He attempts a dramatic spin, arms out, then nearly loses his balance. His recovery is less than graceful, and they both dissolve into laughter that echoes off the surrounding buildings.
I can't help but smile. Their matching eyes that crinkle when they laugh, the way Sanders mimics Woody's stance without realizing it.
I pull off my first skate and wiggle my numb big toe. After I rub the blood flow back in, I've never been so glad to slide my boots back onto my tired feet.
My mind drifts back to earlier, to Woody's hands firm on my waist, steadying me when my ankles betrayed me. The warmth of him behind me, his breath tickling my ear as he murmured, "Got you."
I'd forgotten how safe his hands could make me feel.
Heat crawls up my neck despite the December chill. As I watch them skate together, something inside me softens dangerously. He's good at this. Good with Sanders.
This is exactly what I was afraid of, how easy it would be to fall back into old patterns, old feelings playing family together in New York at Christmas.
My phone rings in my pocket, vibrating against my hip. I fumble for it, oddly grateful for the interruption from my own thoughts.
"Walking On Sunshine" blares loudly, echoing off the acoustics. I swipe to answer, my breath creating small clouds inthe frigid air.
"Hey, you caught me mid-frostbite." I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder, rubbing my hands together.
"Did y'all make it to New York?"
"Yeah, we barely dropped our bags and walked to Rockefeller. I just tapped out from ice skating."
"You're ice skating? In New York?" Maggie's voice crackles with surprise as she lets out a genuine laugh. "Didn't waste a second, huh?"
I giggle softly, eyes tracking Sanders's red jacket as he zigzags across the rink. Woody hovers protectively nearby. "It was Woody's idea. I can already tell he's going to be like an overgrown kid here. He and Sanders feed off each other."
Maggie hums thoughtfully. "You sound... happy."
I roll my eyes, though a smile tugs at my mouth. "Don't start."
"I'm just saying, usually when you mention Woody's name, it comes with a side of venom. Not this... whatever this lightness is." Her voice lilts with amusement. "Maybe this trip's good for your soul."
I stand up and lean against the railing, watching Sanders attempt another dramatic spin. A lump forms in my throat, and I try to swallow it down.
"I've been surprised, yeah." The admission comes out quieter than intended. "He's been different. Present. Fun, even."
"Present? As in actually showing up, or present as in wrapped up under your tree?"
"You're a nerd. I mean, he's just really here and smiling and not checking his phone every five minutes." The words hang between us. "It's weird. Good weird."
Pulling my scarf tighter, I sigh. "Listen to this. Whoever made our reservations set us up in one suite. Twobedrooms, but shared everything else. All awkward logistics, but no other rooms, so we're stuck together."
Maggie's laugh rings through the phone. "Sounds steamy."
"Not even close." Heat creeps up my neck despite my protest.
"We'll see," Maggie teases.
"Maggie. He's my ex-husband. For many years. We normally hate each other. We might learn to be friends again, but that's about as far as it will go."
"If you say so, Sis."
I watch Woody catch Sanders by the shoulders when he nearly topples. They're laughing, heads thrown back, identical dimples flashing. My cheeks hurt from smiling.
The truth hits me between the ribs. Iamlighter. Seven years of anger and disappointment, and here I am, standing in the middle of New York City, feeling something dangerously close to nostalgia. I hate admitting it, even to myself.
A soft beep interrupts the call. I glance at the screen, relieved for an escape from my sister's knowing tone.
