masked it well. Today, though, I feel like some part of me heals when she takes Lottie’s hands easily. And an hour later, when she glides over to me pretty fast and starts waving her arms around frantically, I don’t know what I’m more scared of, catching her and having her freak out on me, or not catching her and letting her fall or crash against the boards.
In the end, I go for the pockets of her parka and hold her as gently as I can and bring her to a standstill.
“Fuck that was close,” she mutters, and I can feel her shaking a bit. I let go and glide back a foot so I’m not crowding her, and instead of saying anything about it, she just smiles at me then turns. “Thanks for the catch!” sheshouts over her shoulder, and she’s off in Lottie’s direction again, too fast and uncontrolled.
But her blond hair is flying behind her, no longer in pigtails.
Her brown eyes are shining with simple fun.
