Because of Francie

by Karen Rose Smith

"We'll fix you up with an old pair of Vince's or Frank's."

  "Not giving me an out are you?"

  "Do you want one?"

  That pause again.

  "Noah, I like being with you."

  "And I like being with you."

  "Come skating?"

  "Do you want to ride to the farm with me?" he asked.

  "Sure. We can take the scenic route along the battlefield. Have you seen it yet?"

  "No."

  "We can climb up to Devil's Den if you're game. The sun's melted the snow."

  "That sounds good."

  "See you in a half hour?"

  "A half hour."

  "Francie?"

  "Yes?"

  "Don't forget your scarf."

  She heard the smile in his voice and she smiled too. "I won't."

  ****

  Noah stared into the bonfire that Francie's brothers and uncle had lit as it reflected on the silvery surface of the pond. He and Francie had toured the Gettysburg Battlefield for over an hour, stopping at some of the state monuments, climbing up to Devil's Den, a natural rock formation from which the Confederate soldiers had routed Union troups. He and Francie had climbed up the natural stone steps, scrambled over rocks, then come to the farm for a light supper and renewed warmth before going out onto the pond.

  Francie's family skated as if they'd been doing it all of their lives. He supposed they had. Paul had found a pair of Vince's old skates for Noah. He hadn't skated since the winter he'd lived in Philadelphia. He'd scrounged money wherever he could find it for an afternoon on the ice at one of the hotels with an indoor rink. He'd never been proficient, but he'd stayed on his feet. Back then.

  Francie flew by him as she skimmed across the center of the pond. Yesterday evening in his car had almost been his downfall. One kiss had led to another and then another until the windows steamed and his blood had run like hot lava in his veins.

  Tearing away from Francie—removing himself from her warmth, reminding himself loving her kisses and needing her body under him weren't the basis of commitment and he didn't know what was—had been difficult, if almost impossible. But moving to the driver's seat where he was in control, not his needs, not the allure of Francie's sweetness, had been the necessary and responsible thing to do. Watching her now, even all bundled up in jeans and her down jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck, the aching for her returned, an aching that went deeper than needing sexual release.

  Angela came over to him at the small boat dock and sat next to him on a double layer of blankets. "I haven't seen you on the ice."

  He smiled. "I'm waiting for the right moment."

  She turned toward Francie as her daughter spun in a circle, her arms raised above her head. "Isn't she beautiful?"

  "She is."

  "It will be a loss if she doesn't go back to skating," Angela mused.

  "Whose loss?"

  "The family's. Hers."

  "Even if skating isn't what she wants?"

  "Look at her! How can she not want it?"

  "Right now she's skating with sheer delight, the utmost pleasure. But I saw her practicing with Brent. The joy wasn't there."

  "It'll come back."

  Noah debated with himself for a moment, then responded, "You've been kind to me, Angela. And I'm not treating that kindness lightly. I hope you'll understand I mean no disrespect when I say that it's not fair for you to push Francie into what you want, rather than what she wants."

  "And what do you want, Noah Gordon? Can you offer my daughter better?"

  Angela's attitude had changed toward him recently, becoming more cautious. She could probably sense the vibrations between him and her daughter. "I'm not making any offers." And he was suddenly fiercely jealous of any man who could. A man who could offer Francie stability, a house with a picket fence, the whole package.

  "If you can't ask Francie to share your life, maybe you shouldn't try to influence hers, either," Angela retorted.

  Score one for Mrs. Piccard. As Francie had said once, everyone had their own agenda. Noah couldn't claim to be impartial anymore. "I want Francie to be happy."

  "So do I, Noah," Angela assured him with a sincerity he believed. "We just disagree on what will make her happy."

  They watched Francie as she picked up speed and executed a double toe loop.

  "Have you ever watched her work with children?" Noah asked. "She thinks she might want to be a teacher."

  Angela spared him a quick glance, then looked back at Francie. "She told you this?"

  "Yes. She's wonderful with the children at the rink." And she'd be wonderful with children of her own.

