Chapter Eight
Evelyn arrived home just as the sun was setting.
Tossing her winter boots off by the door, she told herself that the decision to leave work on time was made out of sheer necessity.
Though she would never admit it aloud, David was right.
She needed sleep. Her head was killing her.
If she kept going at her current pace, she might not make it to their live show.
She inhaled, and then opened it. Barry Peters was a bigwig, a maker-and-breaker of careers, and keeping the man happy had been pivotal to her own success.
Evelyn,
There’s been a slight change of plans, and I’ll be stopping by tomorrow morning with some very special guests. I trust that you and the crew of A Christmas Carol will be up for a small visit. We’re all excited to see the puppets.
Barry
Panic enveloped her. They were nowhere near ready for a visit from Barry Peters and special guests.
Indeed, they were currently bordering on a full-fledged disaster, with kids missing cues and cameramen shooting pelvises.
But the worst part of all . . . tomorrow was the day they were going to start working with the puppets.
Evelyn had been stressed out about it for weeks. The freaking puppets. The specially designed marionettes that were meant to move alongside the dancers carrying them, representing the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future. For months, she had agonized over every detail of her vision.
It was to be a combination of Chinese shadow puppetry and modern dance.
The stage would be a life-sized castelet, and it would culminate in the great and final horror of her production, the appearance of the Ghost of Christmas Future.
The last puppet was a monstrosity that stood at sixteen feet tall, all tulle and silk, and decorated with thirteen thousand hand-sewn crystals and beads.
It had taken their design team eighteen months to create those puppets, and it was her grand vision.
It was also the vision she had pitched to the executives at the studio, alongside hiring the extremely expensive rock star turned film star Jared Sparks. But if she could get it right—and indeed, she needed to get it right—she would make television history.
For weeks, the dancers had been practicing with sticks.
Tomorrow was the first time that the puppets would be arriving on set.
She took a deep breath and forced herself not to think about the fatigue raging through her body, or the way her head was killing her, or how badly—how freaking badly—she just wanted to cry.
Instead, she found her phone and typed back an email to Barry Peters.
Barry,
We look forward to your arrival tomorrow and meeting your special guests!
Best,
Evelyn Schwartz
David heard his niece long before he saw her waving from the sidelines of Hanukkah on Ice at Wollman ice skating rink.
“Uncle David!” Jesse shouted. “We’ve been waiting for you forever!”
David pressed his way through the crowd.
His niece was standing beside his sister just outside a booth where they could rent skates, a knitted hat in the shape of a monkey firmly affixed to the top of her head.
Just beyond them, set up for the second night of Hanukkah, was a large menorah and a buffet table filled with powdered jelly donuts and latkes with apple sauce and sour cream.
“Sorry,” David said, rushing over. “There was a delay on the subway.”
“We just got here five minutes ago ourselves.” Danielle smiled before placing one hand on Jesse’s back. “Though for this one, I’m pretty sure it was an eternity. She’s been talking about going ice-skating with you all day.”
David bent down on one knee. “Is that right?”
Jesse jumped up and down, excitedly. “Come on, come on . . . You gotta put your skates on!”
“I guess I’d better get a move on, then,” David said, jumping up to get in the line to rent his skates.
Moments later, he was all laced up and ready to go.
Waddling back over to Danielle and Jesse, he suddenly regretted agreeing to go ice-skating.
If it was this difficult to maneuver on a blue carpet while standing on the edge of two blades, he could only imagine how treacherous actual ice would be.
Plus, he liked having two fully functioning wrists and hands to treat patients.
“Uncle David!” Jesse shouted again. “You’re walking funny!”
“Well,” David said, quickly grabbing the edge of the rink. “Turns out . . . this is a lot harder than I remember it being.”
“Mom said you know how to skate.”
Indeed, but the last time he had skated, he must have been seventeen.
“I guess I forgot how,” he admitted.
Jesse seemed unbothered by the admission. “Don’t worry,” Jesse said, taking his hand and leading him to the ice. “I got you.”
