There was a beat of silence, then the chaos of yelling and skates scraping and Gracie realizing that she was whimpering and crying out at the same time.
“Red! Benny! Oh, my God!” She shoved past Marshall as if nothing and no one could stop her from getting to the ice, but he snagged her hand.
“Be careful, Gracie!”
She ignored the warning and moved before her mind caught up. She shoved through the barrier, boots slipping on the edge of the ice.
“Red! Benny!”
Benny’s sobs echoed through the cold air. “He’s not moving!”
Cameron shot past her, calling out orders for someone to call 911 as he practically flew toward Red.
Cindy and MJ were running from the other side of the rink, Jack right behind them. Marshall was beside Gracie in an instant, steadying her as she stumbled onto the ice, heart hammering.
When she got to Benny, Red lay crumpled, his red hat fallen askew, his face as white as his beard and his eyes closed.
“I’m a medic!” Cameron yelled as he slid next to Red. “Everyone back up! Let me get his pulse!”
Apulse? This couldn’t be happening.
She wrapped her arms around Benny, falling to the ice, oblivious of the cold as she hugged her vibrating, weeping son.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay.”
But she didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything except the sound of sirens in the distance and a glance at Marshall standing away from the circle, looking as stricken as Benny.
Christmas lights blurred, voices shouted, her breath came in ragged gasps. Somewhere, someone was saying they had a pulse. Somewhere else, she heard her mother sob.
But all Gracie could do was hold Benny and stare at her grandfather as more first responders arrived.
“Please,” she whispered again. “Please, Red. We can’t lose you.”
And as the medics took over, Marshall’s shadow loomed beside her, silent and stunned.
The night that had begun in magic and mistletoe shattered into a thousand jagged pieces of fear.
Was he dead? Was Grandpa gone? Another scream froze in Benny’s throat, the words stuck there.
What have I done?
Everything around him blurred from tears and ice and a big white ball of terribleness in his heart.
“Grandpa!” Benny’s voice cracked as he smashed his face against Mom’s jacket, his whole body shaking with another sob.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard Grandpa groan and try to bark at Cameron, who was talking in fast, calm words—pulse, pressure, transport—with the Santa jacket spread wide open as he did…medical things.
“If the ticker ain’t broke, I’ll freeze to death.” Red rasped out the complaint, but the words lifted Benny’s heart.
If he was complaining, he was alive.
“Come on, honey,” Mom insisted, guiding him away from all the people and skaters and a bunch of firefighter guys with a stretcher.
They were taking Grandpa on a stretcher!
Lights kept flashing, and now some snow started falling, and all Benny could think was,I did this. I made him do this.
His mom’s arms wrapped around him from behind, but Benny shoved forward, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Grandpa! I didn’t mean to—I just wanted?—”
