“Yes. No matter what.”
I wrap my arm around her and feel a bit of tension release. “Now let’s go bring our Elsa energy to the ice.”
The skating rink stretches before us, an expanse of white nestled in front of the lodge. Children dart across the ice, their laughter carrying in the cold air. Families glide hand in hand, leaving silvery trails in their wake. Festive music blares out of speakers.
Once we’re all on the ice, the group naturally spreads out.
Tom and Jules race ahead with the twins, shouting out challenges to each other. Margaret and Gary move at a leisurely pace, hand in hand. Mason clings to the railing, his skates slipping as he tries to find his footing. Ivy glides gracefully near James, who now moves across the ice with ease.
I can’t help but watch him. He took lessons. My heart constricts as I take him in. His long legs graceful on the ice, the dark green beanie that I’ve always loved—a beacon I keep seeking.
“Mama.” Anna’s soft voice pulls me back to her and her little mittened hand clutching mine.
“You ready?”
Her little legs wobble above the tiny double-bladed skates strapped over her boots. Her cheeks are pink with excitement, eyes wide as saucers as she takes in the glistening rink.
I take a cautious step onto the ice, crouch down so I’m eye level with her, and pull her gently forward. She lets out a squeal—half fear, half delight.
“You’re doing it,” I whisper, more to myself than to her.
We make a slow, careful loop. Her hand grips mine. Her smile never wavers.
“Mama. Fun.”
“Yes, baby. I love ice skating. But it’s okay if you don’t. I’ll never force you.”
On our next pass, Mason notices me watching, and he lets out a short laugh. “Guess it’s been a while since I’ve skated.” He tries to sound casual, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. His movements are stiff and careful, trying to control something he can’t.
“Want me to grab you a skating cart?” I ask, teasing.
“No. Definitely not. I’ll be fine. It can’t be that different from skiing.”
I nod, but the moment doesn’t pass easily. Mason can’t stand being off-kilter. I hold my breath, almost waiting for his next move.
“Aunt Syd, can you show us a jump?” Leo and Beck skate over. “Please!”
“Well…” I look around to see if anyone is available to hold Anna’s hand. James skates toward us, steady and sure. Ivy sits on the bench, face now in her phone.
“Un J!” she squeals, wobbling from the quick movement before I stabilize her.
I glance at Mason and see his jaw tighten. He heard her. His gaze lands on James’s approaching figure, his posture shifting instantly. His back straightens, arms crossed in front of his chest, like he’s leaning casually against the side rather than gripping for help.
“Syd,” he calls out. “I could use your help. You’re the expert here.” He extends his hand toward me, his smile tight.
“Boys, why don’t you show off? I’ll take my turn later.” I can’t resist turning to James. It might be the dumbest thing with Mason fifteen feet away, but what’s he going to do with the entire family here? I drop my voice low. “Bambi, you’ve improved.”
“Someone once told me all it takes is a few skating lessons.” He winks, gliding to a smooth stop in front of us. “Wanna take a lap with me, Bug?” Anna slips her hand into his secure grasp.
“Syd,” Mason snaps. “You coming?”
I skate toward him and see his outstretched hand, waiting expectantly.
“No, Mason. I’m not,” My voice stays even, calm. My eyes lock on his. “You can’t expect me to flip a switch and pretend last night didn’t happen. Get a cart if you need something to hold on to.”
His face hardens, but I don’t stay for his reaction. All he can do is watch as I push off and leave him behind.
I want to skate toward James and Anna, but I know I can’t. Not yet. Instead, I gather speed and skate for myself. For the girl who found freedom on the ice. For the woman fighting to claim it again.
