Taking Risks Read online

  Annabel goes to the counter and no one is waiting, so she gets to put her order in right away. She's back at her table with Bettie and two chai lattes quite quickly. Bettie smiles and thanks her for her drink, adding a little sugar. Annabel skips the sugar, still haunted by the posters in her dentist's office when she was in for her checkup last week.

  "So I have a video of what I need to learn. Jane sent it to me." Annabel gets her cell phone out of her bag, finds the right video, and hands it over to Bettie.

  Bettie watches the video intently. While she watches, a small wrinkle appears on her forehead, and Annabel is overcome with the urge to kiss Bettie's furrowed brow, but she holds back and hope the urge isn't plain to see in her face.

  "Is it complicated to learn?" Annabel asks.

  Bettie hands her phone back. "Depends how bad you are at skating. Most people I could teach this routine in about seven lessons."

  "I wasn't awful at it as a kid. I could do the basics, but I have no confidence on ice, and I need to look graceful, not have shaking knees and look like Bambi his first time in ice." Annabel sighs.

  "How about we aim for ten lessons. I could fit in three a week without much trouble. Will that be quick enough?" Bettie asks.

  "That would be perfect," Annabel nods.

  Bettie blows on her chai latte. "How about Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for skating lessons, and Thursday for knitting lessons? Seeing as we have the knitting circle Sunday already,"

  Annabel realizes that will mean she will be seeing Bettie five out of seven days each week, and she isn't sure her poor crush will be able to handle it. "Sounds great," she says weakly.

  Annabel quickly takes a sip of her drink, hoping Bettie won't notice how croaky her voice sounded. She has it so bad for Bettie. She stands out in this small town: built muscular body, all strong long limbs, purple pixie cut hair, and several piercings. She looks like she should be an intimidating presence, but she's so warm and friendly.

  "I'll turn you into a pro skater in no time," Bettie says, tapping her mug against Annabel's in a mock toast.

  "I don't need to be as good as you or even near that level. I just need to get through this wedding and not pee my pants out of fear," Annabel says honestly.

  Bettie laughs, and she has such a warm, inviting laugh, it makes Annabel feel like joining in, not like she's being mocked.

  "I'd like to make a new blanket. It's so cold here," Bettie complains.

  Annabel takes her turn to laugh. "It gets a lot colder, and I can help you. Between us we'll have it made in no time."

  "I know, and I like the cold, just not when I'm sleeping." Bettie pouts.

  "I get that. We'll have you toasty and warm at night by the time I'm skating." Annabel smiles.

  They sit and talk over what they'll do in their lessons and share a bit of gossip from the knitting circle. It's nice, and Annabel is pretty sure she doesn't embarrass herself even a little bit, which makes it better. Annabel had thought revealing she couldn't skate would be humiliating, as it often has been, but Bettie seems to respect her phobia of the ice and falling. And even better, Bettie is willing to help her.

  They part ways, and Annabel spends her evening working on some designs for her herbalists store, but her arm is hurting Sunday, and she knows she'll need to rest it, so spends her days watching movies with her nibblings and trying not to think about her lesson on Monday, or how when she said goodbye to Bettie at the coffee shop, they'd hugged briefly and it had made Annabel's stomach feel like butterflies had been trying to escape. They text to set up a time and come Monday night, Annabel is outside the skating arena at the time they agreed.

  Bettie comes out from the complex with a wide smile on her face. "Come on, let's go get our skates on!"

  Bettie seems happy, so Annabel tries to smile back, but nerves have built up in her, and she is feeling sick with terror. They go inside and make it to the rink side, and Bettie has skates waiting. Annabel sits down, trying to slow her breathing as she takes off her boots.

  Her hands are shaking noticeably when she starts lacing herself into the skate, it has been years since she has put her foot in an ice skate. Since her fall she's not been this close to a rink, and when she does get too close to one, she usually has a panic attack. Annabel is trying to fight that now.

  "Hey, are you okay?" Bettie asks, sounding concerned, her hand gentle on Annabel's arm.

  "Yes, yeah, fine, why?" Annabel says, trying to bluff that she's okay.