It was hard to resist such a sweet invitation.
Alas, Jesse’s attention span for teaching lasted all of twenty seconds. Almost as soon as they had stepped on the ice together, she saw a friend and quickly took off.
“Melony!” Jesse shouted, and zipped off in the direction of a group of girls.
“Hey, now,” David called out after her. “You’re supposed to teach me—”
It was no use. The act of talking while skating required way too much coordination.
One blade skidded out, and David found himself clutching the rail for dear life to keep from falling flat out on his tuchus.
He glanced back over to Danielle, who was laughing her ass off, before returning his gaze to his young niece.
Standing in the center of the rink, surrounded by a gaggle of girls, all of them wearing knitted animal hats, she seemed to be in competition over who could talk loudest.
“You need some help?” a voice sounded from behind him.
David turned around to see a woman with straight brown hair smiling widely in his direction. The smile caught him off guard. Or maybe it was the shape of her hips in the tight black pants she was wearing. It had been a long time since he had been with a woman. Not since Evelyn, actually.
David blushed, embarrassed. “Actually, I think I need one of those.”
He nodded toward a six-year-old, currently pushing around a neon-green plastic skate trainer. The joke did the trick. The woman laughed, tossing her head back, before offering her hand.
“I’m Claire,” she said.
David went to shake it. “Dav—”
Taking his death-grip off the railing had been a poor idea. He would have slipped again, but Claire grabbed him by the waist. It was an unexpected touch, but he was grateful for it all the same. Slowly, she brought him back to safety.
“David,” he said, when he finally was able to find his balance. “Nice to meet you. And sorry I’m not able to offer my hand right now.”
She laughed. “Totally understandable.”
“I’m a little . . .” He studied the response in her features. “I thought I would be better at this, honestly.”
“Famous last words.” She beamed.
He kept waiting for her to skate away, but instead, and much to his pleasure, she kept talking to him. It was nice, honestly, if only for the fact that talking to Claire meant he didn’t have to leave the safety of the rail.
“Are you here for Hanukkah on Ice?” she asked.
“I am,” he said.
“Which one’s yours?”
“Oh,” he said, realizing what she meant by the question.
“No, no . . . I don’t have kids.” Her eyes narrowed.
David moved to correct himself. “I mean . . . I’m here with my niece.
” He pointed toward the gaggle of girls.
“The little one, in the center of the zoo over there, with the monkey hat. I don’t have kids, myself. ”
The ball of grief that lived inside his chest grew larger. He swallowed, pushing it down and away. Now was not the time to be talking about that loss.
“Oh,” Claire said, putting it together. “You’re Jesse’s uncle!”
“You know her?”
“Of course.” She pointed to the girl wearing a hat in the shape of a lion.
“The King of the Jungle over there belongs to me. Sara. Seven years old. She and Jesse have been friends for a while. So, then you must be Danielle’s brother, the one who lives on a farm in Pennsylvania, who’s a physician . . .”
David considered the remote possibility that she was flirting.
Not that he was interested. He was far too busy with his practice, his farm and his rescue animals to consider dating.
Still, it was nice . . . talking to an attractive woman, maybe even flirting back with her.
Since his divorce, he hadn’t really made the effort.
“Uh . . .” David blushed, returning from his thoughts. “That would be me.”
“You have . . . llamas or something, right? On a farm.”
“Alpacas.” David blinked. “I’m actually surprised Danielle has told you so much about me.”
“Oh,” she said, waving away his concern. “No. It’s not like that. I’m a veterinarian. I have a practice here in Manhattan. That’s probably why she mentioned it. I have a thing with animals,” she added good-naturedly. “So, anyway . . . Do you need help?”
“Excuse me?”
“Pointers, or whatever, about skating? Or, in the very least . . . someone to help get you off the ice without breaking your neck.”
David laughed, and Claire held out her hand.
His gaze fell downward to her ringless fingers. It was just an offer to teach him how to ice-skate, but it felt like so much more.
