Bea laughed at Jake’s expression as he fastened his skates on the wooden bleachers at the edge of the rink. ‘You can smile, you know. This is supposed to be fun.’
‘Tell that to the guys out there,’ Jake replied. ‘The ones trying to impress their friends and girlfriends. I don’t see many of them smiling.’
‘That’s hardly surprising: it is New York, after all. And you don’t have to impress anyone.’
‘Hey, I have a certain reputation to maintain,’ Jake grinned, holding out his hand to Bea as she helped him to stand unsteadily on his blades. ‘What would happen if one of my clients saw me falling over?’
‘I wasn’t aware psychiatrists were judged by their skating ability,’ Bea giggled, as Jake wobbled and grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Although if you’re this unsteady when you’re not even on the ice, perhaps we should find you a disguise before you try to skate?’
‘Way to boost my ego, Bea,’ Jake replied.
Bea couldn’t help but smile at Jake as they headed out onto the ice. His suggestion that they do something she’d always wanted had taken her by surprise last night, and she had been like a coiled spring all day waiting to finally add another New York holiday tradition to her list. The frozen December air pinched at her face as they began a slow circumnavigation of the ice rink and she was very aware of how tightly Jake was gripping her arm. He hadn’t exaggerated his lack of skating ability, but his vulnerability on the ice and constant laughter at his own ineptitude was undeniably endearing.
It felt good to be laughing with him, adrenaline pumping as they narrowly avoided being knocked over by more proficient skaters, who appeared to be using those trying it out for the first time as slow-moving chicanes for their speedy circuits.
‘These guys are nuts,’ Jake said, almost losing his balance again and only rescued by Bea’s fast reflexes. ‘You know if I’m going down I’m taking you with me.’
‘I’m well aware of that. Just keep putting one skate forward at a time and I’ll do my best to keep us both upright.’
A girl of no more than fourteen wheeled in front of them, performing a perfect pirouette before racing away. Jake stared at her, then at Bea, and they both descended into giggles again.
‘Reckon I’ll be doing that by the end of the night?’ Jake asked.
‘Baby steps, Steinmann: baby steps.’
She was having the best time and even though the reality of skating in Central Park wasn’t quite as glamorous or easy as it was always portrayed in the movies, Bea felt as if an ambition had been achieved. That she was skating with a handsome man who was relying upon her ability to stand on ice only added to the experience …
‘So is this everything you’d hoped it would be?’ Jake asked, confidence injecting a little more speed into his steps.
‘It’s lovely. Thank you for bringing us here.’
‘Hey, I’m happy to help. And also happy to fake terrible skating prowess in order to make you feel protective of me,’ he smirked.
‘Oh, is that what you’re doing?’ Bea said. ‘Now I get it.’
‘My master plan. What can I tell you?’
‘Genius. Well, it’s working. You can show me what you’ve really got now, if you like.’ Before Jake could protest, Bea unclamped his hand from her arm and skated a small distance away.
Alone on the ice, Jake’s shock turned to horror when a group of skaters moving against the flow headed straight towards him. Flailing out his arms he lunged forward to avoid them, catching Bea’s shoulder and bringing them both crashing down to the ice in one decidedly inelegant heap. Bea’s head cracked against the hard surface as Jake landed awkwardly across her body and for a moment both were stunned by stinging, frozen pain. Bea struggled to catch her breath – an attempt not helped by the heavy hulk of Jake’s shoulders across her chest; when she did so it quickly changed from short, sharp bursts to uncontrollable laughter.
Jake raised his head to look at her, concerned, then quickly followed suit, until they became a freezingly damp, aching heap on the fringes of the Wollman Rink, sprayed by frosty blades as other skaters wove around them.
‘I am so sorry, Bea, are you OK?’ he gasped, raising his gloved hand to stroke frost away from Bea’s hair.
And that’s when it happened.
