Swallowing my disappointment, I maneuvered toward two bearded guys in leather jackets. I smiled and said hi as if I didn’t care whether they answered or not. 

​

“What’s up, Buttercup?” said the one with the ponytail. 

​

Before I could respond, his companion pulled him away. They swooped toward a pair of lacquer-haired girls a few yards ahead of me. The guys offered the girls their arms. The girls shook their heads. The guys shrugged and sped off. 

​

Why hadn’t one of those guys asked me to skate—or both of them? I wasn’t bad-looking. My skin had cleared up and I wasn’t as scrawny as I’d been as a teenager. My eyes were big, brown, and only slightly crossed. My hair was a decent shade of brown. Maybe guys would pay more attention to me if I was with a girlfriend. 

​

In the crowd ahead, a short girl zipped around and between the other skaters, disappearing and reappearing like a rabbit in a magic trick. She wore a Simon Fraser University crest on her jacket. Summoning all my courage, I detoured past a lanky couple skating with their arms around each other, dodged a few other skaters, and caught up with the girl. “Excuse me. I saw your crest. How do you like SFU?” 

​

She smiled, the braces on her teeth flashing. “It’s great.” 

​

“So you’d recommend it? I’m at the University of British Columbia but I’m thinking of transferring.”

 

“You won’t be sorry. SFU’s a groovy place, fresh and forward-thinking.” She glanced at her watch. “Excuse me. I’ve got to go and meet my friends at the lodge.” 

​

“Sure.” My heart sagging with disappointment, I watched her hurry away. I felt like escaping to my bed in the lodge, eating a bag of caramel creams, and sleeping until lunchtime or whenever. 

​

No, that would be cowardly and uncool, the sort of thing my mother would do. 

​

What would Aunt Frieda say? Never despair, Susie. Nil desperandum. 

​

Okay, Aunt Frieda, I’ll keep trying. But I need a break first. 

​

I left the oval, skated around a bunch of kids playing ice baseball, and headed for the island farther up the lake. The ice wasn’t Zamboni-smooth up that way but I was relieved to get away from the crowd. 

​

As I approached the south end of the island, a Canada jay whistled from a birch tree. I gave an answering whistle, then skated around the eastern edge of the island. I was passing the snow-covered beach when a red fox emerged from a clump of willows. The animal stared at me, its eyes bright, one black foot raised. A second later, it streaked away, a flash of red on white. Beautiful. 

​

Feeling more cheerful, I turned and headed back toward the oval. As I passed the benches on shore, a foghorn voice called, “Hey, Red Hat.” 

​

Surprised, I pivoted on my blades and slid to a stop a few feet from Ervino Sousa, a beak-nosed guy I took chemistry with at university. He leaned against a bench made out of a car seat. 

​

Ervino jerked his thumb toward a sturdy-looking fellow who sat on the bench lacing his skates. “Somebody here wants to meet you.” 

​

Distrust nibbled at my insides. Were they making fun of me? 

​

“Can you come closer?” Ervino called. “I lost track of your name. Sorry.” 

​

“It’s Susie.” I coasted toward him. 

​

The guy on the bench tied his skate laces, his hands big and square. As he raised his head to adjust his scarf, I noticed he had a firmer jawline than Ervino’s and a more settled-looking face. His cheeks were round as apples, his eyes almost as blue as his jacket. 

​

“This is my friend Simon,” Ervino said. “From Sage City.” Ervino jerked his head toward me. “Simon, meet Susie from Vancouver.” 

​

I gulped. “I’m pleased to meet you, Simon.” 

​

“Susie. That’s a nice name,” Simon said in a voice as smooth as honey. As he wobbled onto the ice, he gave me a slow smile that seemed to come from some sunny place the outside world could never touch. He offered me a grey-mittened hand. “Would you like to skate?” 

​

I shrugged. “Why not?” I didn’t want to seem too eager but in my mind I was shouting Thank you, God. Thank you, Ervino. 

​

Simon clutched my hand, his grip like warm steel through his mitten. His touch had a homecoming feel mixed with an electrical sensation that scrambled my nerves. Nice but scary. 

​

Ervino gave us a jaunty wave. “Have fun, guys.” 

​

As Simon and I headed toward the oval, he kept his gaze fixed on his feet. Left foot, stagger, right foot, left foot, skid, right foot. I propped him up, trying to anticipate his moves and keep him from falling. I felt sorry for him though I was kind of glad he was awkward. It meant he needed me. 

​

“Shall we head up to the island?” I asked, thinking we’d do better with more space around us. 

​

“We could try but I’m not skating too well, as you may have noticed.” 

​

I didn’t know what to say. Simon was a horrible skater. It was brave of him to even venture onto the ice, let alone ask anyone to skate with him. 