Though his hesitation lasted only a second, he was torn. He debated telling Claire that he was fine, thanking her for the trouble . . . avoiding any possibility of romance. But then, he thought back to his day with Evelyn. The way she let him know with each breath how much she despised him.
Plus, they were divorced.
Who was he really saving ice-skating for?
“I’m sorry,” Claire said, pulling her hand away. “I’m totally overstep—”
“Actually,” he said, cutting her off, meeting her eyes directly, “I would love any help you have to give here. Because honestly . . . I’m kind of afraid to let go of this railing.”
She offered her hand again. “Well, then,” Claire said, her eyebrows lifting, hinting at mischief. “You have come to the right place . . . because I know all about letting go.”
“Wooooo,” David said, and lifted both his hands into the air. “Look at me! I’m skating!”
Claire clapped, overjoyed, from her vantage point. Granted, he was moving at about the same speed, if not slower, as most of his octogenarian rescue chickens. But he had let go of the railing, taken Claire’s hand and, perhaps even more surprising to him, was having a blast in the process.
“You’re doing great,” she said.
“Aside from embarrassing my niece,” David replied, nodding toward Jesse, who was now fully ignoring him on the center of the ice, “I’m pretty proud of myself, too.”
“Must have a good teacher.” She winked.
“Must.”
A microphone squeaked, drawing their attention away.
The rabbi in charge of the event was calling everyone over to do the blessings on the menorah.
Claire aided David off the ice, and after removing and returning their skates, they found the whole crew, including Jesse and Sara, waiting in a semi-circle with paper plates full of delicious fried Hanukkah foods.
“Uncle David,” Jesse said, powdered sugar from her half-eaten jelly donut falling all over her face and jacket, “you really suck at ice-skating.”
“Hey, now,” Danielle said. “Watch your tongue.”
Jesse shrugged and turned back to the menorah.
The rabbi lit the shamash, the main candle, and they said the blessings over the giant acrylic menorah, officially ushering in the second night.
David found his eyes drifting back to Claire.
She isn’t Evelyn. But he had enjoyed skating with her tonight.
When the blessings were finished, David moved to stand next to her.
“Would you maybe like to get dinner with me sometime?” she said.
Her question caught him off guard. “Oh, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, glancing over to Danielle. “I’m only in town for the week.”
“Oh,” Claire said, pulling back. “Right.”
Danielle narrowed her gaze on him, and then, as sisters are sometimes wont to do, elbowed him in the stomach. The sharp jab was enough to bring him back to his senses. “But maybe tomorrow night?” he said, before adding, “Dinner?”
Her smile returned. “I would love that.”
David and Claire exchanged numbers before Claire and her daughter departed for the night. He waited until they were gone before turning to his sister, raising one eyebrow at her.
“What?” she said innocently.
“I’m just surprised,” he said honestly. “I thought there was a part of you always rooting for me and Evelyn to work out our problems and get back together.”
“I’m rooting for you to be happy. I know you loved Evelyn .
. . but at some point, what we want has to align with what is possible.
Besides, we’re leaving for Florida tomorrow.
It would hurt my soul to think about you sitting around Manhattan all week, all by your lonesome, and during the holidays. ”
His sister had a point.
Still, he felt the hesitation in his chest returning.
“But what if we hit it off?” David asked.
“What would be wrong with that?”
“It’s just . . . the distance, and the farm . . .”
“It’s eighty miles, David.”
“Yeah, but Evelyn—”
Danielle spoke gently. “It’s dinner, David. Dinner. Go out, have fun. If you like her, you can even kiss the woman. But let’s save the discussion about turning this into a workable long-distance relationship for the third date, at least.”
He laughed, and immediately felt relief.
His big sister was right. It was just dinner, after all, two people who liked each other getting to know one another.
His hesitation had nothing to do with Evelyn.
He followed Danielle and Jesse back to their brownstone on the Upper East Side to exchange presents, happy to leave the conversation at that.