Chasing Rainbows A Novel - By Long, Kathleen Page 0,65

Ashley on the freezing cold vinyl seat.

Terrified didn’t come close. I was petrified.

“Isn’t this easy?” Ashley screamed as she maneuvered the machine around the ice, following a precise pattern as the overhead sound system played Muzak.

“Piece of cake,” I answered, lying through my teeth.

“You want to steer?” she asked.

I dramatically shook my head no, but I was too late. Ashley let go of...everything...and climbed onto the seat.

We were at center ice, headed straight for one of the team benches. The cave man mascot stood staring down the machine as the Zamboni lumbered closer and closer. He planted his fists on his fur-covered hips and furrowed his perfect brows.

I should have known Ashley had ulterior motives.

She widened her stance, solidifying her balance.

I reminded myself to remember her technique the next time I jumped on a chair to assert myself.

I frantically scanned the controls, working to bring the death machine to a stop, while Ashley went into action.

“Hey, asshole,” she hollered at the precise moment there was a lull in the Muzak.

An audible gasp filtered through the rink. The cave man straightened, apparently well aware he was the asshole in question. I cringed as Ashley proudly gave him the finger, for the entire rink to see.

“Here’s what I think of you and your eyebrows. Matter of fact, you and your eyebrows can kiss my--”

I leaned on the Zamboni’s horn, drowning out Ashley’s final thought. She dropped back onto the seat next to me, pride shining in her every feature.

At that particular moment, I was aware of three things.

One, I was a natural at operating the death machine.

Two, Ashley had apparently overcome stuffing her feelings.

And three, Diane and David were going to strangle me with their bare hands.

o0o

“It’s funny,” Diane said, biting back a grin as I walked into her hospital room the next morning, “I always thought I’d be the one to teach my daughter to give someone the finger.”

I winced.

“You know, I realized I wasn’t even mad she made an obscene gesture in front of the entire rink,” Diane continued.

“No?” I dropped my purse to the floor and leaned down to kiss her forehead. I couldn’t help noticing her overnight bag was packed and ready to go.

Diane shook her head. “I was mad I missed it.”

I squinted, not sure where to go with my side of the conversation.

The corners of Diane’s eyes grew a bit sad. “If anyone should be encouraging her to make vulgar hand gestures, it should be me.”

When my brow arched this time, it worked. Call it shock. Call it what you will, but Diane’s words had snapped my left brow to attention.

“I’ve neglected her. I can’t let my entire world revolve around this baby.” She lovingly rubbed her baby bump. “I need to get Ashley back.”

Her gaze lifted to mine, tears pooling along the rim of her lower lashes.

“You never lost her,” I said softly, shaking my head. “Not for a second.”

Diane sniffed. Loudly. “You sure?”

Was I sure? “Absolutely. You’re her mom. No one’s ever going to change that. Not even some out-of-control Aunt Bernie teaching her to express herself.”

“I got a little out of control with the purse thing,” she said, squishing up her features.

I shrugged. “Blame it on the hormones.”

A knock sounded at the door and I tensed, imagining Dr. Platt popping in to make one last visit. Instead, a brilliant smile lit Diane’s face. I turned to see David and Ashley walking through the door.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Diane asked, though the joy painted across her features made it clear she was delighted Ashley was here.

“We wanted to bring you something first.” A sheepish grin slid across David’s face--a look I hadn’t seen since the night he and Diane met. I could still remember each of their expressions. I can also remember thinking this is it. And it was.

Ashley handed Diane a large box.

“For me?” But Diane had already begun attacking the ribbon and paper even as she asked the question.

The paper fell away and she hoisted the lid from the box, reaching inside to pull out a bag. She gasped, moisture shining in her sparkling eyes.

In her hands, she held a fabulously stylish diaper bag, suede with an embroidered heart and the word love spelled out in rhinestones.

Some might call the bag gaudy or over-the-top. I thought it one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.

“Dad picked it out,” Ashley said, her voice softer than I’d heard it in thirteen years. “By himself.”

The tears glistening in Diane’s eyes trailed wet paths