Bea‘s laughter faded as she gazed up at Jake. The lights from the rink threw his face into silhouette, but she could see the chilled puffs of breath coming from his mouth, his eyes catching the light as he stared at her. The cheerful Christmas music, loud voices of the passers-by and sound of metal traversing the ice around them retreated to a muffled hum and Bea could hear the steady thud of her heart.
‘I – I think …’ Jake began to speak and Bea almost didn’t want to hear it. This moment was profound enough without words. Despite the pain in her head and back and the encroaching cold seeping up through her coat, jumper and jeans, she could have happily remained where she was, feeling the slow, gentle motion of Jake’s fingers as they brushed her cheek …
Suddenly, hands grabbed Jake’s shoulders and lifted him bodily upright, Bea squinting as the full beam of the rink spotlights filled her vision before another pair of hands helped her to her feet.
‘You folks all right?’ A large, middle-aged man, made wider by the many layers of clothing he was swathed in, was looking at Jake and Bea as a diminutive woman wearing a fur hat brushed the ice from their coats. ‘Y’all came down like a sack o’ flour back there.’
‘We’re good, thanks buddy,’ Jake replied, reaching out to shake the man’s hand.
‘That ice can be unforgiving. I know. Back home we see many sprained ankles and dislocated arms when the creek freezes over,’ the man replied. ‘I’m a doctor, by the way. Are you sure you two don’t need checking over?’
‘He’s very thorough,’ the woman nodded. ‘And trustworthy, too.’
Dazed from her fall and strange moment on the ice, Bea managed a smile. ‘We’re fine. Nothing broken. Thanks for helping us, though.’
‘My pleasure, li’l lady.’ The man shook Bea’s hand, which disappeared inside his huge gloved shake. ‘I’m Bobby Ray and this is Lily, my wife. We’re from Silver Springs, Maryland, here for the holidays. I must confess, I thought everyone from New York could skate.’
Jake gave a wry smile. ‘Not everyone. Myself in particular.’
‘Then it’s good to learn, sir. O-K. Well, you folks take good care of yourselves, y’hear?’
Bea smiled, her heart rate still erratic as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. ‘We will. Thanks for helping us.’
‘Oh you are more than welcome, dearie,’ Lily replied, patting Bea’s arm. ‘And if you’re ever in Silver Springs, you be sure and look us up.’
As the couple skated away, Bea turned to Jake. ‘Do you think we should … er …?’
‘Yes,’ Jake replied quickly, offering Bea his arm. ‘And find a hot drink maybe?’ He hesitated, as if there was more he wanted to say, but started to skate unsteadily towards the exit of the rink instead. As Bea held his arm there were a thousand things she felt she should be saying, but no words came. They reached the safety of the bleachers in stultified silence and wobbled towards a hot chocolate hut at the side of the rink. Jake paid and Bea couldn’t summon the words to stop him. As he handed her a lidded takeaway cup, she followed him wordlessly to the bleacher seats and they sat, both lost in their own thoughts for some time.
What was he going to say just then? The question haunted Bea. Her own reaction surprised her, too – not least because, had the moment prevailed, she could very easily have kissed him.
When they regained their ability to speak, neither was willing to refer to what had, hadn’t or – more to the point – could have happened.
‘At least we’ll have something to show for tonight’s experience,’ Jake said, staring resolutely at his takeaway cup.
‘What’s that?’
‘Bruises. Loss of dignity. Absolute confirmation that I will never represent
my country in the Winter Olympics.’
‘Probably for the best,’ Bea nodded, wondering why eye contact was suddenly so challenging for both of them, a fact at odds with the joviality of their words. ‘Good job Rosie and Ed didn’t plan a skating party wedding.’
‘I heard it was a close call,’ Jake replied. ‘My parents tell me there’s a real freeze on Long Island. We’d better hope for warmer temperatures between now and then.’ He finally managed to look at her. ‘Are you looking forward to the wedding?’
Bea was. From what she had seen of Rosie and Ed’s floral design work the event promised to be stunning in every sense. Rosie had told her about the many arrangements, garlands and displays she and Ed were working on and this, coupled with the unmistakable happiness the couple shared, made Bea excited to witness their special day. ‘It’s going to be fantastic. I’m so touched that Rosie invited me.’
