by Amy Field
Her mother arrived the week after Jacob showed back up, and at the month-mark, when talk about her moving home grew more serious, her dad came out too. It was decided that the best course of action would be for Catherine to return to Kansas and live with her parents for a time. There she would have full time support and people around the house as she got back on her feet, as well as access to regular physical therapy.
The day before she was scheduled for discharge they threw a party for her at Walter Reed. All of her new friends from the floor were there, along with her family, friends, and of course, Jacob. People made toasts and praised Catherine and her team for all of her hard work. She was especially moved when a number of her veteran friends talked about the inspiration she had been to them, and that they now believed firmly that if she could get better and return to an ordinary life, so could they.
Finally, towards the end of the party, the unmistakable sound of silver clinking on glass filled the air. Jacob rose, his large frame towering over most of the others, and spoke.
“As most of you know, Catherine and met nearly two years ago now when Catherine came on a hike through the Alps. I was hired to be her guide, and we discovered on that trip a great affection for each other, and a common vision for our future. We lost sight of that vision, but Catherine’s injury and rehab have brought us back together. And so now, with all our friends and family present, I’d like to ask you a question I once asked you long ago…”
With that he knelt, and Catherine raised herself up out of the wheelchair in which she’d been sitting. He produced a box from inside his jacket pocket and offered it up to her. She didn’t even year the words, just yelped out a “Yes!” and started crying. The room erupted into applause and before she knew it she was wrapped up in Jacob’s arms and he was spinning her, around and around and around again. And as he set her back on her feet, which grew steadier by the day, he reached backwards to the table on which his glass was set and raised it. “To climbing the mountain again, no matter how steep it seems, and no matter how far you’ve fallen.” And crowd responded with cheers, which sounded eerily like an “Amen.”
Jacob accompanied Catherine home and helped her resettle with her family. Then he went to New York and Chicago and cleaned out her condos there, selling most of her things but saving personal mementos. After the practicalities of life in both cities were taken care of Jacob moved back to Kansas City where Catherine’s rehab continued to progress steadily.
One night Jacob was reading in the living room when Catherine walked in from her bedroom, where she had been working.
“Hey Jacob?” she asked.
“Ya, Babe. What can I do?”
“You mind taking me for a ride?”
“Of course not.”
Catherine was more than used to cars by now, but they still hadn’t cleared her to drive yet. They wanted to make sure she had adequate nerve control over both legs. This wasn’t an uncommon request. Usually they’d just zip over to the Target or the Walgreens for shampoo or something, but instead she had him drive her to her old ice rink.
As they pulled up into the handicapped parking spot Jacob glanced over at Catherine.
“Sweetheart, what are we doing here? You know the doctors have been clear about skating. One bad fall could undo everything…”
“I’m not here to skate, Jacob. I just left something here that I’ve been thinking about. I’d like to have it back.”
Jacob gave her a quizzical look, shrugged, and then smiled. “Alright.”
He moved to help her out of the car but she shrugged him off. As she’d gotten her feet back under her there was a very definite “I’ll do it myself!” streak that he hadn’t seen before. He and her dad would joke about it from time to time as apparently this is what she was like as a little girl.
It did not surprise him that she still had keys to the rink. She was, after all, the most accomplished athlete ever to come through the little local complex. Nor was he shocked that she still knew where lights and such were. She walked them over to the skate rack, selected a pair, and handed them over to him.
“Here,” she said. “Put these on.”
“But, Catherine,” he sputtered. “I don’t skate.”
“You do now,” she insisted, and in a tone which he had learned not to argue with.
After losing his shoes and lacing up his own skates he stepped gingerly onto the ice.
“What’s a-matter,” she teased. “You scale Everest and K2 and now are afraid of a little old ice rink in Kansas?”
That set him off. He tried to step off faster to gain some speed, but wound up tumbling right onto his bum. He looked shocked, even hurt for a moment, but then the both of them burst into familiar laughter.
“This isn’t as easy as you make it look,” he said, trying to get himself back up.
“No,” she said. “It’s not. Here. You’re doing it wrong.”
And without even thinking about it she was back out on the ice. She didn’t have skates on, but she glided easily enough with her sneakers. Jacob’s eyes were like saucers by the time she reached him. She set herself down next to him and was demonstrating how to stand when she realized he was still gawping.
“Take a picture,” she said. “It’ll last longer.”
“But you’re, you’re, you…”
“Listen,” she said, sitting down with a huff next to him. “Since this all started, you’ve been the one guiding me, teaching me how to do things, and especially once I’d fallen, how to get back up again. Now let me show you.”
And she did. She taught him how to get up after falling, and how to glide, and how to speed. She taught him curves and turns and spins and whirls. And six months later, after having exchanged vows in a pretty little country church, they had their reception at the old ice rink, and the two of them danced together on the ice.