​

“These aren’t my skates,” he added as I steered us toward the island. “They’re Ervino’s. I borrowed them.” 

​

“Don’t you have skates of your own?” 

​

“They’re at home.” 

​

“Why didn’t you bring them?” 

​

“I didn’t come here to skate,” Simon said. “I came to pick up some veterinary supplies. Ervino brought them from Vancouver for me. His parents own an animal supply company.” 

​

“Are you a veterinarian?” 

​

“No, my brother is. I work in his clinic.” 

​

“That must be interesting.” 

​

“It is.” 

​

I guided Simon around a clump of cattails frozen into the ice. “I think those skates are too big for you. That’s probably why you’re having trouble.” 

“Probably.” Simon watched his feet for a few moments, then risked a glance at me. “What else do you study at university, besides chemistry with Ervino?” 

​

“Botany, toxicology, therapeutics, and Russian. I want to be a pharmacist.” 

​

No, maybe that sounded too boastful. “Or a pharmacy technician.” 

​

“You could help a lot of people that way.” 

​

“Yes, and I think I’d enjoy it.” My mother’s pill addiction had sparked my interest but I didn’t bother mentioning that to Simon. 

​

“What does the Russian language have to do with pharmacy?” 

​

“Nothing in particular,” I said, guiding him over a rough patch in the ice. “But we’re supposed to take one foreign language. I chose Russian.” 

​

His eyebrows quirked up. “Are you Russian?” 

​

“No.” I paused. “It’s complicated. My grandparents are Mennonites. They came from Russia but they have Dutch, German, and Polish roots.” 

​

“Something like my ancestors,” Simon said. 

​

“What?” I almost dropped his hand. “Don’t tell me you’re a Mennonite too.” There were tons of them in the Fraser Valley but I wasn’t sure about the rest of the province. 

​

“My last name is Epp,” Simon said. “Some of my relatives’ names are Wiebe, Sawatzky, and Unrau. What does that tell you?” 

​

“Enough,” I replied with a laugh. “Is there a Mennonite church in Sage City?”

 

“Yes, we have a small church,” Simon said. “I lead the choir.” 

​

“So you must be a good singer.” 

​

He shrugged. “People seem to think so.” 

​

As we neared the island, a raven croaked from a spruce tree. Another raven answered, farther inland. “I saw a fox up here earlier,” I said. 

​

“Where?” 

​

“Around the bend, on the beach. Red fox.” 

​

We stumble-skated around the eastern edge of the island. As we slowed to a stop alongside the beach, Simon peered down into the snow. “Those are probably your fox’s pawprints.” He pointed. “See the four toes with the triangular lobe behind?” 

​

I nodded. “Looks like the fox couldn’t decide which way to go.” Its prints veered to the right, then left and back again. 

​

Simon shook his head. “It was probably listening for mice. See over there?” He raised his free arm, swaying on his skates. “You can see where it reared onto its hind legs, jumped, and dived headfirst into a snowbank.” 

​

“Mice are under the snow?” 

​

“That’s where they live in winter, in snow burrows.” 

​

I was impressed. “How do you know?” 

​

Simon shrugged. “I’m interested in animals, wild and tame.” He glanced at his watch. “I should leave soon. My brother’s expecting me.” 

​

A cold hand squeezed my heart. This dreamy guy in a blue jacket with matching eyes had asked me to skate, just like that. Now he was going to disappear, just like that. “It’s almost lunchtime,” I said in a small voice. “They’re having a wiener roast.” 

​

“I’d love to stay and eat but I need to get back to the clinic.” 

​

Was that true or just an excuse to get away from me? “Could you phone your brother and tell him you’ll be late?” 

​

“No, sorry. Saturdays are our busiest days.” 

​

I almost drowned in a wave of disappointment. 

In gloomy silence we retraced our route around the eastern edge of the island. The wind tossed bits of ice into our faces. My nose started running. 

As I dug a tissue out of my pocket, Simon said, “It’s a pity Mennonites don’t dance. I’d make a better dancer than a skater.” He glanced at his feet. “Wearing these things anyway.” 

​

I wiped my nose. “Why are you even trying to skate?” 

​

“I saw a cute girl in a red hat, and I wanted to meet her.” 

​

My heart did a backflip. Maybe there was hope after all. “You could have waited until I came to shore.” 

​

“I waited half an hour but you didn’t show any sign of quitting. When Ervino said he knew you, I borrowed his skates and got him to introduce us.” Simon squeezed my hand. “I’d like to keep in touch with you, Susie. How about writing me a letter when you get home?” 

​

My heart stood on its hind legs like the fox, its ears twitching with hope. “I might do that,” I said, trying not to sound too keen. “What’s your address?”

​

“I’ll give it to you as soon as I get these blessed skates off.”