‘Rosie loves you. I’m glad you’re going to be there.’
Bea smiled, pushing the memory of their closeness on the ice away. ‘The only two singles at a couple event again, eh?’
Jake shrugged. ‘I think we’ve gotten that down to an art now.’ He paused, watching the twirling, wobbling and speeding crowd moving in circles around the illuminated Wollman Rink. ‘And as our Pact still stands … we’ll be safe from – you know …’
Bea’s heart plummeted to her numb toes. ‘Yes, we will. Lucky us.’
That night as she lay in bed fighting the urge to cry, Bea’s memories of the evening were bitter-sweet. For a moment there – the smallest moment – she had almost believed that Jake had forgotten their agreement; that he wanted to be with her and forget they ever swore an oath. There was no point pretending any longer: if Jake Steinmann had asked her to be his tonight she wouldn’t have hesitated.
‘… our Pact still stands …’
That was his way of telling her no, wasn’t it? At the time she had been so consumed by confusion she’d missed it: but now, with the lights from the street pooling into her darkened bedroom, Bea realised Jake had told her exactly where he stood.
Unable to sleep, she put on her dressing gown and slippers and went into the living room. Opening her laptop, she began to type an email.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: I think I know now
Hi Grandma,
Please forgive this message arriving by email. I know we agreed matters of the heart should only be discussed on paper, but it’s late, it’s too close to Christmas to post a letter and I really need to tell you what just happened.
Tonight, I found out how I felt about Jake. I think you might have known all along and I’m sorry I didn’t see it. I was taken aback when it happened and if I’d had more guts I would have confessed to him what I was feeling. I didn’t, of course, but almost immediately he gave me his answer. I just wasn’t prepared for how painful that discovery would be. Now I understand how Russ must have felt when I told him I couldn’t love him like he wanted me to. It’s awful and I must apologise to him again tomorrow.
If this were the plot of a movie then tonight would have been the picture perfect almost-Christmas finale to the tale of the two leads. We went skating in Central Park, he fell and took me with him and then – there was a moment where I swear we might have kissed. He seemed to want to say something to me but the moment passed. Later, he said, ‘our Pact still stands’. And now, I’m in no doubt at all. Jake likes me as a friend, nothing else; which should be fine to discover, not least because until this evening I didn’t fully understand what he meant to me.
But it’s not fine. Part of me is devastated. And I have no idea why.
It turns out I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel on relationships. I want to be loved by somebody.
I’m not expecting an answer, by the way. I just wanted to tell you. Thank you for sharing your story with me and making me understand why I should never rule out the possibility of love in my life.
I’ll call you on Christmas Eve, like always.
Lots of love,
Bea xxxx
Sending the email, Bea placed the laptop on the coffee table and listened to the muffled sound of early morning traffic outside. She felt emptiness within but for the first time didn’t question why it was there. It was necessary for her to move on: through Christmas and into a brand new year that promised much in all other aspects of her life.
She could go to Rosie and Ed’s wedding now with every loose end tied and every question settled. She could enjoy Jake’s company for what it was: a deep, shared friendship. And then, she could move forward into whatever life had in store.
Couldn’t she?
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Steinmann family home, Hampton Bays, Long Island
Jake yawned and prayed that his fourth cup of coffee of the morning would help him focus on the day ahead. Being Ed’s best man was an honour he took very seriously, but the large amounts of warm spiced bourbon the men of the Steinmann family had enjoyed last night gathered around the back garden fire pit in the Long Island snow were now pummelling his brain to a pulp. It had been a good night: Joe Steinmann as ready to joke with Ed as he was with Jake and Daniel. Ed, in turn, had responded well to his father’s efforts. As they relaxed together, stories of winters gone by fizzed and sparked around the fire.
