The loudest, highest pitched noise ping-pongs from every rusted wall of our car as Emett screeches and jumps in his car seat, nearly undoing his buckles. “OHMYGOD!”
“Emett!”
“I’m sorry, Mommy! But do you see all these emotions? I have way too many right now and I can’t keep them inside! OHMYGOD!” he yells out again, and I shake my head, smiling, while mentally cursing Stella. I swear, that grandma of his is going to be the death of me if she keeps teaching him her stash of inappropriate vocabulary for a four-year-old.
I should’ve expected this blow out of excitement, though. Ever since I told him about an opportunity to have a training session with Exton, he’s been nagging me to go see him. And never in my wildest dreams did I think that could ever be possible but then a week ago, a best friend I haven’t seen in years walked intoBlade’s—the bar where I work—along with Exton Quinn behind her, pushing the wheelchair she’s now in.
If they say you’re the maker of your own fate, then how come both Electra and I couldn’t escape the shitty ones we were dealt from the days we were born?
No, instead, it dangled that pretty, charmed life in front of our noses for a little while before laughing in our faces as it sent us back to reality.
Electra did leave for Boston that day five years ago, and she made it big in figure skating. She made it so big, she won every trophy there was. She had one of the best partners-turned-boyfriend. She was just steps away from taking the Olympics when one wrong move sent her crashing to the unforgiving ice, breaking far more than just bones in the process.
I haven’t spoken to my best friend since that day she left. I know she was busy with her training and setting up in the new city and I—well, I wasn’t one for company for a while there and then our lives took us in different directions, so there’s no one to blame for our falling apart, no matter how much Electra is trying to blame herself now.
But I kept an eye on her career. Knew what was going on, especially since Stella took off to Boston as soon as we heard about the accident on the ice and brought Electra back home to Iris Lake, so she could heal the broken soul she was left with.
When I first saw Electra in Blade’s it wasn’t the wheelchair that shocked me. No, it was the look in her eyes.
So gone. So lost. So terrified but also living on another planet.
Physically, she looked like the best friend I once knew. Emotionally…mentally, she was just as broken as I was. Albeit, for different reasons. The only times you could see a resemblance of life in them were when her stupidly hot, hockey player babysitter—Exton—was getting on her nerves.
It was almost amusing to watch. Until Stella barged in and pressured the said hockey player into seeing my son for a practice. I have no idea what she has on him to make him jump at a mere word, but honestly, I’m not surprised she does. That woman will go to war for one of her own.
I was really reluctant at first. I hate hand-outs. I hate to be a burden and won’t ever make the mistake of making my son one for anyone in this life.
However, nothing about Exton said he’d be doing charity work. There wasn’t a single pitying look in his hard eyes as he offered to train Emett for the time being and I took his offer and ran with it.
Hence why we’re pulling into their long driveway covered in white, glistening snow on the outskirts of Iris Lake. This house is yet another new thing about Electra. Back in the “before,” she’d chosen to live in the middle of our small town. Somewhere close to people and noise.
Today, she’s as remote as you can get, in her small wooden cabin at the edge of the lake itself. The lake that’s covered in a thick layer of ice.
“Is this it?” Emett unbuckles himself before I even have the chance to set the car on park, plastering his little face and hands to the window.
“Emett, honey, we talked about staying in your car seat until I come around to get you.”
“Mommy, these hands and legs are out of control, I’m telling you!”
“Uh-huh, well, please tell your hands and legs that if they don’t get a grip, the car might get a mind of its own and start driving back.”
Shaking my head but with a smile on my face, I take a step outside, tightening the pink knit scarf I made earlier this winter around my neck as cold, icy wind meets my tired flesh almostimmediately. The force of it almost knocking me off my feet for a second.
I shiver…where did this wind come from? It wasn’t here just a bit ago when we left our house.
Quickly, I open the back door, letting my son and his overly eager extremities out and bend down to make sure his parka is zipped up all the way. Hopefully, the wind settles down a bit when he gets on the lake.
“Mommy,” Emett groans. “Can we go already?”
“One second, let me make sure you’re nice and warm.”
“I’m toasty,” he deadpans. “It’s not even that cold.”
I gape at him. “Are you kidding me? This wind is full of icicles, I’m sure of it.”
Emett frowns, watching me. “Mommy, what wind?”
I open my mouth to tell him to stop playing around, but suddenly, I realize he’s right.
