Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
W ork was unbearable. The pressure was intense. So Sarah found her happy place in ice skates, out on a frozen lake. She could write anywhere and felt very lucky to be able to take off when she did.
The ice was smooth beneath Sarah’s skates as she glided out onto the lake. Like most people, she had some of her favorite places on the weather app alerting her so she could remind herself what it’s like to live or visit there. When she saw a week of below freezing temps and no snow forecast, she bought tickets to Detroit and made her way out to the lake house where she spent most of her growing up years.
The house was closed down. She didn’t bother turning on the heat higher than it was, just lit the wood burning stove. That thing could heat half the first floor. She placed a few items from the grocery store in the fridge and then moved to the back porch to put on her skates.
The wood was worn, grooves made from years of skates lined the panels. The air smelled crisp, like it wanted to snow, but the sky was too vast and clear for even a hint of moisture. Sarah smiled and breathed deep. This was just what she needed.
There was nothing in the world like skating on a frozen lake that had never yet felt snow. Smooth glassy ice stretched out in every direction around her. The sandy bottom was clearly visible as her skates moved over the surface. Ripples, showing some sort of current made ridges in the sand and every now and then a fresh water clam type creature was scootching along on the bottom.
The surface of the ice was as smooth as glass. No arena could ever achieve the soft texture of natural frozen water before the first snowfall.
She took her time, placing one foot in front of the other as she circled in front of their house. She’d make her way around the entirety of the lake before the day was out. But right now, she just wanted to dance. She lifted her hands into the air, reaching for the sky and then out to her side as she weaved and circled and moved to the music in her head. Everything was perfectly quiet except for the sound of her skates on the ice.
She closed her eyes and pulled in to a tight spin.
Her heart pounded as she dug in her toe to stop the spin and then she wiggled into a circular backward skate. Once she was warmed up, she moved through some of her easy jumps. It had been too long for her to try anything complicated, but she was craving some bit of air. She raced across the ice as fast as she could before coming to a spinning stop.
And then she heard music. “Rain Came Down” by the Manic Mushrooms.
Travis.
She spun her head around, looking for the source. It was the song she and Travis always worked out to. He practiced hockey, and she danced. And no place on earth reminded her more of Travis than Porter Lake Michigan at the lake house.
She paused a moment more, but the music faded and she chided herself for her reaction anyway. He was lost to her. She knew that way back during her senior year of high school. But the hope that inflamed her expectations could not be denied. No matter how logically she explained her situation with Travis, a part of her would always hope.
She sighed. And then circled in front of her house again, picking up speed with each rotation. Travis ghosts followed her no matter how fast she spun.
A whole slew of memories crowded her thoughts. One in particular was particularly delicious so she lingered in it while slowly circling on the ice. What if during all these times of her secret crushes, he was also hoping they could get together. She shook her head at her foolishness but did nothing to stop the what if scenarios that came flooding in.
The lake stretched wide before them, its surface smooth as glass under the pale winter sky. Snow dusted the trees surrounding the lake house, the crisp air carrying the faint scent of pine and woodsmoke from the cabin.
Travis adjusted his gloves, bouncing on his skates to stay warm. "Alright, Cooper," he said, grinning. "Let’s see what you got."
Sarah shot him a look, narrowing her eyes. "Are you saying you doubt my skills?"
Travis smirked. "I’m saying I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes while you adjusted your laces."
She huffed, but there was a small smile tugging at her lips. "Excuse me for wanting to make sure my feet don’t fall off while you’re throwing me in the air."
He chuckled, skating backward lazily as she tested a few spins. Her form was flawless, as always. The way she moved—graceful, strong, confident—it was impossible not to watch her.
She skated toward him, stopping just inches away. "You ready?"
"Are you?" he shot back, tilting his head.
She gave him an unimpressed look. "I was literally born ready, Travis."
He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Let’s do this."
Sarah took a deep breath and positioned herself in front of him, their skates nearly touching. She was warm despite the cold, her breath coming in small clouds in the winter air. "Remember," she said, looking up at him, "don’t throw me. It’s a lift, not a pass in the NHL."
"Right, right," he said, but his grin remained.
She hesitated, her gloved hands hovering at his forearms. "You do remember how to do this, right?"
Travis scoffed. "Sarah, I literally help you practice every winter."
"Yes, but last time, you almost dropped me!"
"Technically, you over-rotated," he said, shrugging.
She shook her head. "I did not over-rotate! You were distracted."
He smirked. "Right, because I totally get distracted by ? —"
He stopped himself.
Sarah blinked. "By what?"