  "I didn't know she was considering teaching. She'd have to go back to school."

  "She's weighing all her options, Angela. Whatever decision she makes will affect the rest of her life."

  Angela let out a breath that puffed white in front of her. "Sometimes I wonder if I know either of my girls. Gina... Francie. The boys were easier to raise."

  Francie skated over to Noah, spraying snow shards when she stopped in front of him. "Are you ready?"

  When she tilted her head, the moonlight flickered in her hair, giving her a silver halo. The scent of flowers from her perfume brushing him with the slight breeze, along with her huge brown eyes and feminine appeal, wove a spell around him. He responded as vehemently as if she'd undressed in front of him.

  "As ready as I'm going to be."

  Francie grabbed his hand like a youngster eager to show a friend something special, and he felt as if the starlight had touched his soul. "Then let's go," she said.

  To steady the pounding beat of his heart, he quipped, "You know, I could be working out on the skiing machine, rather than risking life and limb on the ice."

  "You risked life and limb yesterday. This'll be a cinch compared to driving home from Hershey."

  With a last glance at Angela, he tentatively glided forward.

  ****

  Noah stepped into Roller-Fun Thursday morning and could feel something different. All the lights glowed brightly. That was unusual at 9 A.M. Today was February fourteenth. Exactly what did Francie have up her sleeve? She'd acted like a kid last night after the rink closed as they'd watched a comedy with her parents and laughed together. That had been nice.

  He'd enjoyed the past few days more than he'd enjoyed any time in his life. Because of Francie.

  Monday night as they'd explored the battlefield and skated on the pond, he'd realized he needed to spend these last few days with her, fill his life with her spirit and smiles, so when he left, he wouldn't feel so empty. They'd formed a friendship frosted with kisses Noah kept under control. It was more than he'd ever had with a woman...a closeness that superceded physical intimacy.

  When he made his way to the rink area, his heart practically stopped. Francie was perched on the top of a stepladder, tying silver streamers to the ceiling. No one steadied the ladder.

  Frowning, he shucked off his jacket and threw it onto a seat in the lobby. Hurrying toward Francie, he noticed Veronica and three other employees attaching decorations to the walls.

  He stood at the base of the ladder and held it steady. "Isn't it a little early for you to high dive from a ladder?"

  Francie wrinkled her nose at him. "I'll have you know I'm a very balanced person. Careful. Methodical."

  He held out his hand to her. "Come down. I'll do that."

  She pursed her lips. "Haven't you been listening?"

  He kept his palm upturned, waiting for her. "Yes. But I don't want anything to happen to you."

  Her gaze just about melted him. She took his hand and descended the rungs. With a smile that could light up the whole continent, she waved her hands around the rink. "What do you think?"

  Even an alien from Mars would realize it was Valentine's Day. From the signs proclaiming the day, the shiny hearts, and the red and silver streamers, the holiday was evident everywhere he looked.

  "It seems as if you're going to have a part
y."

  "We are. Just you wait until tonight. And don't go into the lounge, okay?"

  He studied her for a moment. "How long have you been here?"

  "Since seven. I hope I don't crash before tonight. I'm so excited."

  "You don't have classes all afternoon, do you?"

  "I'm free from two to four. Why? Is there something you want me to do?"

  He slung his arm around her shoulders in a brotherly fashion. "Yes. Go home and take a nap."

  "I can't. I have to supervise--"

  "It looks to me as if everything's under control and it's not even noon." He couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from twitching up.

  "Are you making fun of me?"

  Her lips glowed with soft pink fullness he wanted to kiss, then kiss again. He slid his hand to her left shoulder and rubbed soothingly. "No. I'm complimenting you. That's why you're such a good manager. You cover all the bases with time to spare. It's also why you'd be good in a classroom."

  She studied the buttons of his shirt. "Have you heard from Tom Carson about Haslow and Chesterfield?"

  "He thinks they're ready to make an offer. I told him not to push it."

  "He wants his commission."

  "Francie, I told you I'd wait until after tonight to make a decision and I will. Trust me."

