Chapter Eleven
After Eric took her to her house for a quick shower and change of clothing, they went to refuel at the Tap and Grill. The Tap was known for selling breakfast at all hours, so they filled up on omelets, wheat toast, coffee and orange juice, both of them unabashedly ravenous after their night of lovemaking. They talked almost nonstop. Eric kept her in stitches, telling her about several funny odd jobs he’d held in college and medical school, including a job in a toothpaste factory and another dusting dinosaur bones at the Detroit Science Center. At one point, he noticed her distracted expression.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
Colleen shook her head and took a sip of coffee. “All those jobs you worked…” She faded off hesitantly. She studied the remains of her toast, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “Wasn’t there sufficient money from the lawsuit? I mean…it was quite a lot, wasn’t it? I…I would have thought—”
He silenced her increasingly nervous ramblings by placing his hand on top of hers. She met his stare.
“You know how expensive college and medical school are, let alone food, board and other living expenses. Natalie was only eleven when the crash happened. I needed to be careful with finances. I had her to support. I didn’t want to screw up and find out she didn’t have all the resources she needed to go to college. So I supplemented with odd jobs.”
“I’m sorry you had to grow up so young, Eric.”
“I thought you said last night that you realized you can’t apologize for your dad’s actions.”
“I did,” she said quietly. “I’m not apologizing for Dad. I’m just sorry things were so rough for you.”
He squeezed her hand, and she looked up. “I turned out okay.”
“Yeah. You did,” she whispered feelingly.
Eric wouldn’t tell her where he planned to take her after they ate, so Colleen was a little taken aback when he pulled his car into Sutter Park’s outdoor ice rink.
“Ice-skating?” she asked incredulously. “But I can’t skate.”
“Come on,” he encouraged. “It’ll be fun. Look, they have all the Christmas decorations up.”
Colleen was extremely doubtful about the venture. The Kavanaughs were water lovers, one and all, but she didn’t care for the frozen variety. Even she had to admit the atmosphere at the outdoor rink was festive, though. The big Christmas tree they always put up in the park twinkled in the distance. Red and green lights had been strung around the low brick wall enclosing the rink. Kids shouted and zoomed around the ice. Christmas carols played over the loudspeaker. Even the weather cooperated with the holiday atmosphere. Fat snowflakes began to fall as they headed for the ice.
Colleen tottered in her rented skates, Eric’s hold on her arm the only thing keeping her from doing a face-plant.
“Bend your knees more,” Eric encouraged. Colleen grimaced. He was holding her hands and skating backward with effortless ease. It was clear that his years of playing hockey had turned him into an excellent skater. He made skating backward look as easy as breathing. His movements were graceful, but not elegant like a figure skater’s. He was brawny strength set into effortless motion. Colleen had a hard time focusing on her own awkward movements; she was so busy admiring him.
She wavered and almost fell before Eric steadied her. “The blade is too skinny,” she protested, frowning at the six-year-olds who flew past her like bullets. “I have no balance whatsoever.”
Eric suspected she hadn’t tied her skates tight enough and pulled her over to a bench, Colleen’s ankles wiggling like two pieces of cooked spaghetti the whole time. He knelt before her and efficiently relaced and retied her skates. “Better?” he asked a moment later, wrapping both her calves in his gloved hands.
“We’ll see,” she said, warmed by his gaze and massaging palms.
She noticed him grinning a few minutes later.
“Now you’re getting it,” he said in a complimentary tone, referring to her skating.
Colleen thought he might be right. She was starting to learn the required motion to propel herself forward while maintaining a tricky balance. Eric casually turned directions and dropped one of her hands, skating next to her instead of in front.
“Show-off,” she muttered, grinning.
She ended up having a ball. It was refreshing, good exercise, and Eric was excellent company. They skated and drank hot chocolate and skated again. For the first hour or so, the temperature hovered around the freezing point and there was little wind, making her unaware of the cold. Besides, Eric kept her warm with his flashing grins and effortless athletic grace.
At one point, however, Eric yanked gently on her hand and brought her to a halt, pulling her to the side, away from the zooming skaters. He brushed several snowflakes out of her unbound hair and off her cheeks. He frowned when a tremor went through her.
“You’re shaking again,” he murmured. “It’s getting colder. We should go.”
“Maybe you’re right,” she said a little regretfully. “I really am shivering from the cold this time.”
His eyebrows arched at that, as if he’d recalled what else made her tremble. He leaned down and covered her mouth was his. His kiss made her wonder if he’d transformed the snowflakes on her lips from ice straight to steam.
After they left the skating rink, they went to a movie at the local theatre. It was beyond nice to rest her cheek on Eric’s chest while his arm encircled her, eating popcorn and soaking up his heat. The movie was forgettable.