Travis quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Just get in position."
Sarah narrowed her eyes, but she didn't push. Instead, she turned, exhaling. "Okay. On three."
She started counting down, but Travis barely heard it.
His heart was pounding too hard.
Because this moment—holding her, catching her, feeling her trust him completely—it did something to him. It always did.
Not now, Jenkins. Focus.
He braced himself, bending his knees slightly.
"Three—two—one ? —"
She jumped, and he caught her perfectly, lifting her into the air.
For a second, everything was weightless.
She stretched upward, her arms reaching toward the sky, her face glowing with exhilaration as she balanced above him. She was beautiful.
"Hold it!" she called, and he did.
They held the position, his grip firm on her waist, his own skates adjusting beneath him to keep them balanced.
And then, as she transitioned, something shifted.
Her gloved hand slipped against his neck—an accident, a moment of adjustment—but his breath caught.
She was so close.
His fingers tightened slightly against her waist, memorizing the way she felt in his hands.
For the briefest second, Sarah’s eyes met his.
A flicker of something passed between them. Something neither of them wanted to name.
Then she dropped down, landing cleanly on the ice, her skates carving neat edges into the frozen surface.
Travis let go, taking a step back.
Sarah turned to him, breathless.
"You okay?" she asked, adjusting her gloves.
Travis cleared his throat, shaking off whatever that was. "Yeah. Yeah, I’m good."
She smiled, bouncing on her skates. "That was solid. No near-death experiences this time."
He nodded, rubbing his hands together. "What can I say? I’m a natural."
She rolled her eyes but laughed, her whole face lighting up.
And for a moment, Travis forgot how to breathe.
They skated for a while longer, until their legs burned and their fingers were numb.
At some point, Sarah flopped onto a snowbank near the edge of the lake, breathless.
Travis collapsed next to her.
They stared up at the sky—a soft winter gray, flakes drifting lazily down around them.
"You ever think about the future?" she asked suddenly, her voice softer.
Travis glanced at her. "All the time."
Sarah sighed, tucking her hands under her chin. "It’s weird, right? How everything is about to change?"
He swallowed. "Yeah."
She turned to look at him, her expression thoughtful. "Do you think… we’ll still be friends after high school?"
The question caught him off guard.
"Of course," he said immediately.
She gave a small, doubtful smile. "Even if I go off somewhere far? Even if you get drafted and become some big-shot NHL player?"
Travis hesitated.
Because honestly? He didn’t know.
Not because he didn’t want to stay close.
But because this—the way he felt about her, the way she could make his whole world tilt just by looking at him—was getting harder to ignore.
She nudged him with her knee. "C’mon, Jenkins. Give me some words of reassurance here."
He exhaled, shaking his head. "Sarah, I’d skate through a blizzard to see you."
Her breath caught slightly.
He grinned, nudging her back. "You’re stuck with me, Cooper. No matter where we end up."
Sarah studied him for a long second, like she was debating something.
Then she sighed dramatically, falling back into the snow. "Well, if I have to be stuck with you, I guess there are worse things."
Travis laughed, but something inside him ached.
Because he wanted more.
He just wasn’t sure if she did too.
And so, like every other time, he swallowed it down.
Because almost was safer than losing her altogether.
She relived the memory, this time imagining what went through Travis’ mind.
Wishful thinking.
Scratching to a stop, she turned to the ice in front of her neighbors. Time to shake this indulgence. She’d begin her skate around the lake. It was five miles of smooth ice. She’d stay near shore and make her way. Maybe by the time she returned, she’d have her head on straight again.
Her snort came out in a puff of white air. She was pathetic. But she couldn’t help it. She’d tried and tried. Travis was there to stay in one or another casting tendrils about in her thoughts.
The lake was gorgeous. The bottom was sometimes sandy with wave ripples, sometimes full of vegetation and sometimes an occasional old tire or Styrofoam cup littered the sand. No fish were visible. She’d never seen a fish through the ice. The many ice huts with flags on top were proof that others caught fish during the winter but she couldn’t imagine where they were or what they did in this frigid water.
When her thighs began to ache at around the halfway point, she began to reconsider her inflammatory articles. Was it doing any good really?
Hard to say. She’d heard that the last coach had put some of his players on leave for the next game. That said something even if only a slap on the wrist.
And she’d obviously not reached Travis at all. He never called, or even acknowledged her any more. So much for trying to get his attention.
She was gaining much more derision than respect in the journalism world, or at least in the sports world.
Maybe it was time to use her investigative reporting skills on something different.
