Page 33 of Lochlan

I slip my hands to her waist. “Unless you want to give me a full-body massage, I suggest we try something else.” She uses my biceps to push away as I drop my hands.

She rakes her fingers through her hair, thinking. “Let's try this. Give me a smile.”

I look at her as if she's gone mad. “Why? I'm not going to stand in front of an audience and grin like a loon.”

“When we practice, we do drills. It loosens us up, so when we play, we're at the level we need to be. I know you can do it. I've seen you sometimes smile at the women in the tasting room.”

“That's a character I invented to deal with customers. Even if I could conjure him up for this presentation, the Wine Association members know me.”

“Then try smiling as you,” she encourages.

I try, the corners of my mouth tight with the effort. It doesn't appear to be winning her over, because she grimaces at the sight.

“That doesn't seem to work,” she says to herself, then beams. “What makes you happy?”

I think about it for a moment. “I haven't thought about fun in years. It's just getting through the day without someone annoying the hell out of me.”

“You lead a sad life, you know that? Get your coat and dress warm enough to be outside; you're coming with me. We're going to do some fun stuff that makes me smile, since you've lost all sense of fun.” She turns to retrieve her coat. “Oh, by the way, I'm driving.”

I pull my jacket from the closet, then rummage through a drawer to find a scarf, gloves, and a wool hat while Kenzie scoops up her laptop off the table. I follow her down to the parking lot. The wind and rain have stopped and all we need to contend with is the cold air. We get into her car and drive to an apartment on the west side of the city.

“Is this where you live?”

“Yeah, this is home sweet home,” she says, pulling up to a parking lot guardrail. She punches in a code and we drive in.

We walk into a messy apartment, with clothes on the couch and dishes still in the sink. The place is what they call “girly,” with most of the items in all shades of pink. I've never seen appliances in that color. I'm wondering where someone finds a pink toaster. It even smells like females live here.

It's a jarring contrast from the dark grays and blues of my room. I push a stuffed flamingo to the side and take a seat on the couch. “I'm guessing your favorite color is pink. Does this place make you happy?”

She glances around the room as if she's seeing it for the first time. “I wouldn't say it's my happy place; it's more like a sanctuary.”

“Then why are we here?”

“I didn't want to drive home from the winery at the end of our field trip. Give me a few minutes while I make some arrangements.”

We stay for about ten minutes more until Kenzie informs me we have a rideshare waiting outside. She instructs the driver to take us downtown. Kenzie chats to the driver while I stay silent and watch the lights of downtown go by. I've lived here for three years and never really explored my surroundings. I've been to Geordie's apartment, but we always ended up at a pub and not much else.

The driver leaves us in front of the Fairmont and I'm wondering if this is a joke, that she might take me to see Fiona. I stare up at the tall building. She's only an elevator ride away, the closest I've been to Fiona in years. The notion dies when we walk to the end of the block. It's a carnival atmosphere, where everything is decorated for Christmas, the people happy and the aromas of the season making me homesick.

Granda was unyielding in some areas, but with Christmas, he became a generous spirit. There were dinners with family and friends that he's known since childhood. It was at one of the Christmas parties where I met Fiona. She was not quite a teenager yet. Fiona was never plagued with the curse of an awkward adolescence; she was always lovely.

It was the school holiday that we spent time at the amusement park in Edinburgh near the royal mile. It's where Geordie and our friends spent time on rides paired with too much eating and drinking. This place reminds me of that park back home.

Kenzie slips an arm through mine and I'm struck by how she can compartmentalize. She treats me as a friend instead of a man who's blackmailing her.

She leads me to the strangest sight. It's an ice rink in a courtyard area between two high-rise buildings. That's not the strange part. What doesn't fit are the palm trees around the circle of ice.

“Do you skate?” she asks, leading me to the rink's rentals.

“I do.”

“Good. I don't, but I've always wanted to learn. You can teach me. That should be enough for a laugh.”

“You're willing to appear silly just for me to smile?”

“I'm an athlete. I play several sports; how hard can it be?”

After we strap on our rented skates, I lead her out onto the ice to help her get acquainted with the feeling of her blades on ice. She clings to me like a kitten, her fingers digging into my forearms as I skate backwards to allow her to skate forward.

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