Page 41 of All She Wants

Erin laughed, kissed her forehead, and tightened both arms around her. She could have held Claire there all afternoon.

Erin began guiding her forward in tiny increments. Claire’s feet scraped rather than glided, producing a sound like someone filing metal. Her spine remained perfectly straight because bending apparently represented an unacceptable surrender of dignity. Her fingers dug into Erin’s forearms hard enough to leave marks through two layers of clothing.

A young woman sailed past them backward with her ponytail swinging.

Claire watched her go. “Show-off.”

“Bend your knees, Claire.”

“They are bent.”

“They are not even close to bent.”

Claire bent her knees approximately one degree. Her right foot shot forward, her left foot stayed behind, and she grabbed Erin’s coat with both fists as her legs split apart like a pair of rusty scissors.

Erin hauled her upright. “You’re doing better.”

“Ha, very sweet. But I think you’ve lowered your standards considerably.”

They inched forward together. Erin skated backward, holding Claire’s hands and pulling her gently along. Every few seconds one ankle buckled, and her whole body lurched sideways before she corrected. On skates, Claire had all the coordination of a newborn giraffe that had been placed on a frozen lake and told to figure things out.

“Just keep looking at me. You’re doing great,” Erin cheered.

Claire raised her eyes. For three glorious seconds she glided smoothly, surprise breaking across her face. Then her right skate caught a rut. Her arms pinwheeled. She grabbed for Erin, caught the front of her jacket, and pulled them both down in a tangle of limbs, scarves, and profanity.

They hit the ice together. Claire landed on top of Erin, one knee between her legs and her hat over her eyes. Erin’s elbow cracked against the surface, and her laugh exploded before the pain registered.

“Are you hurt?” Claire shoved the hat off her face.

“Only my dignity,” Erin said, laughing.

“Your dignity? I’m the one who just performed an involuntary split in front of forty strangers.” Claire dropped her forehead against Erin’s shoulder and laughed until her entire body shook. Erin wrapped her arms around her and laughed into Claire’s hair. Cold soaked through their clothes, but neither woman cared enough to move.

Getting up proved nearly as entertaining as falling down. Claire got one knee under herself, placed her blade flat, and immediately slid backward into Erin, who had just managed to stand. They grabbed each other and wobbled violently while a passing couple gave them a wide berth.

Erin repositioned them, tucked Claire against her side, and took her hand. They began a slow lap around the rink. Claire’s grip could have crushed walnuts, but her feet began to cooperate. Small, careful strokes. The scraping softened into a movement that almost resembled gliding.

Halfway around, Claire lifted her head and looked at the mountains instead of the ice. Sunlight flashed across the ice, and the snow-covered peaks rose beyond the rink beneath a clear blue sky. Her lips parted. “Oh, wow! Breathtaking.”

Erin squeezed her hand.

They completed the lap in near-silence. Claire leaned into Erin whenever her confidence wavered, pressing closer than balance required. Their breath made small clouds that tangled together in the cold air.

At the gate, Claire stepped off the ice and collapsed onto the bench as though she had completed a triathlon. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tumbled around her shoulders, and her knit hat sat crooked above one ear.

“Whew, I survived.”

“We did one lap.”

“One very magnificent lap.” Claire pulled Erin down onto the bench beside her and kissed her cold lips right there beside the rink.

Erin kissed her once more before standing. “Come on. I’ll take you home and make you hot chocolate. You’ve earned it.”

They drove to Erin’s house with the heat blasting and Claire’s overnight bag in the back seat. Erin unlocked the door, and Claire followed her inside, placing each foot carefully while her ankles continued to protest the afternoon’s abuse.

Erin filled the kettle, set it on the stove, and turned on the burner. She glanced over to find Claire leaning in the kitchen doorway, watching her.

Claire pushed away from the doorframe and crossed the kitchen. She caught the front of Erin’s sweater and pulled her close. “You were very patient with me today.”