Chapter 17 Clara #2
"There's too much to go into right now, but you need to know that the King family is going to ensure the subsidized programs continue. Hockey, figure skating, skiing; every sport in this town is going to be part of the foundation."
"What? Really?" I hadn't planned on sitting, but suddenly I felt like I needed to.
Everleigh rested her hand on her baby's head. When she smiled she was a lot less intimidating. "My father didn't know about your programs or the potential for a different building site."
"So what does that mean?" The world felt like it was tilting.
"It means the existing Chance Rapids arena is going to be dedicated to subsidized programs."
"You're keeping the rink and the programs?"
Relief washed over me and my muscles, which had been coiled tightly for days, finally let go. "Thank you, Everleigh."
"You're welcome."
I stood. "I need to get into costume."
"There's one more thing." Everleigh's riding boots clicked on the flooring as she rocked from side to side. "When Beck dug deeper and confronted Mouser, he quit the King Corporation."
I paused with my hand on the doorknob and turned. "He quit?"
Her eyes sparkled as she grinned. "And vowed to whistle-blow the entire operation. That's when I hired him back and fired Mouser."
My throat closed up.
"I'm not saying you have to forgive him," she said. "That's your call. But you should have the facts." She started walking away, then turned back as the opening notes of the halftime show blared through the speakers.
"So you're not the Wicked Witch?" I couldn't help myself.
Everleigh laughed. "No, sweetheart. Not this time."
My eyes were blurred with tears as I watched my kids perform their numbers. Reality hit when the ukulele version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" started to play. My cue.
I pushed off and glided to center ice. The crowd went quiet, then started buzzing.
They'd expected a ten-year-old Dorothy. Instead, they got a thirty-three-year-old in braids and a square-dancing skirt.
Mrs. K was in the front row. She blew me a kiss and held her hands clasped at her chest. Donnie rested his arm on her shoulders.
My brain shut off and my body took over. The crowd clapped as I dropped into a deep layback spin, the skirt whirling wide with the rotations.
The song built toward the finale. Maddie was supposed to do a single lutz. I picked up speed. I went into it a little faster than usual. I wasn’t scared anymore. The crowd blurred and memories flashed of my mom at the boards and Beck handing me white roses.
I squeezed every muscle in my body as my toe-pick launched me into the air. My braids flew out as one, two, and then finally three rotations were completed. I stuck the landing.
The crowd roared.
Tears streaming down my cheeks when I threw my arms up into the finishing pose. The flying monkeys swarmed me and the crowd stood in a standing ovation.
I waited while the kids filed off the ice. I was breathing hard and my "freckles" were probably smeared across my face. Then Beck stepped onto the ice. He skated toward me carrying white roses wrapped in brown paper.
The whole town watched as he skidded to a stop in front of me.
"I knew you could land it," he said. "I'm so proud of you." He held out the roses. "I'm sorry. I should've checked the final contract."
"Stop." I took the roses from him. My bottom lip quivered as I looked him in the eye. Why had I doubted him? "I love you, Beck."
The crowd let out a collective "aww" as I rose onto my picks to kiss the Beardog Growler player wearing number 23. Beck wrapped his arms around me. "Everleigh told me everything," I whispered into his ear.
A whistle pierced the air. "Get a room, you two!"
I giggled, tucking my face into Beck's neck. He grabbed my hand and we skated off the ice together. Mrs. K gave me a nod of approval from the stands. The Zamboni circled the ice, driven by a dapper-looking Donnie in a brown velour suit.
At the door to the makeshift dressing room, Beck held my hands. "I'm not leaving, Clara. Ever again. I'm staying in Chance Rapids."
"You're staying?"
"If you want me to stay.”
I sniffed the roses. "We're going to need a new spatula."
The crowd roared as the announcer called the Beardog Growlers to the ice. Beck kissed me. "Gotta go.”
"Go win the game for the town."
He walked backward in his skates. "I already did."
I watched the game from the stands with Megan and Charlotte. Everleigh sat a few rows up, her eyes following every move on the ice while Gunnar held the sleeping baby.
GJ had her "GOALIE'S GRANDMA IS WATCHING" sign front and center.
The Windswan Old-Timers relied solely on Diefenbunker to carry the team. He was good, but the Growlers had more depth. In the third period, I screamed with the rest of the town as my boyfriend deked out the defensemen, had a breakaway, and scored the game-winning goal.
The team piled on each other at center ice. I screamed until my throat hurt. Dash barked his head off beside me.
Beck found me in the crowd afterward, still in his sweaty jersey, hair matted to his forehead.
"You were incredible."
He wrapped me in his arms. "This has been the best day of my life." His kiss was deep and the hustle of the holiday crowd disappeared around us.
Later that day, the parade rolled down Main Street. The high school band butchered "Jingle Bells." The Bobcats players pelted kids with candy canes from a flatbed. The alpaca duo, Dave and Simon, were met with cheer as they trudged by wearing their felt antlers, looking as clueless as last year.
Santa’s sleigh floated by just as the snow started to fall. Big flakes caught in the glow of the Christmas lights and settled on our shoulders.
Across the street, Mrs. K and Donnie finally held hands. I elbowed Beck to get his attention. “Look at those two lovebirds.”
"I'm glad we didn't wait that long." He squeezed my hand.
"Me too, Beck. I love you."
"I love you too, Clara the Cruel."
"Hey!" I pushed him.
"Sorry," he grinned. "That one's sticking."
I thought about Dorothy and her ruby slippers. She went through all that drama, just to figure out she wanted what she'd had all along. There's no place like home, especially when home has the right person in it.
"Beck?" I swiped a snowflake from his cheek. "Let's go home."