Black Ice

Chapter Fourteen

"Until we have seen someone's darkness, we don't really know who they are. Until we have forgiven someone's darkness, we don't really know what love is." 

~Marianne Williamson 

*****

"Did you kiss him?" 

The blueberry smoothie that I've been gently sipping for the last five minute comes spewing out of my mouth, splattering the sidewalk. "Excuse me?" 

Bethany jerks her hand from my grasp and steps away from the blue, chunky splash. "Yuck! I only asked if you kissed him!" 

"Why would - why do you - I -" I stumble over my words. "Does - does it matter?" 

"Of course it does. I want to make sure you're not becoming a loose woman." 

I stare at her. "Loose woman?" My eyes narrow. "What shows have you been watching?"  

"I didn't hear that from a show," She informs me seriously, "I heard it from Mum. She was telling Daddy about Ms. Barrow - you know, the one who likes to wear rabbits as coats? She told him that Ms. Barrow is far too..." Bethany's eye narrowed at the pronunciation of the next word, "Liberal with her affections, and that she'd better watch herself because she's quickly turning into a loose - " 

"I get the picture," I cut her off, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Only my little sister would walk around parroting phrases like loose woman. "And no, I didn't kiss him, not that it's any of your business." 

Bethany nods, approving. "Good. I need to know these things. I don't want some guy getting fresh with you." 

"Getting fresh?" I repeat, and I can't withhold the laugh bubbling up on my lips. At the end of the day, it's worth it spending time with Bethany just to get to hear all the ridiculous things that come out of her mouth. "Did you hear that from Mum, too?" 

"Actually, that one I did hear from a show," She admits sheepishly, playing the straw on her strawberry smoothie and slipping her hand back into mine. "What does it mean?"

"Ahh...nothing," I say slowly. "Just know that you don't have to worry about Carter getting fresh with me. I'm no loose woman." 

She grins toothily, which only serves to amuse me further. Bethany clearly has no idea what I mean, but it's sweet that she's already taking an interest in my relationships. Still, I'd like to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters. "Do you like your smoothie?" 

She nods. "Frank makes the very best smoothies." 

"True." Frank's smoothie shop, not far from the Fro-Yo store where Carter works, is a hotspot for yoga moms all over the city. "Where do you want to go now?" 

She raises a mischievous eyebrow in a way that reminds me distinctly of Mum, caught with a candy bar after her daily workout. "Aly, you know where." 

And I do. 

Much as Carter and I have the pier as our special spot, Bethany and I have a playground behind the abandoned Elementary School. I found it when I was six and ran away from home. My independence lasted all of four hours, but it was enough time for Mum to go frantic with worry and Dad to actually look up from his work cell phone. I ended up toddling home, but I never forgot the playground. A few years later, when Bethany was old enough, I started taking her there with me, and she loved it. 

Of course, it's abandoned for a reason. The slide is unstable, the merry-go-round is cracked off on one side, and the see-saws are rusted over. But the swings still work, and that's all Bethany needs to have fun.