“My chauvinism and offensive ways or my confession?”
Erika smiled. “My sport. See you later. Bye, baby girl.”
Etsuko cared more about her cartoon and her toy than her mother’s departure.
“See you later, babe.” When Billy touched her face, Erika nearly melted.2
“Quad! That’s four!” Milo’s voice echoed off the walls of the rink.
Tom Alan held Erika in the crook of his elbow as they raced across in front of him. They turned together, and Erika tapped her toe pick into the ice half a second before Tom Alan flung her across it.
“One, two, threeeeee.”
Erika caught Milo’s grimace as she came down on her hip. “Shoot!”
“One more try?” Tom Alan held out his hand as he skidded to a stop beside her. “Nana korobo ya oki.” Fall down seven times, get up eight. It had been another of Nobuo Tsuchino’s favorites.
“I guess.”
“You guess.” Tom Alan swiped the smirk off his face with the hem of his undershirt, tending to an abundance of sweat along with it. “That’s my line.”