Ice Skating

“The pond is finally frozen solid enough to skate on,” Frederick announced one cold January day. He grinned at Rebecca. “Bundle up the children. We are going to ice skate today.”

Rebecca looked at him uncertainly. “How do you know it is solid enough that we shall not fall through?”

“I saw people much larger than us skating on it, and they were having a wonderful time.”

“Do you also have skates? I only saw one pair. And who will watch the children?”

“I will borrow some from Louis. They have several pairs for their children and grandchildren. Annette has offered to keep watch over the children while we have fun on the ice. You are not getting out of this, dearest, I have thought of everything.” He looked at her expectantly.

Rebecca sighed. “Very well. Let me put some warmer clothing on the children.” She stood and moved into the other room, while Frederick tended to the fire so it would be safe for their absence.

Several minutes later, she emerged, herself a little larger for wearing a few more layers of clothing, and a second set of clothes draped over one arm for James. She handed them to Frederick to put on the boy while she knelt down beside the cradle to dress the baby in additional clothes.

Frederick pulled on the additional clothes on his son, then studied his wife’s backside with a frown.

“Dearest,” he said, hesitantly. “Forgive me for asking, but…has something happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked absentmindedly, wrestling with the baby, who did not want to be put into yet another sweater.

“Your…bottom,” he hedged. “I do not remember it being quite so…round.”

“Oh.” She was silent for a moment, and he noticed the back of her neck was pink. “Well. I assume I shall fall on it quite a bit, as I do not know how to skate. I decided to…pad it a bit.”

A grin slowly spread across his face.

“Ah.” And he left it at that.

She stood and wrapped the baby, now nearly double her size, in a small quilt. Her face was pink from heat, and she looked most unhappy. Frederick picked up the skates in their box and tucked it under one arm, hoisted James up with the other, and the small family set off into the snow.

The sun glittered off the bright white, nearly blinding them all, but he knew the way, so Rebecca looked down and followed in his footsteps. The air was cold and crisp, and it almost hurt to breathe it. Rebecca coughed a little as they made their way through the deep drifts in their small front garden, picking her feet up high, wishing she had a free hand to hold up her skirts so she wouldn’t trip. This whole endeavor felt entirely ill advised. She was sure she was going to trip and fall or drop the baby in her arms, who was starting to squirm and make holding her all that more difficult.

Once they were on the road outside their house, the walking was easier, the many feet and carts before them having packed down the snow. At least now, Rebecca reasoned, she didn’t need to hold her skirts out of the way.

The pond wasn’t far, and before they could see it, they could hear the shouting and laughing of other villagers who had had the same idea. She could hear the sound of the ice skate blades cutting along the surface of the ice as people made their way around. She felt a sense of unease building in her stomach as they made their way through the trees and around fallen branches, along a path that had been cleared by the revelers ahead of them.

“You are here at last,” Louis called, waving them over. “We thought you might have changed your mind.” He smiled jovially. He was wearing his shirt sleeves and no coat, his breath coming in white puffs and his cheeks ruddy with exertion. He’d clearly been skating for a while. Annette sat on a cleared log, bundled in an old quilt. Her cheeks were pink, too, but from the cold.

Rebecca made her way over to Annette carefully. “Are you not skating?”

“Oh no, my skating days are behind me. Hand me the baby and you young ones have fun.” She reached for Genevieve and smiled.

Rebecca reluctantly sat down and looked up at Frederick expectantly. “You shall have to help me. I have no idea how to put them on.”

He laughed. “Quite the princess, are you not?” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

Her cheeks warmed and she glanced at Annette and Louis, but they were too busy with the children to notice. Louis was carefully holding James’ hands and skating backwards slowly, pulling James around on his feet on the ice while Annette coo’d at the baby, unwrapping her considerably in the cold air.

Frederick lifted Rebecca’s foot and carefully fitted a skate onto the bottom of her boot, then tied it on snugly. “Is that too tight?” he asked, looking up at her.

She shook her head. “No, it feels quite secure.”

He nodded, then tied the other skate on her other foot. He sat on the log beside her and tied on a pair of skates Louis had left on the ground at Annette’s feet for him. Once he was ready, he carefully stood up, and held out his hands for Rebecca. “Shall we, dearest?”

She sighed. “I suppose we shall,” she muttered. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her up. She looked over at Annette. “If she cries…” she began.

“Oh, she will be just fine with me,” Annette assured her. “I had seven of my own, you have nothing to worry about.” She beamed at them. “Go have fun.”

