Page 29

"You're really fast," she said.

"I used to be faster." I stopped in front of her with a hockey stop, ice spraying the boards, and she screamed laughing and jumped backward to dodge the spray. "Come on. Show me the crossovers."

She started skating backward along the blue line. I watched her feet. She was pushing off with even pressure on both feet, staying balanced, staying safe. That was the problem. The crossover required committing your weight to one edge, which felt like falling. Her body was protecting her from the lean.

"Forget your feet for a second," I said, skating beside her backward, matching her speed. "Think about your shoulders. Turn them toward the direction you want to go. Your feet will follow."

She tried, but she was using too much head and not enough shoulder.

I stopped, knelt on the ice in front of her, and put my hands on her shoulders. "Feel where I'm turning you. That's the direction. Your shoulders go there, and your feet figure out the rest."

I turned her shoulders slightly to the left. She pushed off. Her right foot crossed over her left, and for one smooth second, the crossover was there.

"I did it!"

"Do it again."

She did it again, then again. Each time the motion got smoother. By the fifth attempt she was linking crossovers in a continuous backward arc, her shoulders leading exactly where they should.

I stood at center ice and watched her circle the far end of the rink with growing confidence. She wasn't fast yet. But the timing was there, and the timing was the hard part.

Hazel looked up toward the bleachers. "Mama! Did you see? I did it!"

Janine was on her feet behind the glass, clapping.

We ran it a dozen more times. Each pass got smoother, her confidence building with every lap. By the end she was grinning so hard she could barely see. I finally had to call it.

"That's enough for today, bug. Your legs are going to be sore tomorrow if we keep going."

"One more?"

"Tomorrow they'll be jelly and you'll blame me."

She laughed but she listened. We skated back together and I helped her step off the ice. Janine was waiting at the bleachers with Hazel's bag.

"Mama, did you see the last one? I went all the way around without stopping!"

"I saw every single one, bug."

Hazel dropped onto the bench and started pulling at her laces, still talking. I sat down and started unlacing my boots.

Janine was looking at me. "That was amazing," she said. "You were amazing with her."

Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her green eyes were bright, and she was close. I could still remember how she tasted from the play. Sitting this close, with the cold on her skin and her breath visible between us, I almost leaned in to find out if my memory was right.

"Alex Holloway."

Lester Hale was walking toward us along the boards.

"Lester."

"I thought that was you out there." He shook his head. "Man, it's been years. You look good. You still move like you belong on that ice."

"Appreciate it."

"I mean it. I watched you take those laps. Same speed, same edges. Some guys lose it. You didn't."

"It's been a while."