Understanding finally dawns.
"Oh."
Five minutes later, I find myself pretending to rearrange napkins while secretly watching.
Not because I'm interested, obviously.
The little girl refuses to leave the rubber mat near the entrance.
Every time someone suggests the ice, she shakes her head.
More tears. More panic.
Then Colby crouches beside her.
There is no audience. No cameras, no performance.
Just patience.
They talk quietly.
The girl nods.
Shakes her head.
Nods again.
Eventually he steps onto the ice.
Then offers his hand.
The girl hesitates.
The entire rink seems to hold its breath.
Finally, she takes it.
One step.
Then another.
Then another.
Twenty minutes later she's skating slowly around the beginner section wearing the proudest smile I've ever seen.
Her parents look like they might cry.
The coordinator looks relieved.
The crowd loves it.
Colby acts like nothing extraordinary happened.
Which somehow makes it worse.
Beside me, Mrs. Bellamy appears out of nowhere…again. I'm beginning to suspect she can teleport.
"He's good with children."
