Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Memory’s grip on the seat of the bench was so tight, she would likely see white knuckles if her red gloves didn’t obscure her hands. Staring at a pair of brand new, shiny, white, leather skates that had somehow managed to work their way onto her feet was intimidating. She couldn’t remember exactly how she’d gotten here.

The week had been a whirlwind. She’d been so busy at the store. Ellie was a blessing for certain, working extra hours when needed. With Christmas only three days away, everyone in town, and lots of visitors, had been in for last minute gifts and décor. Memory hadn’t even been able to make it to see Santa with Lorelei the day before, which was disappointing.

When Dak had stopped by Saturday afternoon with a gift wrapped box in his hands, she realized she hadn’t even spoken to him for almost a week, not since the snowball fight. She’d waved at him a few times through the window, but that had been it. Her thoughts had returned to him often while she was working, but there’d been no time to slow down and even have a cup of coffee. So when he presented her with a brand new pair of expensive ice skates in her size (thanks to Kirsten) how could she say no?

“Are you ready?” He was sitting next to her, giving her some space and some time, a small, encouraging smile on his face.

Memory looked out at the other skaters. Most of the town would be here at some point today, but it was still a little early. They’d grabbed a quick bite to eat after church from a fast food joint while others were probably at home eating or at the diner. The thirty or forty skaters already taking advantage of the one day a year they could skate on the frozen town lake seemed to be enjoying themselves. Older couples held hands. Children twirled and sped by, their parents trailing them with hands out in case of a fall. No one seemed to be doing that, though. Not yet.

Dak scooted a little closer to her and put his hand on her arm. “Memory, you’ll be fine. It’ll be fun.”

She turned and looked at him, seeing confidence in his brown eyes. “I guess I’m ready. But I wasn’t born ready.”

He chuckled and stood, his skates as easy for him to move on as shoes. Both hands out, he waited as Memory pulled in a deep breath and took hold of his outstretched palms. She pulled up, wobbling on the thin blades.

“You’ve got it,” he assured her. “Mem, look at me.” She met his eyes, her bottom lip trembling while her stomach tightened into a knot. “I’m not going to let you fall.”

Memory nodded, wanting to believe him. Carefully, she began to make her way to the ice, holding on to Dak with one hand, the other ready to grab hold of him should she misstep. They made it to the edge of the lake, and she hesitated. A little girl glided by, smiling and waving. Memory didn’t want to compare herself to a kindergartner, but it seemed like, if such a tiny girl could do this, so could she. Facing her fear, she slid her right foot forward onto the ice.

“See, you’ve got it,” Dak encouraged as she moved her left foot forward. She lost her balance slightly but corrected, his grip tightening. “No problem.”

Like a newborn deer, she pushed herself forward on wobbly legs, keeping ahold of Dak, who was skating backward at a snail’s pace. The ice was even more foreign now than it had been the last time she’d dared to go out on it, ten years ago. But she hadn’t fallen yet, so that was something. Memory took a few more short strides, setting her blades into the ice. With each step, she felt a little more confident. Dak led her farther onto the lake, keeping her close to the edge so they could make a wide lap away from the twirlers and tricksters in the center ice. She imagined he could be out there with them if he wanted to be, but she knew he preferred to be right where he was.

“You’re doing great,” Dak said as Memory continued to build her confidence, sliding along at a steady, but slow, pace. He was still backward and not struggling with that at all, but she hoped she’d be able to let go of him eventually, or at least let him turn around.

“I probably look silly,” she muttered, glancing around.

“Nah, no one’s really paying us any mind.” He smiled at her, and she doubted that was the case. People seemed to stare at him no matter where he went.

A couple she knew came by, and Memory raised her hand, losing her balance. Dak’s other hand came out to steady her. She recovered, her heart hammering in her chest. “Thanks.”

“I told you, I won’t let you fall.”

She believed him.

Talking and skating was hard at first, but after Memory made it around the lake once, she felt fairly sure that she wasn’t about to fall and bust her backside. Dak carefully let go of her arm for a second so that he could turn around the other way, and she was relieved when she could latch on to him again. By then, more people were arriving, and even though the area of the lake roped off for skating was fairly large, it would be more difficult to navigate with extra people sailing by. Dak was good at steering around obstacles though, so Memory decided to try to relax and let him take charge.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Dak said, watching where they were going and avoiding areas of congestion. “Why is the town called Christmas Falls?”

“What do you mean?” Memory asked, praying she could talk and skate at the same time.

“Well, there’s no river, no falls. Why Christmas Falls?”

