Free Sensuality by Zane Page A

sister, come here to skate in the World Championships next month.”
    “That’s why you wound up in our neck of the woods,” Donald said, recalling Glenn’s words about banana republic athletes. “I was wondering.”
    “We were told the New York training facilities were the best,” Luisa said. “But we did not know that Lake Placid was so…remote.” She looked out the window. A red squirrel was hanging precariously from the bird feeder, snatching sunflower seeds even as it fell.
    “We are that,” Donald agreed.
    “It is too bad our mother did not come,” Luisa said. “This, she would have enjoyed. She stayed home because she was afraid of the city, with the taxis everywhere and the subway and the gangs…”
    María rattled off something, talking faster than Donald could think, much less comprehend. Luisa burst out laughing, only to catch herself a moment later, covering her mouth with her hand.
    “What’s so funny?” Donald asked.
    “My sister said our mother stayed home because she was afraid of leaving her boyfriend alone. He will be visiting all the other ladies in the village if she’s not there to keep an eye on him.” Her eyes were flashing. Donald felt himself drawn to their light, to the deep well of joy he sensed inside Luisa. “And she is probably right.”
    “What about your husband?” Donald blurted out, reddening at his own boldness, but compelled to ask. “Won’t he be visiting all the other ladies as well?”
    A look passed between Luisa and María, one that spoke volumes of which Donald wasn’t equipped to read.
    “We are from El Salvador, Mr. Altari. Wherever my husband may be, I am sure women are not one of his problems.”
     
    Stupid, stupid, stupid, Donald thought, resting his head against the steering wheel. So much for making a good impression with this family.
     
    Christian’s first day of classes went well. The tutor blended seamlessly into the school’s routine, allowing the boy to try his own hand at the unfamiliar language when appropriate, stepping in when necessary.
    He made friends easily, which helped. Donald watched through his office window as Christian slid effortlessly into a recess pickup soccer game, passing and kicking and laughing in the universal language of competition.
    Maybe things were going to turn out well after all.
    It must have been coincidence that brought Donald to the Olympic oval that Saturday—the same time María just happened to be practicing with the other Championship hopefuls.
    Donald eased into the stands beside Luisa.
    “Hi!” he said. “I come bearing hot chocolate.”
    “You are a big one for chocolate, aren’t you?” Luisa asked, taking the steaming cup. Their fingers touched for one split second, long enough to send her black eyes flickering to meet his blue ones.
    “Guilty as charged,” Donald replied. “I’ve an incurable sweet tooth.”
    They stood side by side, watching María work through her routine. Triple axels were followed by sit spins, alternating with dizzying footwork.
    “So how did a girl from El Salvador decide she wants to become an ice skater?” Donald asked, resting his arms on the thick barrier wall separating spectators from the ice. “It doesn’t seem the most natural choice.”
    Luisa laughed. “There’s not much natural about María.” She nodded her head toward the giant screen centered over the rink. Black and silent now, it provided close-up coverage during hockey games and high-profile skating events. “I blame the television. Too much Wide World of Sports, and here we are.”
    “She must be incredibly determined.”
    “All of the women in my family are,” Luisa replied. She eyed Donald sideways. “We decide we want something; we don’t stop until we get it.”
    Donald smiled. “I’ll consider myself warned.”
    Friday afternoon, half past two. Donald had the Alvarez phone number written on a Post-it note on his desk. Maybe it would be alright to call Luisa, invite her to