Fresh Ice

by Sarah J. Bradley

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. My mom was one of those women who just knew how things should be, you know? She made sure I always had the right clothes, that sort of thing. Now my dad, well, he’s a beer and brawling guy. He loves that I played hockey. He hates that I like wine with dinner. Speaking of which…” he nodded to the ice bucket which held two green cans, “If the Vernor’s isn’t to your liking, I do have some wine.”

  “Only if you’re having some.”

  “Don’t touch it anymore.”

  Izzy did not miss the change in his tone. “Sounds like something to add to the list of things we should talk about?”

  Quinn shrugged. “It’s an old story. Young idiot gets a truck load of money to play hockey. Young idiot spends several years being a young idiot on the party scene. Eventually, he stops being young, and realizes he has to stop being an idiot.”

  “I’ll stick with the Vernor’s. I’ve never had it before. It’s good.”

  “Ah, you’re not from Michigan then.”

  Izzy shook her head. “No, Tennessee born and raised, until I moved to Wisconsin with… Jason.”

  “It’s okay to say his name, you know.”

  She fidgeted with a napkin. “I know. It seems strange. I haven’t…I haven’t talked about him since I moved here.”

  “Do you want to talk about him now?”

  “No.” She lifted her glass to the light. “Tell me about Vernor’s.”

  Quinn filled her crystal glass with the fizzy beverage. “Best and only ginger ale worth drinking. I actually have this shipped in from Detroit. I’m a Michigan boy, except for my college years, and as far as I’m concerned, buying it anyplace but in Michigan makes it taste funny.”

  “A purist.” Izzy sipped her drink and smiled.

  Quinn filled his own glass and raised it to her. “A toast.”

  “Another toast?”

  “Sure, why not? How about a toast to bridges.”

  “Bridges?”

  Quinn’s eyes sparkled with mischief, “Building them, maybe crossing them.”

  “To bridges.”

  Quinn stood, “Now, you just stay put and I’ll bring in dinner.”

  A minute later he set a plate in front of her. “Wow, this looks amazing.”

  “Well, maybe I’m buttering you up for something.”

  Izzy glanced up from her plate. He’s going to ask me to…do it…over dinner?

  “Wow, do you look weird all of a sudden.” He sat down. “You look like you think I’m going to ask you to hand over your first-born.”

  “Good luck. She’s pretty tough. She’ll definitely put up a fight.”

  Quinn laughed. “Yeah, I can picture that. She’s got her mother’s determination.”

  “So, what is it you’re buttering me up for with this amazing dinner?”

  He hesitated setting his fork on his plate. “I’ve got this charity event this spring. It’s going to be huge. I’ve gotten commitment from NHL players, from all kinds of local celebrities. I’m hoping to raise a hundred thousand dollars for the Aubri Brown Foundation.”

  “That’s a ton of money.” Izzy blinked. “That’s the hockey player who lost a child, right? They raise money to help families who lose children and need counseling or other things.”

  Quinn nodded. “How did you know?”

  “Don’t look surprised. You’ve mentioned the charity a couple times.”

  “I’m not used to people listening when I talk about my charities, I guess. Anyway, I’ve got some local bands, some hockey people, even a few college figure skaters, but I don’t have that one sure draw. I need something, someone really, really good, and really unexpected.” He paused. “I could really use the Queen of Nashville Ice on my team.”

  Izzy’s fork clattered to the floor. “I’m so sorry.” She bent down and picked it up, her face flushed. “Quinn…I….”

  “Before you say no, hear me out. The Browns, they are a great family. But charity isn’t as big as it could be. I’ve wanted to do this one sort of mega event for a long time. I am trying to call in every favor I have coming and I’m making up several along the way. But today, when you were skating, I was blown away by the idea. If you agree to skate, even a little bit, I’m thinking we could do something like record the performance and sell the DVD. It would go a long way to hitting the goal.”