  She searched his face and he didn't know what she was looking for. "I'll trust you, Noah. Can you trust me?"

  "I already trust you, Francie." In his heart, he knew it was true.

  She smiled and stroked his cheek. "Then take the afternoon off. Don't come to the rink until seven tonight. Will you do that for me?"

  He'd found he'd do almost anything for her. "The rink won't disappear while I'm gone?"

  "The rink will be waiting for you and so will I."

  Noah mulled over Francie's words, then chastised himself for being foolish. She'd meant she'd be waiting for him tonight, nothing more. Yet they unsettled him enough that instead of working all afternoon at the apartment, he took another drive on the battlefield. And then he walked, his mind on Francie.

  While the sun blazed on his hair, wind brushed by him. He passed by a cannon and another memorial. Gettysburg was a town rich with history, and it would be rich with memories for Noah when he left. Memories of Francie.

  ****

  At a little after seven, he arrived at the rink. The parking lot overflowed, and some customers had parked their cars along Route 30. Paul stood in the lobby talking to a group of men. He waved at Noah and went back to his conversation. Noah stared in amazement at the line of customers that extended from the ticket window to the outside door.

  As soon as he opened the door into the foyer area of the rink, Angela approached him, a newspaper under her arm. "Look at this crowd. Her ads worked."

  "What ads?" Noah asked.

  Angela opened the paper for him to see. "She's run this since Monday."

  The ad took up a quarter of the page. Hearts danced around the border.

  COME SHOW YOUR SWEETHEART HOW MUCH YOU CARE,

  COME WITH YOUR RELATIVES AND FRIENDS TO SHARE--

  VALENTINE'S DAY AT ROLLER-FUN.

  BRING YOUR HEART, YOUR SWEETHEART, YOUR FRIENDS.

  Noah heard a booming voice blast over the public address system. "Get your balloon and have Cupid deliver one to the person you love. See Veronica in the employee lounge."

  "He's the deejay from the local radio station," Angela explained. "Francie's made this quite an event, hasn't she?"

  She certainly had. A successful event. "Where is Francie?"

  Angela grinned. "Just look for a streak of red. That's her." The grin faded and Angela looked uncertain for a moment.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Brent called the house before I left. He couldn't reach Francie on her cell. It's probably in her duffel and she didn't hear it."

  Noah felt his muscles tense. "What did he want?"

  "To see her."

  "He wants her to drive up again?"

  "No. He's here. In Gettysburg. I told him she'd be busy tonight. He ignored that and said he'd come over to the rink later. Maybe he'll think about it and change his mind."

  Noah knew full well what McIntosh wanted. If McIntosh said he'd be here, a busy night wouldn't keep him away. Noah didn't know if Francie was ready with her decision. But he did know one thing. He wouldn't get involved. He wouldn't step in. He had no right.

  "Does Francie know he's here?"

  "No. I haven't told her."

  "Any particular reason?"

  "She's put time and effort into tonight. I don't want anything to spoil that."

  "But you want her and McIntosh back together."

  Angela's gaze swept Noah up and down, then she tried to see into his heart. "I do want to see Francie happy."

  Noah looked over the multitude of skaters rolling around the rink. "I'd better go help her supervise. This crowd is huge."

  Angela gave him a probing look and nodded.

  Noah went to the rental room to find a pair of skates.

  When he went out onto the floor, he saw Jud Pierson and Drew. They waved. A few moments later a woman caught up with Jud and a young teenager poked Drew in the ribs. The whole family had come. As Noah skated, he saw more of the same. Families who belonged together having good wholesome fun. Had he missed it before because he'd never known it? Could a roller-skating rink hold a community together? Of course not. But it sure could foster an atmosphere of friendship, a place where young and old could share an interest and talk to each other.

  Someone nudged his arm. He smiled as Gina whipped past him. She gave Noah a thumbs-up sign and caught up with her friends.

