Chapter 16
Kjell
When she ran into my arms at the hospital, she was deathly pale. Now, her cheeks glow with a bright rosy hue, the dark streaks washed away in the hospital restroom, and even though the area around her eyes remains swollen, she looks stunning.
"I haven't done this in ages," she says with a hint of excitement as she laces up her second ice skate. Then she stands from the wooden bench. She wobbles briefly but quickly regains her balance.
Nevertheless, I gallantly offer her my arm and accompany her to the shore of the frozen lake, nestled in the frosty landscape of Hellasgården. It's Saturday, and the lake bustles with activity. Children's laughter, the scraping sound of ice skate blades, and the sharp clattering of the puck from the teenagers in the separated ice hockey field fill the frigid air.
Sky hesitates before linking her arm with mine.
My skates touch the frozen surface first. "Let me know when you want me to let go," I say.
Her fingers tighten around my arm. "Give me a moment."
I'm more than willing to do so, but I immediately remind myself that this has nothing to do with Sky or her smile. This issolely about uncovering her true self. I place my second foot on the ice and turn to face her directly. Our fingers intertwine. Her gaze shifts between the ice and me. Every time she lowers her eyes, I can't wait for her to raise them again. To see that blue in her eyes that rivals the brightest winter sky.
She bravely steps onto the ice, and I pull her a little farther, keeping her in motion. "It's like it was yesterday," I comment because she's doing excellent. "You have great body control."
She nods, but her expression remains focused. "It comes from dancing." Tentatively, she first releases one hand, then the other, taking her first independent steps.
She dances? I'd love to ask her more about it, but I bite my tongue, remembering my promise to her. No questions. I'll stick to that. "I had a feeling you were a dancer," I reply instead.
She stretches her arms to both sides to find her balance. "Not ballet, though, but ballroom dancing. You know, waltz, rumba, tango, and such."
Fascinating. The image of her in a short sparkly dress, gracefully moving across the dance floor with fiery steps, appeals to me.
"Can you dance?" she asks eagerly.
I examine her and think I can discern a hint of guilt in her expression.
Why?
Because she told me something about herself?
Quickly, I reach for her hand, gliding along the lakeshore with her. Maybe that will ease her tension. She should be carefree and have a good time. "Only the waltz, and even that is quite clumsy," I reply.
"But you're fantastic at ice-skating," she observes. "Where does that come from?"
From the fact that my so-called father was a huge ice hockey fan. And ashis son, I was naturally one too. "As a teenager,I was in an ice hockey club. We even competed in smaller tournaments," I answer with a hint of bitterness. "But that was a long time ago."
She gazes at me wistfully. "That's not a pleasant memory for you, is it?"
How does she know that?
Swallowing hard, I shake my head. "That's how it is with memories. Not all of them are beautiful," I admit openly.
Sky grunts in agreement and turns her gaze forward again. Hand in hand, we walk along the lakeshore, passing gnarled trees casting long shadows on the ice and breathing in the crisp winter air.
"Let's just focus on the beautiful ones," I suggest, pulling her a bit closer so we can avoid an approaching mother and child. After they've passed us, Sky doesn't make any effort to put more distance between us, and I don't either. Not because it simply feels nice to hold her in my arms but also solely to preserve the momentum. Because that's what it's all about here even though I keep risking forgetting that.
"The beautiful memories, then," she murmurs absentmindedly by my side.
"Like friendships, school parties, or first kisses," I say, as everything related to family doesn't fall into that category for me.
I look over at her and see a longing smile on her lips. "Or something like secretly stealing fabric scraps to make clothes for Barbie dolls."
"You didn't do that!" I can't help but laugh.