  "I called your name twice, and you've been trying to get the laces perfect on your skates for a long time. You don't have to be brave—hell you've already been brave just by saying yes to the wedding and coming here. But you have a phobia. That will probably take time to get past," Bettie says in a calm voice.

  "I don't have time, not enough for this. I'm freaking out before I even get on the ice." Annabel groans.

  "Would watching me for a bit first help? Seeing it's safe might calm your mind," Bettie suggests.

  "Maybe. Let's try that." Annabel feels relief at the idea of not having to get straight on the ice.

  Bettie opens the door to the ice and in seconds is gliding. Annabel can't help fearing for Bettie's safety, but she looks so effortless on the ice, it doesn't seem so dangerous. In the past, even watching the Winter Olympics skaters in TV has made Annabel feel a little sick, but she has had therapy since then, and she uses some of the mindfulness meditation techniques she's been taught while she watches Bettie perform the routine she needs to learn over and over, and something about the repetitive movements and the sound of Bettie's skates on the ice finally seems to calm Annabel down.

  Annabel waves Bettie over. "I think I'm ready to try and get on the ice."

  "Cool. I'm going to hold your hands and we'll stay together. I won't let you fall. You said one of your legs is a bit weaker. Can I ask which one?" Bettie says as Annabel comes over to the entrance to the rink.

  "My right leg. If I go for a run, I'm limping by the end of it, but it doesn't bother me walking too much, so not sure how it'll be with skating. Not been on the ice since I broke it," Annabel explains.

  Bettie looks thoughtful. "I know you're right dominant but try to lead with your stronger left leg when you push off. Do you remember the basics?"

  Annabel takes Bettie's gloved hands in her own, and with her stomach doing flips, she puts her left foot on the ice as advised, it feels wrong to lead with her left, but that leg is stronger and doesn't wobble the way she had feared.

  "I remember. I wasn't too bad before my accident." Annabel puts her second skate on the ice, trying to keep her breathing even. A panic attack on the ice is the last thing she needs. Bettie has been great, but Annabel isn't sure she's ready to be that vulnerable in front of Bettie yet. The only people who have seen her when she's had panic attacks are her mom and her therapist.

  Bettie holds her hands tightly and instructs Annabel to follow her lead. Bettie has a harder job, skating backward, but she makes the first steps look effortless.

  "Today we're just going to skate straight lines and practice stopping, nothing fancy. The twists and turns can come later. I know I'm asking a lot, but you need to trust me for this. It'll go so much easier if you do."

  Bettie doesn't go fast. She very slowly skates backward, her movements smooth. Annabel follows, though not quite as smoothly. It's been years since she did this, and she once enjoyed it, but her stomach is still in knots.

  "I can do that," Annabel says in a shakier voice.

  "We can do this." Bettie smiles, and it makes Annabel's heart feel strange to hear Bettie refer to them as a we, even though she doesn't mean it romantically.

  "I'm so scared I'll fall," Annabel admits.

  Bettie looks torn. "Okay, so honestly you might, but most falls are not all that bad. Someone falls in my classes every day. Most often it's bruises and a few tears. I've never had a kid break a bone, and I've been teaching people since I was a teen myself. You got really unlucky—that won't happen again."<
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  "You sound so sure," Annabel says as they slowly make their way across the ice.

  Bettie smiles. "I am. You're my student now, and I take care of mine. Not to sound creepy or possessive. You're totally your own person and that is awesome." Bettie is actually blushing.

  "It's okay. I didn't think you were going cave woman on me over a few lessons," Annabel assures her.

  "Sorry, I guess I'm a bit hyper aware of that stuff. I had an ex who was fond of telling me I was theirs, and they did mean it cave woman style. There is a line between sexy 'I'm yours and you're mine' and someone being too possessive," Bettie says softly. It is the first time Bettie has mentioned any relationship, let alone a bad one or one with a woman.

  "Don't be sorry. It's good to be aware, and if you ever need to talk about your ex, you can talk to me, or I have the number for my therapist's practice. Three therapists work there, and all are queer friendly and not bigoted about gender or anything—good people," Annabel offers as they get near to the other end of the skate rink.

