her the pattern. “Who will sew the outfits?” she asked.
“Oh, you’d be surprised at the moms who’ll volunteer.”
Livvy nodded slowly, thinking of the many sewing projects she and her mom had shared together over the years.
“Oh, my dear, have I got no heart?” Mrs. Newton was saying. “I’ve gone and lost my head, it seems.” And she asked Livvy to please forgive her. “Such an unthinking person I must be.”
“No, not at all,” Livvy insisted. Here was the perfect time to tell the woman how very kind she had been. Right from the start. “It’s super nice to have someone like you as a friend.”
“Why, thank you, Livvy. I’m proud to call you my friend, too.” There was a glint in her expressive eyes. “I’ve been watching you skate,” she said, her voice growing even more sweet. “During my break, I’ve seen you working out all by yourself.”
“You have?”
“Oh yes, and you’re very good.” Mrs. Newton told her how she liked to stop off and have a cup of coffee at the Oo-La-La Café. “Right across from the rink, that’s where I sip and watch,” the woman said, looking mighty pleased with herself.
Livvy grinned, delighted with the compliment. “Well, thank you. I’m not used to people watching me practice anymore.” She hesitated at first, then found herself pouring out her grief. She talked mostly of her father’s lackof interest. “I don’t think Daddy understands how badly I want to go to the Olympics someday.”
Mrs. Newton patted her hand. “Stick to your dreams, Livvy. You must never give up on yourself.” She chuckled a little. “My goodness, not as talented as you are.”
She was almost afraid the woman would ask if she was going to try out for cheerleading. But they talked about everything but that. And Livvy was relieved.
She hated to say good-bye. But it was time to hit the ice. Today her goal was to push for a forty-minute session. Do or die!
Mrs. Newton’s words of encouragement echoed in her brain, and she grinned to herself. Near the rink, she found a half-occupied bench and began to remove her tennis shoes.
The same grandfatherly man sat at the opposite end, a rolled-up newspaper in his hand. Instead of reading, he was watching several skaters as they practiced their technique.
“Excuse me, do you happen to have the time?” she asked, leaning over.
He glanced at his watch, then grinned at her. “Skate time or otherwise?”
“Otherwise, please.” She didn’t give his clever comment a second thought.
Promptly, he added, “It’s nearly three-thirty.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, young lady.” He unfolded his paper and shook it out. “Please, don’t mind me. You go on and have fun skating.”
She pulled on her white skates and laced up. Livvy could hardly wait to warm up. Skating was like flying—or better. The slick surface beneath her blades made her feel absolutely free. Like escaping from every imaginable problem and pain of her life.
Today she pretended to skate for a packed crowd, filled with hundreds of cheering fans. Soaring across the rink, she practiced some of her best fancy footwork.
Then, when she was ready, she posed at center ice. Waiting as if for the musical cue, she began her short program—the one from her last regional event. She could still hear the music in her head, the dazzling score from Anastasia .
She didn’t have to hum the phrases to remember where her jumps and spins fit in. The thrilling strains filled her, and the performance was smooth and elegant. One of the best practices she’d had since coming to Podunk town.
“I skated my best, Mom,” she whispered as she began cooling down. “I did it.”
In her imagination, the fans were standing, throwing teddy bears onto the ice. Thunderous applause! She could almost see the young skaters darting here and there as they picked up bouquets of flowers. Her flowers! Just the way she hoped it would be someday at the Olympics.
Someday, if
“Oh, you’d be surprised at the moms who’ll volunteer.”
Livvy nodded slowly, thinking of the many sewing projects she and her mom had shared together over the years.
“Oh, my dear, have I got no heart?” Mrs. Newton was saying. “I’ve gone and lost my head, it seems.” And she asked Livvy to please forgive her. “Such an unthinking person I must be.”
“No, not at all,” Livvy insisted. Here was the perfect time to tell the woman how very kind she had been. Right from the start. “It’s super nice to have someone like you as a friend.”
“Why, thank you, Livvy. I’m proud to call you my friend, too.” There was a glint in her expressive eyes. “I’ve been watching you skate,” she said, her voice growing even more sweet. “During my break, I’ve seen you working out all by yourself.”
“You have?”
“Oh yes, and you’re very good.” Mrs. Newton told her how she liked to stop off and have a cup of coffee at the Oo-La-La Café. “Right across from the rink, that’s where I sip and watch,” the woman said, looking mighty pleased with herself.
Livvy grinned, delighted with the compliment. “Well, thank you. I’m not used to people watching me practice anymore.” She hesitated at first, then found herself pouring out her grief. She talked mostly of her father’s lackof interest. “I don’t think Daddy understands how badly I want to go to the Olympics someday.”
Mrs. Newton patted her hand. “Stick to your dreams, Livvy. You must never give up on yourself.” She chuckled a little. “My goodness, not as talented as you are.”
She was almost afraid the woman would ask if she was going to try out for cheerleading. But they talked about everything but that. And Livvy was relieved.
She hated to say good-bye. But it was time to hit the ice. Today her goal was to push for a forty-minute session. Do or die!
Mrs. Newton’s words of encouragement echoed in her brain, and she grinned to herself. Near the rink, she found a half-occupied bench and began to remove her tennis shoes.
The same grandfatherly man sat at the opposite end, a rolled-up newspaper in his hand. Instead of reading, he was watching several skaters as they practiced their technique.
“Excuse me, do you happen to have the time?” she asked, leaning over.
He glanced at his watch, then grinned at her. “Skate time or otherwise?”
“Otherwise, please.” She didn’t give his clever comment a second thought.
Promptly, he added, “It’s nearly three-thirty.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, young lady.” He unfolded his paper and shook it out. “Please, don’t mind me. You go on and have fun skating.”
She pulled on her white skates and laced up. Livvy could hardly wait to warm up. Skating was like flying—or better. The slick surface beneath her blades made her feel absolutely free. Like escaping from every imaginable problem and pain of her life.
Today she pretended to skate for a packed crowd, filled with hundreds of cheering fans. Soaring across the rink, she practiced some of her best fancy footwork.
Then, when she was ready, she posed at center ice. Waiting as if for the musical cue, she began her short program—the one from her last regional event. She could still hear the music in her head, the dazzling score from Anastasia .
She didn’t have to hum the phrases to remember where her jumps and spins fit in. The thrilling strains filled her, and the performance was smooth and elegant. One of the best practices she’d had since coming to Podunk town.
“I skated my best, Mom,” she whispered as she began cooling down. “I did it.”
In her imagination, the fans were standing, throwing teddy bears onto the ice. Thunderous applause! She could almost see the young skaters darting here and there as they picked up bouquets of flowers. Her flowers! Just the way she hoped it would be someday at the Olympics.
Someday, if
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