Chapter 14: The Throw He Missed

Theo's apartment over the rink had one window, one chair and a bed he plainly never made.

I sat on the edge of the bed with my boots still on, and I told him everything Paige had said.

He listened with his back to the window and his arms folded.

"He wants you at the boards in front of cameras," he said when I finished. "He'll offer you a ring first."

"Then he'll learn what I do with rings."

"I'd like to see that."

"You saw it. It was on a ledge in Seattle."

That got half a smile out of him.

It went away fast.

"Can I tell you something you didn't ask for?" he said.

"You can tell me anything you want."

"I don't think I can."

"Then tell me anyway."

He sat down on the chair, backward, with his arms across the top of it.

"My old partner broke her ankle in September on a triple throw," he said.

"It was a Tuesday, on a flat rink, with nobody watching."

I kept my hands in my lap.

"I let go late. Two inches, maybe three. She came down on the outside edge, and I heard it."

"Theo."

"I carried her off the ice myself."

He looked at the floor.

"She told me from the stretcher that it wasn't my fault. She's told me every week since, by phone."

"She's retired now. She's twenty-nine, and she coaches kids."

"And you haven't thrown anyone since."

"I threw you in front of four thousand people, because I had nothing left to lose that night."

His voice stayed flat.

"I want to throw you the real one. The triple. And every time I think of it, my hands forget what they're for."

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