Gifts (2 page)

Chapter T
hree

Famke settled down in her seat next to
Stephen as the metro train pulled out of the station. Amsterdam had an extensive network of metro trains, cable cars, trams, and buses, which made public transportation convenient.

The day was overcast and the air chilly. She dressed in a warm sweater, peacoat with a scarf, a knitted hat Ingrid had given her, and gloves. Her skates were tucked into her backpack along with her paperwork the coach was required to file with the Skating Federation.

Stephen smiled at her and rubbed his hands together. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did. The bed was very comfy."

"Good. Christmas is in the air and I'd love your help decorating. Maybe we can go out to Enschede and bring in a real tree."

"
Chris' mom lives there, doesn't she?"

"Yes, with her sister. She went there when his father passed."

"Don't you normally have a real tree?"

"
Chris and I alternate decorating our apartments. We use a small artificial tree – nothing fancy."

"Does Papa come over?"

"No, it's best he stay at the care facility. Chris and I usually visit him on Christmas Eve and then we go to his mother's on Christmas."

"How's Papa doing?"

Stephen's expression stilled and grew serious. "It's hard. He has more bad days than good. The nurses report he's losing his mobility. The doctors say he has another four to six months, if that."

Famke's heart constricted. She reached out and squeezed her brother's hand. "I didn't know – and you've been caring for him while I was in America…"

"It's all right, I didn't mind. You needed to go. I'm just glad you're back now."

"So am I."

The metro emerged from an underground tunnel and onto the streets. She checked the overhead maps. Their stop was five stations away. Famke's heart went out to her brother. She had no idea how hard it had been on him. She was grateful he had Chris' support, but then Chris had always been a solid, dependable guy. She admired that trait about him. She offered Stephen a reassuring smile.

"
Chris helped. If anything, I need a woman's touch in my life," said Stephen.

"No, what you need is a girlfriend."

"If only I had the time."

"Then I'll see to it you have more time." She paused. Should she approach the topic of
Chris?

"Did I lose you?" he asked.

She pursed her lips and decided to ask. "Does Chris have a girlfriend?"

"No."

"Oh?"

"He's gone through a lot this past year."

Famke poked her tongue against her cheek, but decided to continue. "He seemed a little sad to me yesterday."

"He had a skating accident last year. He and his partner were training at an outdoor rink and he stumbled on some uneven ice. She was in an overhead lift."

Famke covered her mouth with her hand, surprised to learn this. "That's awful. Was she hurt?"

"No, Katrien was fine, but the way she fell, her blades cut him on the arm and on the side of his face. It took him several months to recover. She left him for a new partner."

"Why?"

"She claimed she couldn't trust him anymore."

Famke nodded her head thoughtfully. Maybe that's why he was still sad. "Is he ready to be on the ice?" Famke frowned as soon as she asked the question.

Stephen
furrowed his brow. "Yes, I believe he is. Skating is his passion. He can't deny it. Look, don't say anything. Chris will bring it up when he's ready." His tone hinted at mild reproach.

Famke nodded and took in a small breath, drawing on her own inner strength. Chris had been there for Stephen
, and now Famke wanted to do the same and be there for Chris, without crossing the lines of professionalism in doing so. She could be a friend to her partner, couldn't she? She rubbed her shoulder, which had become a little tense. She couldn't deny she was attracted to Chris. Temptation teased her. He was attractive, sweet, kind, and a great friend to her brother.

The metro bell chimed, indicating their stop. They stepped onto the platform and entered a residential street. People hustled by and Famke observed a man placing a wreath on his door and a woman hanging garland around her window. In fact, the whole neighborhood was alive, placing candles in windows and decorating for Christmas. Yes,
Stephen's apartment definitely needed a holiday touch. She turned the corner with her brother and the ice rink came into view.

"Do you have any clogs?" she asked.

"Clogs? Heavens, no. I haven't laid out clogs for
Sinterklaas
since I was a boy."

"Then you need a pair –
Chris, too," she announced. December Fifth was one of the most important days during the Christmas season. She recalled as a young girl, she would lay out her wooden clogs at the door and in the morning they were filled with candies and toys. A sudden thought came to her – Chris would enjoy some Mozart Kugels in his shoes.

Grinning, she resolved to make this Christmas season special for Papa, Stephen, and Chris.

They arrived at the rink and Stephen opened the door for her. They checked in with the security guard and approached the ice. Famke spied Chris concentrating on his footwork and axels. His movements were effortless and graceful. The man was poetry in motion. She stood mesmerized, unable to take her eyes off him. Watching Chris heated her cheeks.