And you can still find them today, in a pretty little chalet at the foot of Mont Blanc, prepping teams and leading groups up the mountain and through the Alps. That is, except during skating season, when you’re more likely to find Catherine staying in Zurich, teaching the next team of Swiss speed skaters just how Americans have come to dominate the sport. She’s now the winningest speed skating coach in history. If, by chance, you do visit their chalet sometime you’ll know it by the cross above the door, and the sign which reads: Hotel Fallen: Where You Come to Get Up Again. And before every hike, no matter the group, you’ll be invited to pray; and if anyone complains the get a story, a story they, and you, are likely never to forget.
THE END
Book II
The Billionaire’s Chef
A Foodie Romance
Book III
The Quarterback’s Rush
A Young Adult College Romance
Chapter 1
Janie woke up with an uneasy notion. It felt as if everything around her was out of place. The bed under her was not her bed. The room the bed stood in was not her room. Everything smelled sterile and unfamiliar – not as much like in a brand new house as in a brand new car. Fractures of lively conversation and occasional giggles intruded into her privacy. The noise had no visible source. It was oozing from the walls, it rushed at Janie from every possible angle. It was the excited but rather meaningless banter of a faceless, juvenile crowd. She did not need to understand what they were saying to know what they were talking about. The football team threw a big welcome party in the dorm yesterday night and everybody went.
Everybody except her, Janie thought.
Right, she reminded herself after a yawn. Her mind was getting sharper. She stretched her arms and legs.
Right, she thought, welcome to college.
Janie sat up on that unfamiliar bed and slipped her naked feet into her familiar pair of warm slippers. Her panties were white and old-fashioned. But at least they fitted her well. Her upper body was covered by an oversized T-shirt that had the college mascot printed on its front. It was part of the welcome package she received like everybody el
se moving into the dorm for the first time at the beginning of the term. The package consisted of useless souvenirs from the college’s gift shop – a bundle of leftover stuff no one was willing to buy anymore. And Janie could only understand why: who would want an XXXXXL sized Tee that came in women’s cut and had the silhouette of a huge, red, furious rhino charging forward printed on it?
Janie rubbed her eyes and looked around her new room. She had no real reason for complaining. It was spacious. Nothing fancy but there was enough room left for two people to move around inside it comfortably, even with a pair of identical cupboards, beds, and desks standing by the walls.
The windows were huge and faced east. The thick drapes were pulled aside. The optimistic first rays of a rising sun flooded the room. They promised Janie that she had a beautiful day ahead of herself.
Her eyes rested for a moment on the empty bed standing by the opposite wall. Linda, Janie’s roommate, left a mess like she always did. There were pieces of clothing piled on it in a haphazard manner – Linda had to try on every garment from her cupboard before she was able to make up her mind.
Janie did not blame Linda for her vanity. As first cheerleader of the college’s infamous football team, the Charlotte Rhinos, she must have been all about appearance. They had been living together for less than a whole week but Janie already knew that they were never going to become friends. They could not be more different. The only thing Janie hoped for regarding their flawed relationship was that it would never get any worse. The last thing she needed was an enemy like Linda in the dorm.
Janie yawned again and got up on her feet. She took her bathing caddy out of her cupboard and chose a clean towel. Drowsily, she started ahead towards the door of the room. The bathrooms were located at the end of the corridor.
She opened the door of her room and got hit by lightning. Not by a real one. But the physical sensation that rushed through her unsuspicious body could not be more authentic. A shocking strike hit her: on the corridor, in front of her room stood the golden boy of the college, Cal Bailey, captain of the football team. Her first reaction was followed by a striking shock: Cal stood in front of her bare naked.
Janie froze. She was franticly looking for anything appropriate to say. But her sharp, exceptional mind let Janie down. She felt that her thoughts sort of melted while the most popular guy of the whole institution kept smiling a stupid, radiating smile at her. He just stood there bare naked and smiled with a mixture of patience and confidence flashing up in his pair of bright, blue eyes. Janie realized that her cheeks must have turned blistering red – she felt an incredible heat scorching all over her blushing face.
Finally Cal had mercy on her and opened his mouth.
“Hey” he said, “you must be Janie. Janie Williams.”
The spell that forced Janie to stare at Cal’s smooth skin, broad chest, and muscular belly – and some of his other uncovered and remarkable body-parts – finally broke. She was free to nod.
“I’m Cal,” he said and passed beside Janie. Janie turned around. Cal pushed the door in and entered her room.
“Linda told me a lot about you,” Cal added over his shoulder, “I’m her boyfriend.”
Janie remained speechless. She had caught a glimpse of a perfectly curving butt before the door closed behind Cal. The cause of her embarrassment vanished but she was still far from being quite herself. She staggered backwards and bent herself against the wall. She was in bad need of support – her legs felt weak and her body remained in a slight tremble.
“Look at you,” a sharp, mocking voice snapped at her from the end of the corridor, “do not get your hopes up too soon, bookworm.” The remark was followed by a bouquet of giggles which hurt Janie’s dignity even more than the previous statement itself. She did not have to look in order to confirm whom the voice belonged to. Linda and her cheerleader friends got back to the dorm.
It took Janie some serious effort not to blush again.
She smiled at Linda as they approached her.