  Then Noah saw the red. Every hormone in his body went on "red" alert. He started his perusal at Francie's feet. Red and white pom-poms on her skates. Red tights molding to curvy, wonderfully shaped legs. A silky leotard defining her breasts, her slim waist, flaring into a skirt that skimmed her thighs much too high for his peace of mind. A red-and-white satin ribbon emblazoned with CUPID wrapping her like a beautiful package from shoulder to waist. Long black hair, half of it loose the way he liked it, half of it intricately braided to keep it away from her face. A huge red bow tied to the braid.

  Lord, she was beautiful and sweet and exciting and he wanted to strip off her clothes to get to what was underneath. He skated up to her, rested his hand on her waist, and guided her to the edge of the floor. "Quite a production here."

  "What do you think?" She looked excited and fearful at the same time.

  He tweaked her nose. "I think you're one smart manager."

  Her smile broke free. "Does that mean you like it?"

  He took her by the shoulder and played with the ends of her hair. "It means you've done a fantastic job and I'm proud to have you as one of my managers."

  She looked disappointed for a second, as if she'd been hoping for something more personal, but the look quickly vanished. "You haven't seen everything yet. Check out the snack bar and the lounge."

  He stroked her cheek, gazed deeply into her eyes, thought about telling her McIntosh was in town, thought about going back to Richmond, but simply said, "I will."

  At the snack bar he found heart-shaped cookies, cupcakes decorated with candy hearts, and free Valentine's Day punch. He passed Vince and his family at one of the tables, gave little Marie a hug when she held out her arms, and felt empty when she let go. He headed for the employee lounge.

  Dozens of balloons bobbed in the room--silver, red, transparent multicolors. Veronica manned a booth in the corner. Noah shook his head. "How did she get all this ready?"

  "We all arrived at seven this morning to blow up balloons and do decorations. She and I made batches of cupcakes a couple of weeks ago and froze them. Angela made the icing and we iced them this afternoon."

  "The cookies?"

  "Francie's aunt."

  "And how much are the balloons?"

  "Two dollars each, delivered to the one you love by Cupid. All the proceeds go to
the new children's wing at the hospital."

  This monumental effort of Francie's, the effort of everyone who helped her, everyone who came out tonight, showed him how much they all cared about the rink. He knew that that was exactly what Francie had hoped he'd see.

  Noah meant to find Francie and take her to the office to talk. But he got waylaid by Frank, beckoned to the pro shop by Charlie, and tugged onto the rink by little Joey, who never failed to ask Noah to tie his skates.

  The deejay announced, "This is it, ladies. Ladies' choice. Pick a gentleman and skate to a slow one."

  Suddenly Francie was beside Noah, a heart-shaped silver balloon proclaiming Happy Valentine's Day in hand. She wrapped the red ribbon around his finger. When her fingers skimmed his palm, a streak of warmth followed their path.

  He smiled, gave her a quick kiss, and murmured, "I always wanted to skate with Cupid." Noah took Francie in a skater's dance position and whispered in her ear, "Ready?"

  At her nod, he guided her. Skating with Francie, driving with Francie, doing anything with Francie soothed him, aroused him, but most of all gave him a sense of peace he'd never experienced. As they skated, the balloon yanked against his finger.

  The low, varied-colored lights played over Francie's face. More than anything, he wanted to pull her close, but he had to keep his mind on what he was doing or they'd land on the floor. Skating wasn't second nature to him as it was to her.

  His gaze held and caressed her, though his hands couldn't. She searched his face, looking for answers to questions he didn't understand. Quietly, she asked, "How much longer are you staying?"

  He'd made up his mind last weekend. "Until after Angela and Paul's anniversary party. I'd like to be back in Richmond by the end of next week."

  She avoided his eyes. "I see."

  "Francie, I won't sell the rink to a developer. Haslow and Chesterfield will have to look at another property. I'll wait until we find someone who wants to own a roller-skating rink."

  She came to a stop and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Noah. This means so much to me, to everyone who comes to the rink."

  "I don't want it to influence your decision about figure skating--"

  The music stopped. The lights became brighter again.

  "I've already made my decision."