Big city, but small neighborhood, I guess. I’d always heard that about cities, but I didn’t know how true it was.

“Hey! Kirsten, right?” he said.

I nodded. “Hi. How’s it going?”

“This puppy’s got some serious energy, doesn’t he?” He leaned down to scratch Bear behind the ears.

“The problem is that he doesn’t realize he’s not a puppy anymore.” I smiled. “I think I’m going to have to start taking him for really long walks. Or run a marathon or something.”

“You run marathons?” Sean asked, looking impressed—or startled, I wasn’t sure.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Doesn’t everyone?” I laughed nervously. “I mean, when I have to, I will. Like if I were being chased, I’m sure I could move quickly.” I was babbling like a fool. I was saying nothing that made sense. Why did I insist on making the least out of this situation?

“You plan on being chased?” Sean asked.

Well, it would be nice, I thought as I looked into his eyes. “Not exactly,” I said.

“Good. Hey, you should come down to the lake tomorrow. You know, like we talked about?”

“Oh. Yeah?” I asked. Did I ever say anything else when he was around? I got so tongue-tied, it was ridiculous. “I mean, yes, I should. Shouldn’t I? It would be fun.”

There was an awkward pause.

Come on, I urged myself. If you don’t make something happen right now, you might never be lucky enough to see this guy again. Who knows if it’ll snow again while you’re here? You can’t rely on Mother Nature to get you on a date.

“So when do you work at the rink?” I asked.

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning,” he said. “Nine until noon. Is tomorrow good for you?”

It is now, I thought. It’s a whole lot better, in fact. “We’ll try to make it,” I said, not wanting to sound too anxious about it. Just keep things casual—until I could tackle him.

And then Bear saw a squirrel and dragged me away before I could say anything else, which was probably a good thing.

Chapter 6

The first thing I saw when I woke up the next morning was frost on the window. I snuggled under the down comforter, where I was cozy and warm. I didn’t see a reason to jump out of bed.

And then I remembered: Sean had said he’d be at the rink that morning. We had a semi-date set up. I had to get down there!

I threw back the comforter, swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stood up, and found my slippers and my fleece sweatshirt as quickly as I could. The house was so cold in the morning that you had to be prepared. Besides, you never knew when you were going to end up in the driveway in your pajamas. Ahem.

I went downstairs, opened the door and grabbed the morning newspaper from the top step. I shook it open to the weather section, where it said today would be a high of ten degrees. Not the best weather to take a toddler skating. But Brett was tough. Besides, I’d put so many layers on him that he’d be unable to move, but he’d be warm enough.

When I told Gretchen that we were going down to the lake, she looked up from reading the morning newspaper. “The UV Index today is zero point three. That’s the risk of getting a sunburn or skin damage. Why do they even bother reporting that? Anything under five is completely useless. Anyway, I don’t know about the skating. I thought you could spend the morning cleaning.”

“Uh…I could?” Quick. Think of something, I told myself.

“Well, unless you have another idea,” Gretchen said.

If I told her I was going down there to see Sean, she might even be supportive. But I didn’t want her knowing that I liked him, for some reason. She’d only tease me and tell me I didn’t have the right outfit on or something.

“Actually, the thing is, Gretch, I’ve signed Brett up for skating lessons. Well, hockey lessons. And the class starts this morning.” I looked up at the clock. “At ten.” That should give me enough time to get Brett ready to go, and to make myself look decent in however many layers it would take for me not to get frostbite. Also, I didn’t want to seem too eager by showing up at 9:01.

We didn’t actually have to skate long. We just had to see Sean and I had to talk to him and make him fall in love with me, or at least crush on me enough to go away with me for a weekend. That could happen in the warm rec building as well as on the ice. In fact I’d prefer going inside. It could take him a few minutes to get from barely knowing me to loving me.

“Really? Hockey lessons?” Gretchen didn’t sound as if she believed me. “For Brett? But he’s only three. He doesn’t even skate all that well yet. How’s he going to handle a hockey stick?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. See, it’s a class just for little kids like him,” I explained. “The rec center offers them. I signed him up when we were there the other day.”

“I didn’t see anything about classes there.”

“Yes, but you didn’t come inside,” I reminded her. This was turning out to be the longest, most complicated lie in history. Why couldn’t she just be glad we were getting out of her hair for a while? “It was posted on the bulletin board outside the office.”

She just stared at me.

“Big neon green sheet. You really didn’t see it?”

Still she was giving me that look of disbelief. Why would I make up children’s hockey lessons?

“Well, the class starts today. I’d better get Brett ready to go.” If I acted like it was true, then it would be true.

“Aunt Kirsten, we can’t skate here. We can’t!” Brett kept saying over and over as we stepped into the rink.

“Sure we can,” I said. I was holding Brett’s hands and guiding him along.

In the other rink on the lake, a bunch of guys were playing hockey. Choosing the empty rink seemed like a wise move to me. Considering I’d stumbled down the ramp on our way to the rink, nearly stepping on Brett with my skate, things were fine now. Things were perfect in fact. Sean was playing hockey, and when he was done, we’d talk, and—

“Aunt Kirsten we can’t,” Brett said again. “Mommy said—”

“Look, I realize I’m not the best skater, but this will be fine,” I insisted.

Suddenly a guy skated up behind us. Well, he wasn’t skating exactly—he was sliding on sneakers. “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a gruff tone.

“I’m sorry?” I said.

“This is a broomball rink,” he said. “Didn’t you see the sign?”

And as soon as I glanced at the side of the rink, I noticed a sign on the wooden boards: BROOMBALL ONLY. NO SKATING. Actually there were about six signs like that, I saw as I scanned the rink. I’d been so busy checking out Sean that I hadn’t noticed.

“I’m really sorry—I’m just visiting,” I said as I helped Brett off the ice. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do. Sneakers only, okay? Get out,” he practically barked.

“Aunt Kirsten, Mommy always says we can’t skate here,” Brett repeated. “I told you.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.” I gave him a little hug. Next time I would listen to Brett more carefully. “Sorry, again,” I said as we gently glided out of the rink.

“Read next time,” the guy said in an angry voice.

“Sue us next time,” I muttered under my breath.

Fortunately, the game broke up a minute later and Sean skated over to us. “Ignore that guy, he’s insane.”