  “I don’t know what to say. I mean, I haven’t been on the ice in so long.”

  “You looked amazing today.”

  She sipped her ginger ale thoughtfully. “So, let me understand something. All of this,” she waved around the room, “and that business this afternoon with the music and the skating…the throw…and …”

  “The amazing kissing?”

  “Yeah, that. That was all so I would agree to skate at your charity event?” Something inside her deflated. So much for romance, I guess.

  The light in his eyes changed. “That’s what you think? Crap, I knew I was going to get this all wrong.” He left his chair and knelt next to her. “Let me try it another way. Yes, the skating, the music, was to sort of nudge you into wanting to skate again. But I could have asked you to help me this afternoon at the rink.”

  “When, before you tricked me into skating, or while you were kissing me?”

  She was surprised at the anger in her voice. Why do I feel like he’s using me suddenly?

  He took her hands in his. “The two things have nothing to do with each other. I’m asking you to skate at the charity event because I think you’d do wonders for a really good cause. I asked you here because…because…”

  Her anger passed, and she smiled at his awkwardness. “Because maybe the kissing was so spectacular, you thought a good meal might lead to more kissing?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Mr. Murray, are you blushing?” She laughed out loud and rumpled his hair. “I’ll say maybe. I’m not doing this alone. I’m a pairs’ skater. You’d have to skate with me.” She shook her head, surprised at her own eagerness to return to the ice.

  “What? No, I…”

  “That’s the deal. I can’t even think about it unless you agree to skate with me.”

  “How am I supposed to learn figure skating in three months?”

  “I’m going to leave that up to you.”

  Quinn sat on his haunches and studied her. “You’re driving a very hard bargain.”

  “Figure skating isn’t that hard. It’s all about knowing and trusting your partner. There are a lot of things I don’t know about you, Quinn.” She finished her dinner. “But how you feel about being on the ice isn’t one of them. And you already know a ton about me,” she stood and grinned at him, “more than I realized when I got up this morning.”

  “Okay, let’s just table the idea for now. Tonight I’d like to get to know you, the real you, a bit better.” Quinn cleared the table. “If you’re up for it.”

  “I believe I am.”

  “You’re not too tired?”

  Too tired to get to know more about you? “Not at all.”

  “You want to sit out on the balcony?”

  “Sure.”

  “Coffee?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Great, go get comfy, I’ll be out in a minute. Oh, take that blanket there,” he pointed to a basket near the patio door. “It’s a little chilly out there.”

  She stepped out and inhaled the clear, crisp air. She slipped off her shoes and curled up on the padded two seat glider, wrapped in the blanket like a huge cape. The lights of Nashville glittered across the night sky like miles and miles of neon stars. Izzy closed her eyes and let her other senses absorb the setting.

  “You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

  Izzy opened her eyes and smiled. “Not a chance. Thanks,” she took a steaming mug from him. “The view is just a lot to absorb.”

  “I know what you mean.” He stood in the archway of the door, looking at her. “I need to be honest about something.”

  �
��Sounds ominous. Do you want to sit down?”

  “Not until I see how you feel about what I’m going to tell you.”

  She didn’t miss the pained expression on his face. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

  “I’ve known who you were since Jason’s funeral. I was in town with the Admirals, and I heard about his passing and I had to see you. And when you bumped into me on the street, I knew who you were right away.”

  We changed our names. How would he have known whose funeral it was? Izzy stared at him, waiting for him to speak. “So are we going to dance around the phlegm wad you just dropped? Or are you going to be just a tiny bit more honest with me?”

  The haunted expression vanished and Quinn laughed out loud. “Phlegm wad?”

  “I have this very odd feeling, suddenly, like I’ve just walked into a movie where I’m the star, and I’m the only one without a script.” She bit her lip, not liking her sharp tone. “How about maybe you tell me why you’re a face in the crowd during the two biggest awful moments of my life?”

