Page 26 of 10 Things I Skate About You

“Say more.”

“Just standing on your left leg. Not to build strength, but to build the neural connection between your brain and the knee that your injury disrupted. It would reestablish trust between yourself and your body.”

“Go on.”

“Well, if you were my client—which is to say, if you weren’t you, because I would never take you on as a client—I’d have you do a lot of foundational hip-hinge movement patterns. You’ve been compensating to protect your left knee. Overworking your right hip. Your right glute and hip abductor are chronically overloaded, and at some point that’s going to become its own problem, independent from the knee. And I think you should do more edge drills on the ice. Slow and controlled, to rebuild your confidence on that inside edge.”

Jesus.

She’s been paying attention.

All this time.

Staring down at my migas, I mutter, “Okay.” But what I really want to say isMarry me.OrWhy the fuck couldn’t you saythaton your podcast instead of focusing on all the horseshit you’ve been ranting about for years, Red?

I wipe my mouth and get up from the table. “There’s a chair I want you to have. I’ll go get it from the workshop.” I bend down to kiss the top of her head and then grab a coat, slip on rain boots, and walk out the back door.

“Okay…” I hear her say as I close the door.

What a couple of fools we’ve beenis all I can think as I walk down the path to the workshop. All those years wasted arguing with each other when we could have been doing so much else. But I’m done with all that. That is to say that from now on we’re going to arguewhiledoing so much else.

And I’ve got just the chair for her. My version of a throne. So she knows she’s my queen.

I carry it back to the house. A Windsor chair with armrests. Made it last year from big-leaf maple. Beautiful warm honey tones. I was going to sell it online, but I want Kate to have it. When I bring it into the kitchen, she isn’t there. But I notice my phone is still on the counter from when I was cooking, and it keeps vibrating like it needs an exorcism. I put the chair down and take one look at the lock screen.

Shit.

I can hear the heels of her boots on the hardwood floor in the front hall. “Kate?”

She’s got her coat on and she’s reaching for the front door handle.

“What’re you doing?” I get between her and the door.

“Tina’s coming to pick me up.”

“What happened?”

“I wasn’t looking at your phone on purpose,” she says, staring down at the floor.

“Those guys are idiots.”

“They wanted to know if you lost the bet. Because as far as they could tell you never kissed me in public. ‘The beer logo prevails!’ they said.”

“I can explain.”

“What the hell, Foley?! You did all that to win a bet?”

“No! I didn’t even try to kiss you in public, in case you don’t remember. I sacrificed the new logo for you.”

Shaking her head, she says, “I knew something was up when you started with all that ‘I’m just trying to get to know you better over the course of the next couple of hours’ crap and acting nice.”

“I wasn’t acting nice—I felt like being nice to you because I like you.”

“Whatever.” She pushes me out of the way, and I let her. “Thanks for the date, Foley,” she says, opening the door. “Sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of it.”

I follow her out onto the porch. “Will you listen to what I’m saying to you? I forfeited the bet! I decided I just wanted to kiss you in private—I don’t even care about the stupid logo anymore.”

Kate suddenly becomes comically irate. “It’s not stupid—it’s cute! The fact that you don’t understand how amazing that logo is has always been one of the things I hated most about you!”