Cinderella in Skates

chapter NINETEEN





I'm out on the back porch with my book later that night. It's a cold January night but the fire and blankets are keeping me warm, and it's the only place I want to be to get away from it all for awhile.

I'm almost done with Wuthering Heights and I plan to finish it tonight if I can just get my mind to stop working overtime.

But for some reason, my mom's words won't get out of my head.

Shane had been there tonight.

But why?

What does it mean?

And what do I want it to mean?

I miss him, there's no doubt about it. But what good will that do me at this point?

He's gone.

He could've come back if he wanted to, but he hasn't.

I can get out of here in a few more months. The hockey season will tide me over until then.

And then I'll have another fresh start in my favorite place in the world.

I crack open the book and start reading where I left off, ready to lose myself in a new world and a different love story. A real one.

A far cry from how it was the last time I took this book out here.

I'm tangled up in the words when I hear a twig snap in our side yard. I glance up and wait, ready to bolt into the house.

And then I see him, and my heart's already slamming against my chest. He still has the ability to rattle me even after crushing me.

Shane steps out of the shadows and walks over to the deck.

"I saw your fireplace going from my house," he says simply. "I thought it might be you."

I just look at him.

"So, hi," he goes on. "I caught your game today."

"Yeah," I finally say. "My mom mentioned she saw you there."

He nods. "Can I sit down?"

"Um. If you want."

Shane carefully sits on the edge of the couch he sat in the last time he was up here with me and I wonder if he remembers it like I do, as the first night I realized how much I might actually like him.

I wait for him to say his piece, to tell me why he's here tonight.

"Okay," he says. "This is weird."

"Ya think?"

"Natalie, I'm sorry." His voice sounds like he means it, but I can't look into his eyes. I won't. "You have to listen to me. I'm back."

I laugh bitterly. "You wouldn't have to be back if you hadn't left."

"Come on, please don't be like that."

My eyes almost bug out of my head. "Don't you dare try and turn this around on me, Shane. No way. I didn't run."

"You tried to."

"I -- what?"

"To Arizona," he says. "You were running back there."

I shake my head. "That isn't fair. I planned to do that before I even knew who you were. And you knew that was what I wanted."

He sighs. "I know, but I guess I always thought you'd change your mind once you got to know me."

"Thinking about moving back got harder every day."

He looks up at me, a surprised look etched on his face. "What?"

"Who knows how it would've played out if none of this happened?"

"What are you trying to say, Natalie?"

"I'm not trying to say anything. I'm just telling you the truth."

"And what is that?"

"I liked you a lot, Shane," I say, looking him right in the eyes. "The more time I spent with you, the harder it got for me to be completely excited about going back home. But it's the only place I've ever really known. If I was gonna stay here, I'd want to be pretty damn sure that it was the right move. I wasn't going to make that decision lightly."

"So you're saying you'll stay for me?"

I laugh. "No. No way. I'm saying I would've thought about staying for you. Before all of this happened, anyway."

"Let me fix this."

"Fix what?"

"Us," he says, matching my gaze so intensely that I have to look away.

"I don't know if you can."

"I know," he replies. "We have a really good thing here, Nat."

"You don't have to tell me that. I'm not the one who walked away from it."

"You're really okay with it if I leave now and don't look back?" he asks.

I'm not, but I can't tell him that. "You did it before."

"That isn't what I asked."

"Do what you have to do, Shane."

"You're not making that easy for me," he says. "Look, will you at least walk me back to my parents' house? I have something for you."

"What is it?"

"It's really nothing. I saw it in the campus bookstore and thought of you."

I look at him for a few seconds. "Fine," I say at last, tossing my book aside and standing up. "But only for a minute."

He nods. "That's all I need."

I walk down the steps of the deck and toward his house with another word. He follows, always just behind me the entire way, until we get to his front porch and he jogs up the stairs to let me in.

His mom walks past the front door with a basket of laundry crooked under her elbow.

"Nice to see you again, Natalie," she says, a warm smile on her face. I try not to frown; it's such a different reaction from the last time I saw her.

"Yeah, you too."

"Give me your coat," Shane says. "I'll hang it up."

"I don't think I'll be here that long."

"It's hot downstairs," he insists, and I sigh and shrug out of my jacket before I follow him down the steps and into the Stanford's finished basement.

"What do you think?" he asks, stepping aside so I can get a better look.

I glance up before I've gotten all the way down the stairs and I stumble when I see what's waiting in front of me.

Shane reaches out and grabs me by the arm, and my skin grows warm where his fingers touch it, and for a second I don't want to pull away, but I do.

"What is this?"

"I know it isn't home," he says. "But it's the best I could do."

I hate that I feel tears prickling at the corner of my eyes. But here in this basement, Shane's done something no one's ever done for me before.

All of the furniture has been pushed back against the walls except for a dinner table in the middle of the basement floor.

Blown-up plastic cacti hang from the ceiling and rest along the floor. He's taped giant posters of the Grand Canyon and Phoenix skyline and Camelback Mountain to the walls. Western guitar music plays softly in the background. He's got Kokopelli-themed plates and cups and napkins on the table.

It's not exactly home but it doesn't feel wrong.

"You did this?" I ask, afraid to look at him because I'm pretty sure I might start crying.

He nods. "Sorry if you don't like it."

"Shane, it's -- it's incredible. I don't know what to say."

"I just thought you might want to feel like you're in Arizona for a change. And maybe see that home can be wherever you want it." He glances down at his hands. "Are you hungry? I made dinner."

I step into the basement and turn around, taking it all in. "You cooked?"

"Yeah, I couldn't really figure out what Arizona's signature food was," he says. "So I might've gone with a barbecue bacon burger with cheddar cheese and grilled onions instead."

I look up at him and break out into a smile. "You didn't."

"It's your favorite."

"This is what you found for me at the campus bookstore?"

He walks over to the table and picks up a wrapped box. "No, this is."

"What is it?"

"Open it and find out."

I carefully peel back the wrapping paper and pull out a brand new copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

"I don't know if you've read it before," he says. "Or if you even remember. But look inside."

I crack the cover and on the very first blank page, he's written me a message:



Nat-- This made me think of you because you make me think of Elizabeth Benet: beautiful, smart and funny, and always keeping me on my toes. I know Lizzy and Sherlock Holmes never met, but I think they'd be pretty great together. Tu me manques. -- Shane



I'm already blinking back tears and swallowing a lump in my throat by the time I get to the French part.

"The French," I say. "What does that mean?"

"'I miss you'," he tells me. "Do you remember that night?"

I nod, thinking back to the evening where he'd laughed at me for telling him about my book boyfriend Sherlock Holmes and spoke to me in French. "I do."

"Good," he says.

"But, Shane, I don't get it. You left. What's the point? What do you want?"

He walks over and circles his arms around my waist. I want to reach out and grab his arms, but I need to hear him say it first.

"You," he says. "I just want you. I freaked out at the idea of you going to Arizona so I walked away to make it easier on myself. But it was worse not having you around, even if you leave later. Whatever we are, I don't want to lose it before I have to."

I look up into his eyes and I know he's telling the truth because I've felt just as scared about walking away from him as he was about me doing it.

And as I stand there smiling at him, he leans down to kiss me, and I realize that where I'm standing now is the only place I want to be.