Chapter 25 Darby
DARBY
It’s eerie but kinda cool to drive across the snow in the dark.
Glittering stars and moonlight reflect off the crystal blanket covering the ground, lighting up the night.
Though the trees wrap us in velvety shadows.
We take the direct route back across the creek and then wind to the right along a small lake’s shoreline until we get to Ren’s cabin.
Though cabin isn’t really the right word.
It reminds me of an alpine lodge with stacked decks strung with lights and a steep A-frame roof overhead.
We follow the trail up through the trees, away from the lake, circling above the house to flatter ground.
Several outbuildings surround the house, including a covered roof over Big Bertha.
Henrik parks in the stall beside the giant snowplow where several other snowmobiles sit.
My teeth are chattering but not entirely from the cold.
Henrik takes my hand but instead of heading for the house, we follow another trail up into the trees.
It’s a bit of a climb, enough my thighs are burning.
Skadi winds back and forth across the trail, her nose working overtime.
Then she yips excitedly and runs ahead into a circular clearing.
A sort of hollowed bowl deepens below us in the ground, surrounded by trees and giant boulders with a rocky ridge rising behind it like a dark wall. We pause at the lip of the depression so I can look around, trying to figure out what I’m seeing.
My gaze goes first to the blazing bonfire at the bottom of the trail.
Shimmering flat white glistens in an arc around it, almost like the surface of the pond, but it’s perfectly smooth like glass.
I’m assuming it’s the Ice they were talking about but it’s not very large.
Not the size of an ice rink. Maybe a small pond?
Several logs are set in an arc on one side of the fire for seating. On the opposite side, the tumble of stones frames what looks to be a stage set between the icy edge and the cliff. Part way up in the boulders, there’s a flat ledge for a huge drum set. A musical stage? In the middle of nowhere?
The more I look around, the more I realize this is very much a manmade stage set up to look organic and natural.
Lights are set high in giant trees with branches trimmed just so.
Boulders disguise stage exits on either side.
Ren and Leland are talking to the left of the main stage behind some boulders.
I can’t hear them talking, and they’re intent over what looks to be some electronic panels.
“Ren built all of this,” Henrik says, pointing to where they’re talking. “That’s the control room. It’s paneled off in clear plexiglass to protect the equipment. On the other side of the stage, there’s an enclosed changing room hidden in the boulders.”
“So it is a stage for music?”
Henrik nods. “But it’s also a sort of practice rink. I think it’ll make more sense coming from Ren.”
Ren and Leland come out of the control room once they see us, both giving Skadi pets while they wait for us to walk down the steeper edge toward the fire. Henrik tucks my arm around his as we get to the ice. “Small steps, lean forward, and walk like a penguin.”
It’s not as slippery as it looks, but we’re also not going very fast. I’m not good with estimating sizes or distances, but it’s at least twenty or thirty steps across from the bonfire to the stage. Up close, I realize it’s poured concrete painted to look like the ice beyond.
“Welcome to the Ice,” Ren says, reaching out for my other hand. “Let me give you a quick tour.”
Henrik leans down to press a kiss to my temple. “I’ve gotta go change. Enjoy the show, babe.”
He and Leland head to the right side of the stage and disappear behind the concealing boulders.
Leaving me alone with Mr. Smiley Hot and Dangerous.
Ren tightens his grip on my fingers imperceptibly, as if he fears I’ll bolt.
I’m tempted, not going to lie. At least to pull my fingers from his.
Even with the new mittens, I imagine what the warmth of his palm would feel like against mine.
“As you can see, this isn’t just a practice rink, though it started out that way.
The lake isn’t always frozen enough for us to skate, and it can be rough as hell too.
The first spring I moved out here, I found this place on one of my mental health walks.
We’d had a lot of rain, and all the water pooled here in the shallow depression.
That’s what gave me the idea to turn it into a small rink. But that takes time, you know?
“I was doodling and brainstorming what I wanted it to look like all spring and summer, not rushing into anything. I came up here almost every day and sat where the bonfire is now. With the dark forest all around and the sky above, it’s like a beautiful natural cathedral.