The sun came out. The air was still icy but felt fresh on her skin. She put all heavy thoughts aside and focused on her chance to be out on the ice.
Before she could go ten more feet, her phone dinged with an incoming text. “Can I call you?” Travis.
She nearly choked on the sudden heart pounding in her throat. Her hands shook as she slowed to a stop, considering. She could ignore it until later. Her read receipts weren’t on. He wouldn’t know when she saw it. But that was just putting off the inevitable. They were going to speak to one another. They had a trip to Italy planned. It was Tatum’s idea and the idea scared and excited her at the same time. She had some serious concerns Travis hated her at this point, but she was not going to turn down the Dolomites.
Her phone dinged again. “I want to talk Italy.”
She breathed out nice and slowly, trying to calm her voice, her heart, her breath, her stomach…everything needed calming. What did that mean? Was he going to cancel? Had she finally pushed him too far?
She swallowed the lump in her throat with some amount of paint, placed a hand at her heart and then called him.
It rang five times. She almost clicked the phone off but then his familiar deep voice said, “Hey, Sarah.”
She closed her eyes. “Hey Trav.”
There was a longer than necessary pause. She cleared her throat but before she could make up something to say, he laughed. “It’s been awhile.”
“Yes, it has.” She started skating to calm her nerves nad give her focus.
“Wait. Do I hear ice out there? Where are you?”
She shook her head. “It’s uncanny how you can hear ice.”
“Well, is it?”
“Yes. I’m on Porter lake right across the lake from the house right now.”
“No way. You’re in Detroit? At thje lake!”
“I’m on it as we speak, it’s frozen. No snow.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
Her breath caught. “Wait, what?”
“I’m here too!” He laughed. “You don’t mind? I mean, if you do, I’ll stay out of your way, but I’m not missing the lake frozen solid before a snow.”
Her smile stretched across her face, her cheeks stiff from the cold. “I get it. I mean, I’d like that. I’ll meet you out on the ice.”
“You’ll be out there another hour?”
“Well, I gotta get the rest of the way around.”
“I’ll come bearing a thermos.”
“Mmm. Perfect.”
He hung up and she kept smiling. Things seemed so much like they used to be. Just two friends and the lake. She picked up her pace. It wouldn’t take a full hour to get back home, but she wanted to use the bathroom real quick. And make things look a bit more homey. Maybe they could order in.
She shook her head, already chastising herself. This was not the start of anything. This was two friends on the lake…and maybe not even the two friends part. How could Travis feel anything but dislike for her at this point?
She breathed out those thoughts and let her smile return. No matter what, this spontaneous trip to the lake house had just become that much better. And really, what she wanted was some reconciliation. Could they just be at peace with one another?
She pressed her mouth together. Not if she kept exposing hockey players.
Her mind circled around and around questioning all her life choices until she had to stop. One coincidental visit to the lake house before they’d even had a conversation could not be the impetus to change everything in her life.
The ruminating thoughts would have to stop. But couldn’t he help her? Didn’t he also want the players to be better? To do better? Drug use couldn’t be good for anyone…She told herself to stop. Again.
With a laugh, she spun and then twirled around to skate backward. If skating on a beautiful lake with clear glass like ice for as far as she could see would not distract her, then nothing could.
She studied the homes along this side of the lake. They were much smaller and more closely packed together. Occasionally she saw a curl of smoke coming out of a chimney, a light on here or there, but for the most part, everything seemed deserted.
Up ahead, a truck backed out onto the ice. A fully assembled ice hut stood up in the back. She shook her head. That was a cold hobby.
Every now and then a ping echoed across the ice as she went over. As a young girl, she’d been certain those were cracks, and she’d scurried off the ice, worried she would fall through. But now it felt like music. So many of her associated memories came from the feel of the cold on her skin, the smell of the air in winter, the sounds of ice, and the sensation of gliding across a smooth surface.
During winters when it snowed, they would shovel a rink and drag the hose out there. The extra layer of water froze right away. Two goals came out. Hockey was the focus of everyone’s afternoons.
Up ahead, the inlet to the lake from a local tributary seemed wet. She adjusted her direction and made her way more directly across the lake instead of continuing at its edge.
She knew Travis had beat her to the house because a thick column of smoke rose from the chimney and two goals sat out on the ice. Their speaker rested on the dock, a long extension cord heading back up to the house, music playing.
She smiled.
His skates were waiting at the end of the dock, leaning against each other.
Signs of Travis everywhere felt a bit too much like home. But no sign of the actual man.
She left her skates next to his on the dock and slipped into her Birks.
A trip to the ladies’ room and some mascara might give her a bit of courage.