  "Thank you, that's lovely. I was seeing a therapist before I moved here, but I should get a new one I can see in person. At the moment, if I have issues, I try to do a phone session with my therapist back in Maine. Right. We're going to stop, turn, and start again." Bettie carefully explains how they're going to do that, and memory kicks in and Annabel is able to do what Bettie says relatively easily.

  "This is going better than I thought it would. Like I still feel like I might throw up on our feet at any second and be so embarrassed I'd have to move to the wilderness and never have contact with any humans ever again, but no falls!" Annabel says brightly.

  Bettie laughs. "You're doing great. I'd appreciate not being puked on. The kids in my class have done that, so no need to run away if you do. As a toddler, my nibbling Sarah once puked into my open mouth, so shoes I can handle."

  Annabel shudders. "Oh my god, really?"

  "My sister thought it was hilarious. I brushed my teeth and rinsed with mouthwash about ten times that day. I still feel queasy thinking about it."

  Annabel smiles. "Not laughing at you, just relived that maybe it'll be harder for me to drive you away than I thought."

  Bettie shakes her head. "You're cool as shit. Why would you drive me away? You've been so welcoming since I moved to town and joined the knitting circle."

  "Everyone in town and the circle love you. It's easy to welcome you, and I don't feel cool. I feel like a dork. Half the time I feel like I'm still the kid in high school who didn't have a date to prom," Annabel admits.

  Bettie looks shocked. "You didn't have a date to prom?"

  "No, it was okay. I went with a group of friends and had a great time, but you know stuff like that and being picked last for teams always sticks with you. Did you go to prom?" Annabel asks, curious.

  Bettie grins. "I was a rebel. My date and I ditched prom and went to a gay bar with fake IDs."

  Annabel laughs. "You're way too cool. You'd never have been my friend in high school. I was a total shy nerd"

  "I would have been. I'd have delighted in corrupting you. Now come on. Focus. Three more times around the rink and we'll take a break." Bettie grins.

  Annabel feels something like fireworks in her blood at the thought of Bettie corrupting her. The sparks heat her skin from the inside, but she just nods and focuses on skating.

  *~*~*

  Wednesday evening they skate again, and then Thursday rolls around and Annabel finds herself feeling nervous all day because after dinner she has a knitting date with Bettie at Bettie's house at the edge of town.

  The day drags, and Annabel is eager to spend time with Bettie again, even though she has spent the last two days with her, her small crush have been growing with every minute spent in Bettie's company. It gets to seven finally, and Annabel is on Bettie's door step ringing the bell to be let in.

  Bettie answers the door smiling. She's wearing a big over-sized purple sweater that Annabel made and sold to her in the store. She's paired it with black wool leggings and fluffy socks. Her hair is pinned up in a messy style, and she has a smear of flour on one cheek. She looks so beautiful, Annabel feels her heart squeeze right in her chest and her smile turn from nervous to goofy.

  "Hi! So good to see you. I've been on Pinterest looking up knits and have a few to show you. There is so much I want to make. Hopefully you can help me." Bettie sounds so excited, and it makes Annabel feel warm. She really loves spending time with Bettie.

  Annabel smiles. "Been baking too?"

  "Yeah, how'd you guess? I wore an apron." Bettie looks down at her clothes as she steps aside to let Annabel in to her home.

  "You missed a spot," Annabel says, shutting the door behind her and trying not to flush at being so close to Bettie in the small hallway.

  Bettie frowns and it just looks cute. "Can you get it for me?"

  Annabel bites her tongue, so she doesn't let out an over eager response. "Ah, sure."

  Annabel gently places her thumb in the warm skin of Bettie's cheek, and using as much care as she would with her nibbling, Sarah, she brushes away the fine powder. "Got it," Annabel says, dropping her hand, not wanting to be a creep and stroke Bettie's face longer than she needs to.

  Bettie's smile is radiant. "Thank you, and I don't have a secret cocaine habit. I baked scones. I thought we might like a snack."