Memory glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, a sarcastic grin pulling up the side of her mouth. “Why is Carmel called Carmel? There’s no caramel.”

“Ha, ha.” Dak shook his head at her. “I don’t know. Maybe the founder really liked sweets.”

“Unlike you,” Memory teased. “Actually, my grandma told me the story behind the naming of Christmas Falls, though I’m not sure how true it is.”

A teenaged couple cut in front of them, so Memory slowed down even more, Dak keeping pace. “What did she tell you?”

“She said that the founder of the town was a man named Timothy Gill. Early in December, he set out on foot from Terre Haute, headed this direction, saying he hated it there, and he was going to start his own town. When his friends and family asked him where he was going to found his new town, he said, ‘Wherever I fall.’ Well, by Christmas Day, this is where he had made it, and he couldn’t walk anymore. So....”

“He fell?” Dak had a questioning smirk on his face.

“Yep. Then, he named the town Christmas Falls to mark the occasion.” Memory giggled, and Dak laughed as well.

Still chuckling, he asked, “You don’t really think that’s true, do you?”

Memory shrugged. “I have no idea. But it makes for a good story.”

They skated on for a few more moments in silence, Memory seeing lots of people she knew and nodding her head as a greeting instead of trying to wave. “When was the last time you ice skated?” Dak asked, his grip on her hand a little less severe than it had been when they’d first started.

Memory thought back to that day. “It’s been... ten years, I guess. A couple of my friends and I went skating after doing some Christmas shopping at the mall—in Carmel, actually.”

Dak nodded, having to know exactly what she was talking about since that was his home town. “I’ve been there many times. Did you have fun then?”

“Noooo.” He laughed, and Memory tried not to so she wouldn’t lose her balance. “I had been a few times before, but that was the first time in a while. And I’d never been good at it. I don’t know. I guess I just don’t have that gene. Anyway, my friends, Rebekkah and Kathryn, were out there twirling around like... Tara Lipinski... and I kept falling and busting my bottom.” She shook her head, remembering how badly it had hurt. “Anyway, I ended up sitting out, just watching from a bench.”

Dak’s forehead puckered slightly for a moment. Memory was about to ask him what he was thinking when he shook out of it. “Well, I’m glad you gave it another chance, Mem. You’re doing great.”

“It’s not like you gave me much of a choice,” she teased. “I mean, these skates are pretty awesome.”

He turned slightly red. “I wanted to make sure you knew you could trust them.”

She smiled, thinking he meant she could trust him, too. She was beginning to. “Mem—you call me Mem sometimes. No one’s ever called me that before.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I can stop.”

“No, it’s fine. I like it.” Memory slowed to let another skater cross in front of them. “I’ve never really had a nickname. My dad occasionally calls me Ree , but not very often. Usually when he knows I’m upset about something, and he’s trying to make me feel better.”

“That’s cute.” Dak readjusted his grip. “It’s nice he has his own nickname for you.”

“Yeah.” She glanced around but didn’t see her dad’s truck yet. He was likely still eating lunch at Sheila’s house. “He’s a pretty cool guy.”

“He is. He’s great. Your whole family is, even your sister.”

Memory wrinkled her nose. She wanted to agree, but Kirsten had her moments of not being so awesome. “It was pretty funny seeing Maison slam her in the face with that snowball last weekend.”

“Ha. Yep. I’m glad you and I got kids as targets, though, so when we just lobbed them in there, no one made fun of us for being soft.”

Memory agreed. She’d been standing across from Lorelei, so there was no way she was tossing that snowball too hard. All her niece had talked about the last week were those crazy cardinals. “How about you? Do you have any other nicknames, I mean, besides Dak?”

He thought for a second. “When I played basketball in high school, my friends called me Swoosh, but other than that.... Well, I haven’t always gone by Dak.”

“You haven’t?”

“No, not until I started college. My mom still forgets a lot of times and calls me the wrong name.” He chuckled. “I guess after calling me Cody for eighteen years, she’s never gonna get it right.”

Memory’s eyes bulged, and her feet stopped moving, realization sinking in. Dak pulled to a halt next to her, his skates kicking up flecks of ice. He was looking at her like he thought he might need to call an ambulance. “Did you say ‘Cody’?”

“Yes... why?”

“Cody... from Carmel. Who ice skates....”

Dak cocked his head to the side slightly and looked at her, not saying anything, letting her think. But she could see in his eyes he’d already gotten there, too. He remembered.

“Dak, I think I met you once. Ten years ago. At the skating rink.”