Chapter 6: The Parking Lot

"You know where I am," I said.

"Your photograph is in a window on Main Street. Of course I know."

The line went dead before I could answer.

At three, a black campaign SUV pulled into the rink lot.

My mother's driver stayed at the wheel.

She got out alone in the same navy suit she'd worn on the lawn.

The Rollers were gathering for an extra practice after my post.

Several stood by the doors with skates hanging from their fingers.

Catherine looked at the taped number on my helmet.

"Is that part of the joke?"

"It's my number."

"I saw the picture you put online."

She had never come to a rink for me before.

When I was little, she'd watched my school concerts from the aisle, phone to her ear.

Now she was standing in a lot with twenty women waiting for practice.

I could see her searching their faces for whoever was in charge.

"I put it there."

"Your face is all over the country again."

"It already was."

She glanced at the women by the entrance.

"Can we speak in the car?"

"You can speak here."

Joel came out carrying a box of paper cups.

He stopped near the door and leaned the box against his leg.

My mother gave him a quick look, then faced me again.

"There's an interview tomorrow. You and Grayson together."

"No."

"It's a redemption interview. He says he will stand by you."

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