Rebecca reluctantly let Frederick lead her onto the edge of the frozen pond, every step exceedingly wobbly. She was afraid she would turn her ankle. She carefully stepped onto the ice. Her foot started to slip out from under her and she grabbed for Frederick, her eyes wide. She held tight to his shoulders.

“I have you,” he laughed. “Get your balance.”

She attempted to get her feet under her, but they kept slipping out from under her on the ice. It was much slipperier than it looked. After several attempts, she finally managed to get her feet to stay relatively close to each other, though farther apart than was necessarily ladylike. And she was still clutching her husband in a most unseemly fashion. When she was confident enough to look around, however, no one else seemed to be looking, to her relief.

“Do you feel as though we could possibly take a step?” Frederick asked calmly.

“A step?” she asked, bewildered. “I can barely stand, and you want to take a step?”

He chuckled. “Or if not a step, release me and stand on your own?”

She hesitated. “Perhaps not on my own, but maybe not in such a close embrace,” she allowed.

His hands slid down her arms to her elbows and he gently pushed back from her, holding on to her firmly so she didn’t move. She wobbled dangerously, her skirts swaying around her legs. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. His hands tightened on her elbows until she steadied, then moved down to her forearms, then to her hands. He grinned at her. And then he let go.

A small peep let out from her mouth. She was utterly alone now. Standing on the ice all by herself. Frozen in terror. Her feet started to slide forward and apart, and she had no idea how to stop them.

“Push them together,” he instructed.

“How?” she asked, bewildered, looking down at the traitorous appendages.

“Just…push them?” he asked confused. “They are your feet. Point your toes inward and push. Or push forward and take a step.”

She tried to do as he said, but it didn’t go as he’d hoped. She angled her toes inward, but she overcorrected, and now they were tangling with each other, and she was overbalanced. She was going to fall on her face. She started to wave her arms to stop herself, pushing Frederick away. He, in turn, started to lose his balance, and skated away a little to regain it. She overcorrected the other way and fell hard on her overly padded bottom. She let out a loud gasp. It hadn’t quite been padded enough, as it turned out.

Frederick skated back quickly. “Dearest, are you all right,” he asked, concerned. He knelt on the ice, reaching for her.

She eyed him. “I am fine, husband. Nothing but a bruised ego and bottom. I suppose you want me to try again?”

“Only if you are willing.”

She sat on the ice, debating. “I may as well,” she groused, giving him a hand to help her up. “We are already here.”

Frederick grinned. “I knew you were not the type to give up so easily,” he said cheerfully, pulling her to her feet.

She didn’t reply, as she was too focused on regaining her balance.

The rest of the afternoon was spent trying, and mostly failing, to learn to stand and push off successfully on her own. She eventually got to the point where she could do it while holding on to Frederick. She was finally able to convince Frederick that ice skating was not going to be an activity that they would be able to share with ease. But at least James enjoyed it. Louis promised to bring around some child sized skates he had soon, for James to use for the next time they all went skating.

The small family set off through the snow drifts as the sun started to drop, turning the white mounds blue and gray and making the cold air even colder. Everyone’s faces were red, and their cheeks were numb. The snow started to fall again as they walked through their garden, making entering their home especially cozy.

They all shed the layers and layers of clothing in the main room and draped the sodden clothing on chairs to dry, standing in underclothes in the heat of the fire, Frederick entertaining the children while Rebecca checked on the soup she’d set to simmer that morning.

She ladled it up and set the bowls on the table, wincing slightly as she sat gingerly down to join them. Frederick caught the motion and raised his eyebrows at her.

“Everything all right, dearest?” he asked, cutting a piece of chicken down to a smaller size for James while Rebecca bared her breast for Genevieve to nurse.

She gave him a look over their daughter’s head. “I did not have quite enough padding, that is all,” she said simply.

Frederick hid a smile as he took a small bite of his soup. “Shall I fetch you a pillow?” he asked innocently.

Rebecca huffed in annoyance. “No, I am perfectly fine, thank you.”

“You do not seem perfectly fine,” he said mildly. “You seem to be in a bit of discomfort.”

She pursed her lips at him but said nothing for a moment. She took a bite of the soup. “Tomorrow, I believe I will roast a chicken. We eat a lot of soups and stews.”

“Well, but you are excellent at making soups and stews,” he pointed out. “Perhaps you simply prefer to only do things you are good at.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “But then I should never learn anything new? Such as ice skating?”

“Well, I am not saying that,” he said tactfully.

“Ice skating does not agree with me. Roast chicken does.” She shifted again and grimaced again.

“Are you sure you do not want a pillow?” This time, there was real concern in his voice.

“Yes, please.” She looked up and smiled. “Just do not offer me ice.”