One of my assignments from my therapist involved me releasing pent-up anger by yelling, and I realized the acoustics are crazy.
Haunting, adding to the overall vibe of the place. ”
Pausing, he tips his face up to the moon shining above, his eyes closed.
“It was my quiet, special place. It almost became a religious experience to come here and sit with nature and listen to the way sound bounces off the cliffs. Especially at night. The darkness has always called to me, just as much as the ice.”
Lowering his chin, he turns to look at me, his eyes glistening like black pools in the darkness.
“I was pretty broken when I came to Henrik. Messed up, beyond healing or repair, I feared. I’d run full tilt my whole life, trying to forget the past. My shitty childhood.
My own stupid choices. I had the world at my feet, king of the mountain, and I fucked it up.
On purpose, even if I didn’t realize it then.
“I always said I was an adrenaline junkie, but it was more than that. I always pushed the edge, walking that line from dangerous to stupidly dangerous. Throw myself off the cliff kind of bullshit and laugh about it when I didn’t die.
Start a fight in a bar with four or more bigger guys and hope they beat the shit out of me before Henrik waded in to save my worthless ass.
Drive too fast. Skate like walls didn’t exist. Only here did I start to realize why. ”
Tears pool in my eyes and my throat aches. I don’t know what to say, but I squeeze his fingers and step closer to him.
“My father was an abusive drunk. Mom left him when I was ten or so, and he fought to keep me. Not that he wanted me.” He laughs, and it breaks my heart.
I slip my other arm around his waist and lean into his side.
A small offering of warmth and companionship as he bears his soul.
“Family name, you know. Gustafson. I’m even named after my grandfather and his father before him.
S?ren. All assholes according to my father, who proudly inherited his temperament from them.
“I hated hearing my full name every single time the announcers called me out to the ice. The more famous I became, the more I hated it. I know that doesn’t make sense.
I started to sabotage myself. I drank too much—even though alcoholism runs in my family.
I dabbled in drugs. I slept around. Hell, even multiple girls at a time.
There were always puck bunnies—groupies—hanging around the team, which is why Henrik got so mad when he thought I’d brought you up here as a joke.
I did it before. When he left the team…”
His body shudders against me like a chill slipped down his neck despite the black turtleneck.
“I lost my anchor. I lost the one who always had my back. Who’d wade into any fight and drag my ass out.
It was up to me to keep myself on the straight and narrow, and I sucked at it.
Willfully disobeying team rules, coaches, doctors.
I had too many concussions from getting my ass handed to me on the ice, and they finally put me on LTIR, long term injury reserve.
The team doctor told me I was going to die on the ice if I didn’t figure my shit out, and I laughed in his face.
They sent me to shrinks, hospitals, therapists, but nothing really got through to me until someone called Henrik. ”
“He came to get you, didn’t he.”
“The Mighty Zon never failed to save my ass.” Somehow Ren hugs me without really pressing any more of our bodies together, curling his lanky body around me. “Now he’s saving me again by giving me a chance with you.”
REN
My heartbeat pounds in my skull. For a moment, I’m afraid I said too much, too soon. Shot too far from the net. I’m braced for her to jerk away, slap me, and call for Henrik to come kick my ass.
The big guy’s never handed me my own ass, but he will without hesitation if I hurt Darby. I want him to. I don’t want to be the reason another woman’s sobbing her heart out, and I’m afraid I’ll kill myself for real this time if I’m the reason she leaves him.
He deserves happiness far more than I do.
She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she gives me a shy little laugh, tipping her head up so I can see her eyes. “You really are some kind of rock singer, aren’t you? That was the first thing I thought when I saw you without your hat.”
Relieved, I allow my lips to quirk. “Some kind, yeah. It was another one of those flukey accidental things. One thing led to another. My therapist recommended I find an artistic, creative outlet that fed my heart and soothed my soul. I’d always found that kind of peace on the ice with my team—more specifically, with Henrik—so it took some trial and error.
Leland found his creative release in writing books.
Henrik found his in crafting things with his hands.
I found mine in music. I’m just lucky my friends also took various music lessons as kids, and we ended up putting a band together.
But I guarantee our music is like nothing you’ve ever heard or seen before. ”