Janet Evanovich - Hero at Large

Chris relaxed a little. Patti would do fine. She was a consistent skater. “Double axel, double toe,” Chris called out. “Perfect,” she smiled as the young girl glided past. “Nice warm-up.” She threw a coat over Patti’s shoulders and escorted her back to the lobby.

Patti would skate third. Junior women skated to a three-and-a-half-minute program which meant that Patti would go on in about fifteen minutes. The two women sat side by side in companionable silence. There were some skaters who needed to be amused while they waited, but Patti wasn’t one of them. Chris turned to her own thoughts, mentally organizing a Christmas list to keep her mind busy. A cardigan sweater for Aunt Edna. A little tin of homemade cookies and a packet of stickers for each of her students. Lucy was getting a bicycle and clothes for her doll. Reluctantly she thought of Ken. What did you give to a millionaire for Christmas? If there was something he wanted…he’d have already bought it. The only things left to buy him would be things he didn’t want.

Bitsy motioned from the doorway that it was time for Patti.

“Here we go.” Chris smiled. “Knock ’em dead.”

Patti gave her a thumbs-up sign, skated to center ice and assumed her opening position. As the first dramatic strains of the music filled the arena, Patti stroked out. Three-and-a-half minutes later, Chris choked back tears of happiness and relief over a perfectly executed program. There was no doubt about it-Patti had gotten her ticket to Nationals. Chris watched her skater gliding across the ice accepting sprays of flowers. A little red-haired girl was lifted up onto the barrier. She held out a bouquet and received an enthusiastic hug from Patti. It was Lucy! Chris grabbed Bitsy’s arm. “That’s Lucy!”

Bitsy squinted across the rink. “Looks like the whole family’s here.”

Chris felt the color drain from her face as she stood rooted to the spot in stunned panic, fighting to control her swirling emotions, seeing no one but Kenneth Knight.

Bitsy poked Chris in the ribs. “Wave,” she ordered.

Chris pasted her best professional smile onto her numb face and moved her hand weakly in the air. “I can’t get rid of him,” she said. “As hard as I try, I just can’t get rid of him. He keeps hanging around doing nice things.”

“How awful. It must be terrible to have a handsome, sexy millionaire always doing nice things for you.”

“Yeah…and I’m going to put a stop to it.”

Bitsy rolled her eyes and thunked her forehead with her fist. “Unh!” she grunted.

Chris and Patti stood together while they waited to read the judges’ cards. As the numbers came up, Chris did some fast calculations. Her mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe it! Second.” She hugged Patti. “You’re going to come in second overall.”

Chris felt a tug at her skirt. “Mommy!” The little girl hurled herself into Chris’ arms. “I missed you. Patti skated be-ooo-tiful. Are you surprised to see us here?”

“Yes. It’s a wonderful surprise. I missed you, too.”

“Ken brought us. We flew up this morning.”

“Mmmm. That was nice of Ken.” Reluctantly, Chris turned her attention to Ken. He wore a black pea coat with a bright red scarf and dressy black wool slacks. He stared down at her, his expression unreadable.

“Ken said he’d take us to a late supper,” Edna rattled. “Don’t that sound fancy? Lucy napped all afternoon so she could stay up.”

Chris squeezed Lucy’s and Edna’s hands. “It sounds great. I’ve been so lonely without you guys.” She hugged Edna and Lucy. “Gosh, it’s good to see you.” She purposely kept her eyes on her daughter, avoiding another visual confrontation with Ken. She wanted to kiss him and hug him, too. She wanted to tell him how she’d missed him, how she’d wanted his support before Patti skated. But she wouldn’t say any of those things. She would do what she knew in her heart was right-she would be cool and discouraging. She adjusted the collar on Lucy’s coat. I missed a man who doesn’t exist, she told herself. Ken Callahan Knight is a whole person. You can’t separate the Callahan from the Knight. Ken Callahan Knight is a person I hardly know. She felt a firm hand under her arm, pulling her into a more upright position.

“Very nice job of avoiding me,” Ken observed, “but I think we might be in the way here. You’d probably like to talk to your skater’s parents for a few minutes. We’ll meet you in the lobby.”

Chris winced under the businesslike tone and biting words. She gave her daughter one last kiss and reluctantly left her to find Mr. and Mrs. Barr.

Ken took Edna’s key and opened her door. “Here you are, Aunt Edna. Chris and Lucy are down the hall in three forty-five in case you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine. Some people complain they can’t sleep in a strange bed. Not me. I just conk off anywhere. I could sleep on a rock.”

Chris and Lucy kissed Edna good night, and Ken solemnly escorted them to their room.

Ken opened the door and patted Lucy on the head. “How about getting ready for bed, moppet. I’d like to talk to your mother.”

Chris felt herself slump. She was tired. She was wet. She was elated. She was depressed. She was no match for Ken Callahan Knight. She looked at him blankly and wondered what on earth he wanted to talk about. At the restaurant, he’d been pleasant but distant. There had been no talk of marriage or love. There had been no loving glances or intimate asides. She wasn’t sure if it had been a relief or a disappointment. She wasn’t sure about anything.

Ken took her purse from her shoulder and fished through it. He extracted her key ring and looked at it a moment. Chris knew he was recalling the kitchen key exchange, and she wondered if he’d been as moved by it as she had. Probably not, she thought. It had been a lark…remember? And how did he feel now-had it become something precious? She couldn’t tell by the guarded expression on his face. He returned her bag to her shoulder and worked a key onto the ring.

“I’ve moved out.” His voice was flat. No raspy sexiness. No gentle teasing or enfolding affection. It was a matter-of-fact statement that knocked the air out of Chris’ lungs and left only burning, searing pain. He took her hand and closed her fingers around the key ring. Warm, Chris thought sadly. His hands were always so nice and warm…and she felt so cold. He looked as if he might say something else, but then he turned abruptly and walked to the elevator-never looking back. The elevator doors closed behind him, and Chris watched the floors blink in red as he descended to the lobby.

At five-ten Monday morning Chris pulled the silver Mercedes into the dark parking lot of the ice rink. She took the key from the ignition and slouched deep into the seat. I hate to admit it, she sighed, but I’m going to miss this car. It’s definitely a superior machine-it’s pretty, and it’s comfy, and everything works. In four days she could cash in her savings bond and buy a car of her own. Then she would have to return the Mercedes to Ken. How would she ever do that? she groaned. If she had to face him she was sure she’d do something stupid and maudlin…like burst into tears. Maybe she could get Bitsy to follow her out to Darby Hills and just leave the darn thing at his front gate.

A large pickup truck rolled into the space next to her. Its inhabitants cut the engine and waved. They looked around the lot and settled back with containers of coffee. That was strange. Only skaters were usually here at this hour of the morning. She scanned the parking area and realized that there were no familiar cars. An odd sinking feeling settled in the pit of her stomach-the sort of feeling she might get showing up for a party on time but a day late, or if she’d accidentally gone to the supermarket in her bedroom slippers. Maybe they were having problems with the ice, Chris reasoned. Every now and then the ancient compressor or decrepit Zamboni would break, and the rink manager would have to cancel skating until repairs could be made.