"Are you Miss deVries?"

Famke tore her gaze away from Chris and discovered an older man walking toward her. He was of average height, balding, with bushy eyebrows, and a tad heavyset. He wore a blue sweatshirt and gloves.

Stephen
placed his hand on her shoulder. "Maks, this is my sister, Famke."

He looked her over from head to toe. "You look like a skater."

She wrinkled her nose. "Thank you, I think."

"Leave your paperwork with me and put on your skates. We've only got three weeks before we skate for the Federation."

Famke removed her paperwork from her backpack and handed it to the crusty coach. She spied a wooden bench on the edge of the rink and sat down to put on her skates. On the opposite end, a red-haired woman wearing a skating leotard removed her skates. She sat next to her partner, a tall, gangly young man with black curls. Famke pursed her lips and glanced at the woman, taking a longer look. She was the woman Chris observed yesterday before his mood turned sad. Who was she?

Famke tied her skates, removed her peacoat and scarf, and glided out onto the ice
to do her warm up.

The red-haired woman stared at Famke, frowned, glanced at Chris, and then shook her head in what Famke believed was a gesture of disapproval and departed with her partner.

How rude.

"Show me a double axel," Maks huffed.

Chris skated to the side of the rink and joined the coach.

Famke performed a double axel.

Maks nodded and gestured for her to approach. "Who did you train with?"

"
Ingrid Dayton." She pushed aside her own sadness and forced a tight-lipped smile.

"
Ingrid. She was a good coach. Have you been in any competitions?"

"I went to the World Figure Skating Championships last year."

"What did you place?"

"Fourteenth." Famke hated to admit it, but she was proud of being selected and she had skated her heart out.

Maks rubbed his chin with his finger, deep in thought. "Do you remember your short program?"

"Yes."

"Skate it for me."

Famke glanced at
Chris and his smile grew, revealing that dimple she liked. Encouraged, she went onto the ice, set herself in the middle of the rink, then began the routine. She performed her step sequence with precision and her jumps flawlessly. When she finished, Chris clapped, beaming with enthusiasm. She skated to the side.

Maks grunted.

She hoped he approved.

"In pairs skating you must allow your partner to throw you and lift you. I will teach you. Can you do this?"

She glanced at Chris. "Yes, of course."

Chris
' expression sobered a bit.

Maks pointed to
Chris. "I want a simple pair spin and then throw her into a salchow jump."

"All right." He offered his palm to Famke and she grasped his hand. His skin was cold, but a warm pulse of attraction rushed down her arm.

Chris leaned close. "I'll put my hands on your waist and throw you. Don't be afraid if you can't get the landing right away. We have to learn each other's rhythms."

"I'll be fine," she replied.

First, they worked on the spin, and after a few minutes they found the balance in their rotational speed. Famke glanced at Maks and Stephen. Her brother grinned from ear-to-ear, but Maks frowned and rubbed his chin, scowling.

Famke skated away from
Chris, then re-approached, building speed, remaining completely focused, having never been thrown before. Chris reached out, grabbed her waist, lifted her, and threw her. Famke liked the height, performed the salchow, but her landing was too hard. She stumbled, but remained on her feet.

Chris skated to her and grasped her arm. She righted herself. Their eyes locked. Famke discovered
Chris' expression was filled with deep concern. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

Maks crossed his arms. "Not bad, but you need practice – a lot of practice. I want to see an overhead lift."

"No," said Chris quickly. "We're not ready."

Maks grunted. "We have three weeks to get ready and I need to complete the paperwork."

"We'll be ready in three weeks," said Chris.

Maks pointed to the ice. "Get back out there. We need to work on your step sequences and spirals."

Chris reached for Famke's hand. She took it. His hand was strong and firm, just like the first time. So why did he feel he wasn't ready for an overhead lift? Famke realized that question wouldn't be answered today.

Chapter
Four

Famke had never been much of a morning person. She wandered into the kitchen, made
Stephen an espresso, prepared a ham and cheese
brotchen
, and poured herself some granola.

Stephen
rushed in, flustered.

Famke yawned and reached out to straighten his tie. "There."

Stephen offered her a smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She sat at the table.

"Are you skating today?"

"In the afternoon.
Chris and I are going clog shopping at the Kris Kringle markets this morning."

"Have fun."

"I'm going to buy a pair for Papa, too."

Stephen
paused. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want him to know we're thinking about him."