  Annabel can't help laughing at Bettie worrying Annabel would think that. Annabel has no issue with anyone using drugs as long as they don't hurt anyone and do it responsibly, but Bettie is a small town teacher. She's just not the type to be doing a party drug alone in her house before she plans to knit, though Annabel guesses it might make you knit faster.

  "Scones sound lovely, thank you. I have a bunch of wool and everything we might need," Annabel says, patting her knitting bag with her unbraced hand, which has a pair of kittens playing with a ball of wool on it that her mother gave her. Her mother might run the clothing store, but she doesn't get knitting. She's a seamstress and likes more delicate materials than wool, but she supports Annabel's love for knitting, always has.

  "Great, come through. I thought we could knit in my living room. I've got a fire going, and it's the warmest room in the house," Bettie offers, leading the way, and Annabel nods as she follows. She has been to Bettie's home before, since everyone in their knitting circle take turns hosting.

  They settle in a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the fire. Bettie has everything ready, including wine and glasses and her tablet to show the patterns.

  "Will your leg be okay on the floor? And you do drink white wine, right? I was sure I saw you drink it before, but I don't want to assume," Bettie says, showing more concern for Annabel's comfort and needs than some friends do—or some dates, and oh God how she wishes this were a date.

  "My leg should be fine, thanks. It's more if I stand too long or bear weight too long, and I do drink white wine. Is that a pino? I love that. Oh and just to explain the wrist brace, I wear it sometimes if I'm going to be using my arm a lot and between work and this, I thought I'd be careful," Annabel explains.

  Bettie looks concerned. "This extra knitting won't hurt you, will it?"

  Annabel waves away her concern. "I knit for fun, for work, every Sunday with the circle—this is just a precaution. I swear, I know my limits."

  "Sorry, I hope I don't come over like a mother hen. You're a grown woman. You don't need me parenting you. I just worry. I'd hate for you to be in pain because you helped me," Bettie says softly.

  "No apology needed. You're firmly in the level of pleasant concern for me, not overbearing and treating me like a child," Annabel assures.

  "Good," Bettie sounds relived.

  Annabel smiles. "I'll take a glass of wine and a look at what you want to work on to start, if that's okay."

  Bettie agrees and pours two glasses of wine and grabs her tablet.

  "Now don't laugh." Bettie sighs.

  "Why would I laugh?" Annabel asks, tak
ing a sip of the crisp wine before setting her glass down.

  "Some people would. I want to make a mermaid tail blanket, the style with knitted scales," Bettie looks warily as she shows Annabel a few pictures of what she means, and Annabel hates that she expects to be laughed at for this, for having fun, for liking something whimsical.

  "I love it. We can definitely do this—simple enough knit. Do you know what will colours you want to use?" Annabel asks.

  Bettie looks happy. "You really like it? You don't think it's silly?"

  "I've wanted to make one for ages, and nothing we like is silly, and if it is, who cares. I hate the attitude that you leave high school and college or enter a certain age and just leave fun things behind. And I think it'd be cosy to wear on the couch while watching TV, reading, or knitting!" Annabel has spent time trying to fit in. In middle school she tried to change everything about herself, and she was miserable. It's taken time, a lot of it, but Annabel feels she's at a place where she's done being anyone other than herself.

  "I was thinking purple and blue," Bettie says shyly, pulling some balls out of a bag near them.

  Annabel grins. "I love those shades. Let's get started,"

  Bettie relaxes and becomes more confident again as they start planning and begin the project, and they chat as they work. Two glasses of wine and one and a half scones later, Annabel is feeling a little sleepy, her hand is cramping, and they have a decent start between them.

  "We're friends, right?" Bettie says out of the blue as they pack up for the night.

  "Yes, if course we are." Annabel hopes they are anyway. She might have romantic feelings for Bettie, but it wouldn't feel any less special to have her friendship. That kind of relationship has value to Annabel too.

  "I have a secret, and I feel like after you trusted me with your phobia, I should tell you." Bettie bites her lip.

  "You don't owe me anything because I shared something with you. Of course I'm curious, but I don't want you to ever feel pressured or like you owe me. We're friends. You don't do that with real friends," Annabel says firmly.