Edna shook her head. “I think you’re making a mistake.”

I don’t want an absentee husband, Chris thought. Besides all my other misgivings, he’s been gone for six days and he’s never called once. Chris wrapped the pot roast in aluminum foil and put it in the refrigerator. “I’m going to play checkers with Lucy, and then I suppose I have to pack.”

“When is your plane going out tomorrow?”

“Nine in the morning. Patti’s mother is driving us to Dulles.”

“Ken would drive you to the airport. He’s supposed to be home tonight.”

“I’m not going to depend on Ken. We don’t need him.”

“Speak for yourself. I like having a man around. Makes you want to get up in the morning and put on some pretty red lipstick.”

“Aunt Edna, we’re going to have to get you a boyfriend.”

“That’s not what I meant at all, and you know it. He brings a fresh point of view into the house. And he makes me feel good. Lord, you should have seen him stuffing that turkey. Never saw anyone carry on so! Laughed so hard, I thought I’d die. I was going to have a fresh ham for Christmas, but I said to myself, no sir. I’m going to make that Ken stuff another turkey.”

Another good reason to get rid of him, Chris decided. He’s the one responsible for another fifty-pound turkey.

Chris leaned against the kitchen counter dressed in gray ragg wool socks, faded jeans, and an oversized red shirt. She watched a marshmallow bob in her hot chocolate while she contemplated her schedule for the coming week. There were four skaters and two coaches going to Easterns, and practice time was divided between two rinks in the area. They would have to rent a van to ferry the kids back and forth. A calendar lay on the table in front of her with lesson times blocked off. Chris sipped the cocoa and admitted to herself that she wasn’t nearly as idealistic as she’d pretended to be with Ken. If Patti did well in Easterns and well in Nationals, her parents would certainly send her off to a larger rink to train. She’d already spent two of her summers away-one in Denver, and last year in Tacoma. It hurt. It was painful to bring a skater this far and see her leave for greener pastures.

Chris finished her drink and set the cup on the counter. She heard a car door slam. Her ears pricked at the sound of a key being inserted in the front door, and an inexplicable anger rose in her throat. She switched the light off, hoping he would take the hint and not disturb her.

Chris heard him sigh as he traveled the length of the dining room. Then he stood in the doorway, one hand at his side, one hand resting against the jamb. “Still hiding in the kitchen?”

“Smelled the cocoa?”

“Heard your heart beating.”

He wore a navy suit with a fine gold pinstripe. The jacket hung unbuttoned. His navy-and-red striped tie had been loosened, as had the first button on his sparkling white shirt. Chris noticed the way his well-cut trousers clung to muscular thighs and fell in a clean line to soft black Italian leather shoes. His eyes were tired. The thick black lashes drooped lazily over midnight irises, and dark circles smudged his swarthy complexion. His teeth flashed white in a five o’clock shadow.

“You look tired.”

He dropped his hand from the doorjamb and moved toward her. “I’m so tired, I can barely stand. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.”

Chris felt her heart jump. She wanted him, too. That same chemistry was still there. She’d made no progress at all in developing immunity. When it came to sex appeal, it didn’t seem to matter if it was Ken Callahan or Kenneth Knight. She drew her brows together in a frown. She didn’t know Kenneth Knight. And what she did know of him she didn’t like…but she was attracted to him, anyway. She knew it was ridiculous, but, as desire for Knight rushed through her, she felt as if she were cheating on Callahan. Pure animal lust, she reminded herself. Essential to continuation of the species, and a lot of fun, but not one of the nobler human emotions. She pushed herself away with both hands. “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything. Nothing has been right since you moved in here. You’re a threat to my whole lifestyle and to everyone that I love the most. I want you out of here. I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow morning, and when I get back I want you moved.”

“Chris, I love you.”

“If you love me, you’ll leave.” She turned and ran up the stairs, not even breathing until she’d reached her room and locked the door behind her. She put her hands over her racing heart, hoping to ease the pain she already felt at their parting. She listened for footsteps but heard none. He hadn’t followed her. She’d wanted him to. She’d wanted him to make everything right. She’d wanted him to convince her that he’d never hurt Lucy or Edna. Craziness, she thought. You’re thinking craziness, and you’re acting like some immature, insecure kid. But she couldn’t help it. She was scared-really scared.

Chris swilled down the final dregs of cold coffee. She tossed the empty paper cup into the trash and cracked her knuckles. It was raining in Boston. It had been raining for six days. The sky was gray. The streets were gray. The brick and stone buildings were gray. They had slogged from one rink to the other, carrying skates, heavy clothes, and dry socks. Thank goodness, it was the last day, Chris thought. She was totally out of dry socks and falling miserably short on enthusiasm. The only items she had in quantity were nerves and heartache.

Bitsy came up behind her and draped an arm around her shoulders. “If it’s raining when we get back to Virginia, I’m going to shoot myself.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Waiting for Patti?”

Chris checked her watch. “Yeah. She’s in the ladies’ room.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Checking her makeup. Patti doesn’t get nervous. The deal is that I get nervous for both of us.”

Bitsy grinned. “You don’t have to be nervous. She’s second in the short program. If she skates well today, she’ll be on her way to Nationals.”

“Mmmm,” Chris grunted.

“You look sensational. New dress?”

“Yeah. It was sort of a compromise. Aunt Edna wanted me to buy a wedding gown.” Chris smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her softly clingy skirt and impatiently tapped a toe clad in elegant tinted stockings and high-heeled sling-backs. At the sight of Patti emerging from the ladies’ room, Chris slid her arms into the down coat that had been resting on her shoulders. “Showtime,” she mumbled to Bitsy.

Chris checked Patti’s elaborately beaded turquoise dress, making sure the zipper was secure. She bent to assure herself that Patti’s skate laces were properly tucked into her white boots.

Patti smiled calmly and walked to rinkside beside Chris. Chris looked at the pretty blonde and thought how different each skater’s personality was. As a competitor, Chris had been a bundle of raw nerves-she couldn’t remember enjoying a single competition. Patti was just the opposite; Patti was a brick. In fact, that was part of her problem as a skater-she lacked that special spark that made people sit up in their seats when she was performing. And then there was Alex…Alex loved it all. Alex was a first-class ham. She said that her favorite thing in life was waiting at the gate to hear her name announced over the loudspeaker, then skating out to center ice with everyone watching only her. It showed, too. She always left the gate with a radiant smile that immediately won people’s hearts.

The announcer called out the names of the four Junior women who were still waiting to skate. “Juli Schaller, Suzanne Weiss, Patti Barr, and Audrey MacIntyre, please take the ice for your warm-up.”

Chris took the rubber skate guards from Patti and moved to a position at the barrier where she could act as coach. Patti stroked around the rink twice forward, twice backward, and glided to a stop in front of Chris.