"He might not remember—"

"Maybe he won't, but I want him to feel that we care more than I want him to remember."

"I didn't think about it like that."

"Thank you."

"I'll be home around four. Take it easy on Chris." Stephen finished his drink.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't push him on the overhead lifts."

She arched an eyebrow, encouraging him to offer her a little more.

"He doesn't want to hurt you, that's all."

She nodded for now and
Stephen raced out. Famke finished her meal, did the dishes, and jumped in the shower. The last three days she and Chris had spent long hours at the rink. Their choreography on their short routine was coming together nicely, but they needed more work on their long routine and Chris seemed reluctant to do an overhead lift. She heard what Stephen had told her about Katrien, but Famke was not a quitter. She needed to break through Chris' apprehension and win his trust.

The doorbell rang. Famke checked her watch.
Chris was right on time. She opened the door and his face brightened. That dimple peeked out and she bit her lower lip. A rush of warmth pricked her cheeks.
Curse that dimple.
It kept tempting her to step over the line.

"Good morning." He adjusted his backpack.

"Morning." She reached over and grabbed her scarf.

He closed the door for her and they hopped in the elevator. "We can have lunch at one of the food tents if you want and then head off to the rink."

"All right."

They walked outside and made their way to the metro stop.

Chris glanced skyward. "I think it might snow."

"Just in time for
Sinterklaas'
visit."

"That's what I like about you – you're not afraid to let the little girl out from time to time."

They stepped into the metro train and sat down across from each other.

Famke curved her lips into a grin. "I want to see
Stephen smile a bit more – and you."

He pointed to his chest. "Me?"

"I know it hasn't been easy for Stephen, caring for Papa. I'm glad you were such a good friend to him."

"He'd do the same for me."

"You're a great guy, Chris."

"I – well, thank you." His cheeks reddened a bit and he averted his gaze to the overhead maps.

It grew silent between them. Famke pursed her lips. She hadn't meant to embarrass him, but she did want to offer him a compliment. Thank goodness, he wasn't vain.

The train pulled into the main station and
Chris placed his hand on Famke's shoulder, guiding her out of the platform. The area was a bit crowded, and Famke liked the gesture. Chris made her feel protected in a way no one else had.

They navigated through the station and onto the main street. A cold breeze whipped off the Amstel River.
Chris directed her toward the Kris Kringle market. Famke spied a big gray tent in the middle of the pedestrian area with a small grill station nearby, cooking various sausages and pieces of chickens.

"It smells wonderful," she said.

Chris thoughtfully nodded, but didn't reply. She hoped she hadn't made him feel uncomfortable with her compliment. Giving him time, she walked through the aisles between the wooden booths. There were handmade ornaments, gloves, hats, and clogs. Several booths sold chocolates, marzipan, candles, candies, taffies, scarves, and toys.

She danced up to a booth and pointed to a long, wide set of clogs decorated with painted blue tulips. "I think this pair is for you."

His mood lightened. A spark grew in his sweet hazel eyes and he chuckled. "I don't think they're big enough for my feet."

"Nonsense, they're perfect. I'm getting them for you."

"Famke, really, I don't—"

"I'm going to get them. You and
Stephen have earned a visit from
Sinterklaas
this year."

"But—" He tried to protest.

Famke held up her hand. "It's not wise to tell
Sinterklaas
no. You might get coal in your clogs."

He chuckled at that, a warm, rich chuckle that released his killer dimple. Famke drew in a breath and nipped at her lower lip, pausing to admire his expression.

"Since you insist," he said. "Let me find you a set of clogs."

She waved her arm in a wide arc. "Go ahead. There are a ton to choose from."

He peered into the next booth. "Do you like pink?"

"I like multiple colors."

"Um." He picked through several clogs, a mock-serious expression on his face.

Famke glanced at him from time to time as she poked and prodded through more shoes. She picked out a green pair for
Stephen.

"Famke, what do you think of these?"
Chris held up a pair of wooden clogs with a purple and gold daisy print.

"I like them." Actually, they were okay, but he'd put thought into them and she appreciated his effort.

He glanced at her feet. "They might be a bit small."

"We're not going to wear them."

"You never tried on your clogs?"

"No." She grinned.

"Are you sure you like them?"

"They're perfect."

"Why?"

She offered him a playful scowl. "Because you picked them out."

His expression sobered a little, but the amber flecks in his hazel eyes brightened with pleasure.

"Stay here – I have a few more items to buy," he said.