“What would I hope for, anyway?” she hinted as calmly as possible. Unfortunately, her voice did not ring confidently enough. A little chime of falseness gave her out.
Linda took her stance right in front of Janie. The cheerleader was a little taller and a lot more athletic than her. Janie shook her head and stared at the tiles covering the corridor.
“Yeah,” Linda sneered, “you shall have no hopes since Cal only dates cheerleaders…”
Janie was tempted to explain that it was not what she meant. She would not have wanted to do anything with a dumbass brute like Cal even if he came begging to her. She was not here to win popularity contests, fall in love, or get into fights with possessive maniacs like Linda. She only wanted to get her degree – to study and be left alone in peace.
Linda took a step backwards.
“Look at you” she whispered just loudly enough so all of her friends could also clearly hear it, “you are trembling all over in excitement. That was just a naked body.”
“But what a body,” one of Linda’s friends remarked with a dreamy voice.
The cheerleaders burst out in uncontrollable giggles, again. Like a bunch of high school juniors – Janie loathed each and every one of them for their lighthearted stupidity.
“Shut up, Lindsay,” Linda snapped at her friend. The giggling was cut off in an instant.
“Keep your distance,” Linda warned Janie then she turned back to her friends.
“Is he really going to take you out for a ride in his car?” one of the girls quizzed Linda.
Janie did not care about them and they did not seem to care about her anymore. She used the opportunity to move away from the bunch towards the bathrooms. The chatter behind her back went on in a similar fashion. The exclusive topic: Cal Bailey. The voice of the questioners: borderline hysterical. Janie felt like she would start puking up if she had to listen to them any longer. She pushed the door of the bathroom in.
“If you are so much in heat,” she heard Linda shouting after her, “you should get yourself your own source of entertainment.”
Janie glanced back at Linda as she stood triumphantly in the middle of the corridor. The stupid wench, Janie thought.
“What was the last time you had been together with someone, anyway?” Linda added with another of her trademark sneers.
“It has been a long time,” Janie muttered in embarrassment and walked into the bathroom. She could still hear the cheerleaders laughing on the corridor. The hurtful noises faded away only after she turned on the shower’s faucet.
While undressing, Janie was still thinking about her answer to Linda’s last question. She stepped into the shower case. The cool water soothed her skin. It cascaded down her shoulders tenderly, leaving Janie with an illusion of gentle strokes caressing her bare back tirelessly.
What was the last time she had been together with someone? Had she told Linda the truth, Janie thought, it would have been only worse.
Chapter 2
On her chemistry class, Janie found some remedy for the poisonous mishaps that took place in the dorm that morning.
“Our first lab experiment this semester is going to be a qualitative analyses of cations in an aqueous mixture,” Professor Dean Moriarty announced to the class. He stood on top of a podium, in front of a huge, green chalkboard.
His voice filled the classroom, it rang with optimism and passion. Unlike most other professors in the college, he dressed casually and had a really hip air about himself.
Janie guessed he could not be a day older than forty.
As he stood there in front of the class, wearing an “I fcuking love science” Tee with a pair of khaki shorts, he held his stance like a boxing phenomenon right before a title contending fight which he expected to win with a first round K.O.
The class went gradually silent.
A guilty little grin flashed up on Janie’s face. Professor Moriarty was hot by all means. And judging by the nature of the glances he received from t
he other girls, Janie was not the only one realizing this.
“I’m happy that I have your attention” Moriarty continued. He turned to the chalkboard and started to scribble down some formulas. “And why wouldn’t I have it,” Moriarty laughed, “our topic is as fancy as it ever gets.” Moriarty spoke confidently. His words did not lack credibility. Still, the classroom answered him with a wave of suspicious giggling. Even Janie had to wonder whether he was serious or only joking.
Moriarty was talking to the chalkboard.
“Is there anyone who could tell me what cations are?”
The class immediately went silent. Janie felt like raising a hand and giving an answer but a quick look-around convinced her otherwise. Her classmates stared ahead of themselves with glassy eyes and occasional squints. It was obvious not only that neither of them had never heard of cations but also that they were ready to roast anyone giving an answer. Janie had already become the bookworm of the dorm and she did not dare risking the same thing to happen in this class, too. She bit into her lower lip, her arm remained resting on her thigh under the desk.
Moriarty turned around in front of the chalkboard and flashed a supportive, encouraging smile towards the class.
“What about an aqueous mixture then?” he demanded, sort of muttering. The silence in the class grew so intense by then that even the last rows could hear each and every word of the baffled Moriarty. Janie knew the answer but remained hiding behind an expressionless face. Her eyes met with Moriarty’s for a second but she made sure that the professor would not see any sparks of intelligence in them. She stared ahead of herself in the same fashion like everyone else – with glassy eyes and a slightly bored impression.
The door of the classroom was swung wide open. Janie could not imagine how this day would turn any worse until she recognized that Cal Bailey was standing on the threshold of her chemistry classroom. That just did the trick. His smile was as radiating as ever, his cool blue eyes full of confidence like always.