  She again waited for an answer, but Quinn kept his gaze fixed on the Nashville skyline. “Okay. Let me simplify the question: Why were you in the crowd at Nationals?”

  “Nationals?” Quinn drank deep from his coffee and shifted the weight on his feet. “How would you know that?” He set the coffee cup on the side table.

  What is he hiding? “Cat, it turns out, is not just a walking movie trivia encyclopedia. She is also a maniac for US figure skating. Today she put together the puzzle that is my life, and she lost her mind. Especially when I told her I was going on a date with you.”

  A faint smile crossed his face and he relaxed slightly. “Let me guess, there was a reference to ‘The Cutting Edge?’”

  “Oh yes. But the best part is, she has a tape of Nationals. So she, Jenna and I watched the routine.”

  “I’ll bet that was interesting.” He kept his gaze away from her.

  Izzy shook her head. “It was like traveling back in the worst time machine ever.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “At the time I thought it was the start of something so huge and beautiful.” She shrugged. “And it wasn’t. It was the end of my skating career. It was the end of my life in Nashville. It was the end of my girlish ideals about romance and love.” She realized she spoke without emotion, simply relaying facts. “I sat there watching that tape today and all I wanted to do was scream at myself.”

  He sat next to her then, as if some defense shield vanished, enabling him to move again. His arm was light around her shoulders. “If you don’t want to talk about this…”

  Izzy shook her head. “It wasn’t like I was watching me. I was watching some girl, some stupid, misguided girl who listened to some very bad advice.” She nestled into the crook of his arm. “Anyway, watching the routine was not nearly as interesting as the crowd shots between performances. I have to say, you looked really good with the longer hair. You’ve got a head made for a mullet.”

  “Oh lord.” Quinn laughed, pushing the glider back and forth with his foot. “I’d like to forget how dedicated I was to ‘hockey hair.’”

  “Which brings me back to my question. You were still in college, in North Dakota. What were you doing at a Figure Skating Nationals in the Twin Cities?” Izzy sat up as the glider came to a halt. Quinn seemed very far away. “Quinn?”

  “You want the truth?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Quinn turned to face her and took both her hands in his. “I’d seen you on TV a few times, and the way you skated, I connected with it. Watching you was like watching something really delicate and magical. I had to see you skate live. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going, I would never have lived it down with the guys on the team, you know.” He paused and looked deep into her eyes, the glow in his own eyes melting the icy edges of Izzy’s heart. “You left me breathless. I fell in love with you. At least, I fell in love with my idea of what you’d be like.”

  “Quinn…”

  “So at the funeral, I really needed to see if you were still, you know, you. And you were, just maybe a more fragile, more delicate version.”

  “But how…”

  He touched her lips gently. “If I don’t tell you this now, I might not ever. When I saw you at Second Chance’s, I was suddenly that stupid college kid again. The last few years I’ve started carrying so much garbage around, I barely recognize myself. But seeing you in the balcony, you made me feel like I was a kid again, anything was possible. I went to look for you later, but you were gone. I’d lost you again. When we ran into each other on the street that night, you were like a bird trying to escape a cage. We had this amazing meal together, I felt like there was this connection, and then I lost you again. Then one horrible rainy morning, I walk into my favorite Waffle House, and you’re there! It was a gift I was not going to lose again. I got be your friend, I got to know you, who you are, and I find out that you are the kindest, most thoughtful person I have ever met.” He squeezed her hands and took a deep breath. “And then, god, watching you skate today. You still left me breathless.”

  Izzy bit her lip, a single question tugging in her brain. “How did you know Jason and I were…us? I mean, we changed our names. I didn’t think anyone knew.”

  A shadow darkened his face and cleared so quickly, Izzy thought she imagined it. “I don’t know. One of the guys must have told me. Jason must have said something.”

  Who would Jason have trusted enough to tell?

  Sean probably said something to one of the players.