She nodded and watched Chris wander off. She picked out a pair of shoes with a red tulip design for her father and paid for them. Strolling down the aisle, she looked at the various offerings for sale. Thankfully, the market wasn't very full. Several people passed her by, but she didn't feel crowded. She discovered a booth at the end of the lane that sold Mozart Kugel, taffy, and nuts. She weighed the items out and paid for them. A silver glint caught her eye and she checked the next stand. Dozens of spoons were on sale. Wanting to personalize her clogs, she bought three spoons, each with a different symbol representing Amsterdam. She'd give Stephen a spoon with the train station on it. Her father would get the spoon with the tulip, and she'd give Chris a spoon with the crest of the city.

"Famke! Where are you?"

Recognizing Chris' voice, she turned around and waved. His tone was rough, laced with worry.

"I'm here!"

As soon as he spied her, relief filled his eyes. He approached, his hands clasped before him. "I thought I'd lost you."

"You can't lose me. I'm your partner." She kept her tone light. "I'm sticking to you like glue."

He stopped before her and raked a hand through his golden hair. "I'll be honest – you gave me a bit of a scare."

She reached out and placed her hand on his arm, gazing up at his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

His eyes softened. "Maybe I overreacted."

"Hey, I'm done shopping. Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure."

She slung her backpack over her shoulders.
Chris adjusted his own, and placed his hand in the small of her back. Famke's body heated. She glanced at Chris and he offered her a boyish smile. Leaning against him, she enjoyed his touch.

Chris
guided them into the food tent. They ordered a warm apple cider with a nip of vodka, sausages, fries, and grilled onions. After paying for their meals, they selected a spot in the middle of the tent. They sat side-by-side, their shoulders practically touching.

"Do you have everything you need for tomorrow?"
Chris asked.

"I do."

"Maks filed our paperwork earlier this morning with the Skating Federation. He should have our date and time to present our program when we go in this afternoon."

Famke sipped her drink. "Good." She paused, trying to find a gentle way to bring up the next topic.

"Hey, why are you frowning?" Chris placed his thumb on her chin.

Warmth traveled down her neck. She reached up and laced her fingers with his. "We need to start practicing the overhead lifts."

He sighed. "I know, I know, I just need—"

"More time? We don't have it."

Chris tried to withdraw his hand, but Famke held him tightly. "Hey, what happened? Don't you trust me?"

He weighed her with a critical squint. "I do trust you – it's me I don't trust."

"Why?"

He paused and with his other hand scrubbed the back of his neck. "You're so pushy—"

"I care."

"Why?" he asked.

"You are infuriating."

He said nothing, only stared at her, and she knew she would have to give something of herself first.

"Stephen sacrificed a lot when I went to train in the States. He put our father in a care facility, and I know that wasn't a decision he made lightly. You were there for him and I appreciate that."

A spark of some indefinable emotion grew in his eyes. He drew in a long breath. "About a year ago, I had my partner in an overhead lift and stumbled on some uneven ice. She fell."

"Was she all right?"

"Yes, but her blade cut my arm, breaking it. I suffered a sprained ankle, too. I spent several weeks recovering and in physical therapy. During that time, Katrien left me." His voice resonated with the same sadness Famke had seen earlier.

A sudden thought came to her. "Does Katrien have red hair?"

"Yes." He paused. "She was at the rink the first time you met Maks."

"I thought so. Look, Chris, I'm not going to leave you."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean it." Her voice was firm. "I'm not leaving you."

"Why?" His voice dropped in volume.

"Because you didn't leave my brother."

"He's my friend."

Famke reached out and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a fierce hug. He returned the embrace. She felt his muscles relax a bit and he pulled away, his gaze seeking hers.

"I'm staying right here." Famke mouthed, as her eyes grew moist.

He cupped her cheek and his thumb lightly stroked her jaw. "Thank you," he whispered.

Famke leaned close.
Chris lowered his head and she sealed her promise with a kiss near his lips, afraid if they actually kissed, she'd break the last professional barrier between them.

He slowly drew away and removed his hand. "What now?"

"We practice our lifts."

"When?"

"Where's the nearest indoor swimming pool?" she asked.

"There's a sports complex not far from your apartment building."

"Then, tomorrow morning we'll go to the pool."

"But, Maks—"

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"All right, I'll explain it to him,"
Chris said. "We should eat."

"I'm famished."

"So am I."

Famke turned her attention to her plate, ready to devour her food, excited she had broken through the sadness that surrounded his heart.