Home In Time For Christmas

She hazarded a glance his way. “Pirate-themed bath-rooms? Sculpted ravens, skeleton art, fairies and ghosts and goblins all over—you’ll see. It’s so strange. I feel like I grew up with the Addams Family or as the normal child niece in the Munsters’ home.”

“Pardon?”

“Never mind.” She looked at him again and groaned. “How on earth can I give you a crash course in pop culture? Don’t—don’t you dare copy me! Pop culture is… what’s popular now. Too bad it wasn’t my dad who ran into you. He was a professor. He’d have you up to speed in no time.”

“Up to speed—”

“Oh, God!”

“No, no, I understand. I find it a charming expression.”

“Of course you do,” she murmured.

“Is that a problem?”

“No. It’s just that…oh, never mind. No. Are you always so…agreeable?”

“You wish me to be disagreeable?”

“No. I wish you to—snap out of it. And don’t repeat after me!”

“All right.” He was smiling, studying the scenery as they passed. “It’s so remarkable. We won the Revolution, and there have been many more wars. So many inventions. Remarkable.”

They had reached the pond. There were a few skaters out, and a few children running around the outskirts, laughing, throwing snowballs at one another. The bar—aptly name the Pond Bar—was just opening. Melody parked and stepped out of the car. She wasn’t sure what to do. She had driven to the pond because she was afraid she was already lying so much she’d start to confuse even herself.

But now…

“You’ve forgotten the skates,” Jake called.

“I suck.”

“Pardon?”

“I wasn’t lying, I’m awful.”

“Well, I’m a decent skater. Let’s give it a try, shall we?”

Skate. Maybe while she was falling on her ass she’d figure out how she’d gotten into this mess.

“All right, all right, bring them.”

There were benches by the pond. They sat down. The skates might have been somewhat modern compared to what he’d thought he had in the 1700s, but they were still basically skates. When they had both laced up, he stood, testing the way they fit, testing his own ability to walk in them.

“Aren’t you going to say remarkable, marvelous, fantastic—or something of the like?” she asked.

“They’ll do. Come on.” He stretched out a hand to her.

“You go. I’ll sit for a minute. Please.”

He watched her for a moment, then went out on the ice. At first, he moved slowly, testing the skates and then the ice. He picked up speed.

She watched him, feeling blank.

Keith picked up strange creatures. She picked up crazy ones.

A moment’s panic set in. What if he was really hurt? If his head had been badly bruised? Was she doing the wrong thing, keeping him away from the hospital?

She thanked God that Mark wasn’t due until Friday. He’d have given Jake the third degree by now, and the police might have even been called in. Mark wouldn’t have gone against her parents’ wishes; he’d have done it on the sly, certain that he knew what was best for everyone else.

So, great. What was she going to do? This wasn’t like Keith, bringing in strays when he was younger. Can we keep him, Mom, can we keep him?

She was going to have to figure something out.

A spray of ice brought her back to the moment. Jake was stretching a hand out to her again. “Will you join me?”

“I’ll make you fall.”

“No, you won’t.”

She was unsteady as she teetered out to him. “Look, I’m usually all right if I’m just going forward,” she said.

“You will be fine, no matter what we do,” he assured her.

And they were. If she hesitated, he was sure. He was so comfortable on the ice that his balance and support leant her a steady hand. He didn’t try to do anything outrageous; he just kept moving, picking up a decent speed, one hand supportive on her back, as they glided along.

Gliding. She was gliding!

The icy coolness of the air rushed at her face, and felt delicious. The world danced by them. She could hear the sound of their skates upon the ice, and it was exhilarating.

“Backward?” he suggested.

“No!” she protested in panic.

“You were born here, and you grew up here?” he asked curiously.

“Yes, I actually did.”

“It’s all right, you don’t even have to move your feet,” he said.

“But—”

“Trust me.”

“I do trust you—on the ice,” she said.

And he did prove to be trustworthy.

She didn’t have to move her feet.