  Izzy shook her head, and focused on Quinn. His expression was unguarded, unlike any he’d worn around her. “Why didn’t you say anything before this? We’ve known each other for months, you never said a word.”

  He drew her hands up in his and kissed them both. “I was sort of…afraid.”

  “Afraid of what?”

  “Most people never have to handle half the life changing things you got fired at you in a few months. At first I thought I was just hanging around to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were okay. You bring out the protector in me. I liked feeling that way.”

  “Well, I do have that sort of helpless maiden quality.” She smiled at him, hoping he would hear the humor in her voice.

  He smiled back, but there was little joy in the smile. “Once I got to know you, I realized I was getting more from you than you were from me. You gave me something I thought I’d lost. You made me feel like a good person, like I could be a good person.”

  “You are.”

  He kissed her hands again. “No. I’m not. I’m a very bad person who does some good stuff on occasion.”

  Izzy hunched to look up at his face. “But you’re so wrong.”

  “It’s nice that you think so.” Quinn sat up and shrugged. “Before I saw you at Nationals, I was failing school, I was an idiot. You inspired me to get my act together. I went back to school, got my grades up, played the best hockey of my life, and managed to get drafted by Detroit. My dreams came true.”

  Izzy smiled, and tried to lighten the mood. “You’re welcome for that.” She snuggled back into the warm space beneath his shoulder. “I’m still not buying the idea that you’re a bad guy.”

  “Just wait, I’m not done.” Quinn shook his head. “You weren’t skating anymore, and that inspiration vanished. One by one, I ruined the things that should have mattered most. The first, my liver. I’ve done my best over the years to just destroy the bastard. The second…let’s just say that where there’s alcohol and professional athletes, there will also be women. Those two things hand a very big hand in ruining my relationships with my three brothers, and my sister, who won’t ever talk to me. I ruined my reputation in the league. I could have been something special. I had all the tools. What I didn’t have was the discipline. Detroit traded me to Chicago. Chicago traded me to San Jose. San Jose outright cut me after a lousy season and an incident involving three airline attendan
ts and a very large bottle of mescal. After San Jose, I spent some time in Toronto. I liked it up there. Close to home, I started to mend my ways. Then I got hurt, and they put me on waivers. That’s when Nashville picked me up in a trade. I spent some time playing in Milwaukee, with the Admirals, rehabbing the knee. Then I came here. Everything was great, I was back on top. Big fish, medium sized pond. And all my old habits started coming back. And then…” he stopped.

  And then what? Izzy waited a few heartbeats for him to continue talking. All she heard was the rhythmic beat of his heart. For all the honesty, there’s a part of the story he’s not ready to tell.

  “And then you showed up in my life. You were my own personal angel. Every time I saw you, talked to you, I felt lighter like a weight was lifted. So I didn’t tell you I knew who you were because I was afraid you’d run away.”

  Izzy sat up straight and brushed his hair away from his face. “How on earth could I run from you?” She kissed his forehead, “You’re my hero.”

  Quinn started to laugh. “I’ve never been thought of as any kind of hero.”

  “Are you kidding me? Today…that kid…you are totally his hero. You’ve been mine since the first time we ran into each other.”

  “Now I know you’re kidding.”

  “I am being completely serious. I was scared to death to move here. But then it turned out okay.” She closed her eyes. How could I not have thought of this before? How did I not put this together? “There were cards at the funeral. People put money in them.” She peered up at his face. His jaw tightened and he didn’t meet her look. “There was one card, it was unsigned, so I never knew whom to thank.”

  “Sometimes people don’t want to be thanked for something like that. They just want to know it’s going to be okay.”

  “It was more generous, I think, than that giver ever knew. There was quite a lot of cash and a lottery ticket.”

  “Really.” His voice was soft, far away.

  “That ticket was a winner. Enough for me to escape Adele and move here.”

  “Enough for you to live the glamorous life of a night waitress living in an efficiency? Not exactly the safety net a real hero would provide.”