Two Left Skates and a Wedding

How it begins

Leila Venn had expected ice to be slippery. She had not expected it to take the matter personally.

Her first step carried her forward. Her second suggested a different destination. By the third, she was attached to the rink barrier with both hands and an expression she normally reserved for dangerous offshore winds.

A woman in black skates stopped beside her without appearing to move her feet.

"You must be Leila."

"That depends. Is she insured?"

"Ada Dorr. Your coach."

Ada looked at the hired skates, the rigid shoulders, and the white grip on the barrier. She did not laugh. Leila liked her immediately and wished she hadn't.

"Your sister says you're performing at her wedding."

"My sister uses the word performing quite loosely. I thought I was agreeing to carry flowers."

Across the rink, workers were testing a canopy of small white lights. In three weeks, Leila's younger sister would marry beneath them. The rest of the family had interpreted the ice-rink venue as an opportunity for photographs. Leila had interpreted it as a structural challenge to the human skeleton.

Ada held out one gloved hand.

"We're going to learn to fall."

"I've already developed an instinct for that."

"Safely."

The word changed the offer. Leila spent her working days teaching strangers to trust a kite, a harness, and a stretch of sea. She recognized the patience required to stand beside someone who was trying to disguise fear as personality.

She let go of the barrier.

For half a second, nothing terrible happened. Ada's hand was steady. The rink smelled of cold rubber and fresh coffee from the upstairs cafe.

Then Leila's left skate departed without consulting the rest of her.

Ada lowered with her instead of pulling her upright.

They landed sitting side by side beneath the unfinished wedding lights.

"Good," Ada said.

Leila stared at her. "You have a very alarming definition of success."