‘You should be getting ready, Jacob.’ Martha Steinmann, already dressed and looking as if she’d stepped from the society pages of the New York Times, nudged Jake to one side as she helped herself to a cup of coffee from the percolator in the kitchen. ‘The guests will begin arriving soon.’
‘Yes, Mom.’ Jake kissed the top of his mother’s head, smiling as he did so. ‘I was just attempting to unscramble my brain.’
Martha gazed up at her son with unbridled pride. ‘There’s never been anything wrong with your brain, darling. Nothing that avoiding your father’s lethal spiced bourbon toddies couldn’t solve.’
‘They were strong last night.’
‘Mm-hmm. He was celebrating.’ She reached up to straighten Jake’s tie in a way that only women long trained in the art can. ‘You made him see sense when you visited last. Thank you, baby boy.’
Jake shrugged. ‘He needed to hear it. Besides, he loves Ed. They’re just too alike.’
‘That I know.’ Martha looked at the slim gold watch on her small wrist. ‘Heavens, is that the time? Go and drag your brother down to the garden room, Jacob!’ Clapping her hands, Martha shooed her son out of the kitchen.
Ed was standing in one of the Long Island house’s eight bedrooms, frowning at his reflection in a free standing dressing mirror when Jake arrived.
‘Bro, it’s time. Do you have everything you need?’
A wistful look passed across his brother’s face. ‘I think I always have. Can you believe that today she’ll be mine for life?’
Grinning, Jake rested his shoulder against the doorframe. ‘She loves you. She’s always been yours.’
Ed groaned and shook his head. ‘No, you don’t understand. I never thought this day would come. I wanted her for so long when she didn’t know it and I figured she would always be one of those “almost” people in my life. A what-if; an if-only … Last night it hit me: if I’d never told her I might still be waiting. I was this close to losing my chance to be with her. And today …’
‘Today you make it happen. I get it. But you won’t get to marry Rosie if you don’t haul your butt downstairs before Mom kills you.’ Jake was smiling when he said it, but secretly Ed’s words were making him uncomfortable and he was keen to move away from the subject.
Ed turned to embrace Jake. ‘You’re the best, bro.’
‘I know I am. Now grab your jacket and let’s move.’
The garden room of the Long Island house was the largest of its three sitting rooms, with full-length windowed doors that opened out onto the garden. Today it had been transformed into a vision of white, leading guests in
to the heated marquee beyond. Rows of silver chairs with deep green cushions had been arranged in the marquee, with a snow white, thick pile carpet runner forming an aisle towards a rose-and-ivy-strewn altar where Ed and Rosie would promise their lives to one another in less than two hours’ time. Delicately etched glass baubles were suspended from the draped marquee ceiling, spinning and catching the light of a thousand tiny white lights that lit the whole space. Looped along the sides of the marquee and into the garden room itself, sumptuous garlands of ivy, holly, pine, eucalyptus, rosemary, white and cream roses, gardenia flowers and white freesias hung, filling the room with their beautiful bouquet. A forest of Christmas trees stood sentry-like along the length of the marquee on either side, covered in fairy lights and frosted with powdered sugar to resemble snow. At intervals between the silver chairs, large chrome and glass lanterns containing tall cream altar candles were waiting to be lit, each one decorated with ivy trails and a single white rose. It was as if a spell had been cast over the garden room and marquee, creating a magical, sparkling, frost-covered forest lit by hundreds of tiny white fireflies.
‘Wow.’
Jake turned to see his eldest brother Daniel strolling into the garden room. His pale green cravat and dark grey morning suit emphasised his closely cropped dark hair and denim blue eyes. ‘You and Rosie outdid yourselves this time. It’s incredible.’
Ed flushed from the compliment. ‘That, my friend, is the result of countless hours of planning and pre-wedding battles in floral form.’ Catching his brother’s wry smile, he relented. ‘Rosie designed it all. Gorgeous, huh?’
‘Nothing but the best from Kowalski’s,’ Daniel smiled, slapping his brother’s back. ‘This is a good day, bro.’
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