She managed a curt nod, slightly annoyed that a grown man had to be told by his sister to apologize.
“That’s not a decent enough apology, but it’s a start.” Leslie took hold of Charlie’s shoulders, spun him around, and gave him a small push. “The clock says it’s two forty. I’ll meet you in your office in five minutes. In the meantime, go shave. You look like a caveman. If you’re going to grow a beard, at least make sure it’s neat. You know what Jack will do if he sees you likethat.”
Charlie shoved his hands in his pockets and slowly started walking away from the rink, muttering something under his breath. Leslie and Frankie watched his retreating form.
Leslie fanned the air. “He needs a shower too. Good grief. He smells worse than the locker room after a hockey game.” Placing her hands on Frankie’s shoulders, Leslie studied her. “Are you okay? I’m truly sorry for the way he treated you. I hope you’ll believe me when I say no member of the rink’s staff should be treated with such disrespect.”
“I’m fine. I think I’m still a little shocked.” Her muscles slowly started to relax. “I can’t believe the two of you are related. He’s so . . . uh . . .”
“The words you’re searching for are irritable and ill-tempered.” Leslie’s eyelids fluttered. “Not that I want to make any excuses for him, but you’ve caught him at a bad time. It didn’t hit me until this morning that the anniversary of the accident was coming up this week. Even after five years, his emotions are like a tangled knot. He really shouldn’t be at the rink, but unfortunately, I don’t have the power to boot him out.”
Frankie’s eyes widened. Accident? Did that have anything to do with why he had been so angry at her? She sorted through her memories. His words echoed in her mind.“I thought we had gone through this already. Didn’t you tell me just a few days ago that you wouldn’t practice out here alone?”Had he gotten injured himself while he was practicing alone?
“I’ll make sure he gives you a proper apology when he’s back to himself.” Leslie rubbed the back of her neck. “Anyway, I heard most of your conversation with Charlie, but what did he say to you before I got here?”
Frankie returned to the present. As diplomatically as she could, she recounted today’s exchange, as well as their first encounter, and the coffee incident.
“Again, I’m sorry for the way he’s treated you. There’re a couple other people he’s crossed the line with too.” Leslie’s lips thinned. She glanced at the clock on the scoreboard above the rink. “I hate to do this, but I’m going to run out on you in a minute.”
Frankie blinked slowly. “I’ll take care of Richelle if he’s not back.” Leslie shot her a grateful smile. “Can you tell me what she looks like?”
“Richelle is about eight years old. She always wears a sparkly pink headband and carries a purple unicorn-shaped tissue-box holder. If you have trouble finding her, let Aaron know. He’s best friends with Richelle’s brother.”
“Got it.”
“I really appreciate this, and I won’t forget it.”
* * *
“Relax, Richelle. You’re so stiff. Is there any way you can make your edges a little deeper for me?”
“What do you mean, Miss Frankie?” The petite skater cocked her head to the side and stared quizzically at her. She reminded Frankie of a baby owl with her large doe-like eyes. “Mr. C told me I was doing a good job.”
Leslie made it look so easy when she was explaining things to the level ones and twos. How could she explain what she wanted to Richelle?
“Youaredoing an amazing job, but let’s see if we can make this footwork sequence even better,” Frankie emphasized. She motioned for the skater to hold on to the wall. “Let’s do the inside three and rocker pattern one more time. But every time you do a new step or turn, I want you to bend your knees as far as they can go.” Frankie tapped the student’s knees. “Your goal is to try and push the tongue of your boot out of your skate.”
“Like this?” Richelle bent her knees like a ballet dancer performing a deep plié.
“Yes! That’s great. Just like that.”
Richelle stuck her tongue out. “It feels weird.”
Frankie grinned. “You’ll get used to it.”
The skater shrugged. “Okay.”
From her position at the center of the ice, Frankie intently watched the eight-year-old repeat the pattern. By reputation, the novice-level Moves in the Field test was the most difficult of the American Skating Union’s tests to pass. Frankie had taken the test herself three times before passing. Each time, the three-person judging panel had marked her down for the smallest things. She’d promised herself if she ever became a coach, she’d make sure that didn’t happen to her students.
“Bend even more,” she shouted.
Richelle took the correction and picked up speed. Frankie looked on as she glided past her, opting to do the full serpentine pattern instead of the half pattern. Her blades made sharp ripping noises, indicating deep edges.
“Keep your chin up and bring your free leg’s boot to your heel,” a male voice suddenly interjected.
Frankie jumped. Her hand flew to her chest. Off to her left was Charlie. She’d been so focused on watching Richelle that she’d missed him entering the ice.
“I didn’t mean to startle you. Sorry,” he said in an even tone, eyes glued on his student. “I didn’t think I’d be this late. Her lesson is almost over. What have you two worked on?”
