"Whoa," Kelly said. "She is good. She looks almost professional."
"She's not that good," Caroline said, as she gritted her teeth in an attempt to pull off one of her skates.
"She looks good to me," Kelly said. "Who is she?"
"Her name is Becky Reggis." Having given up trying to yank off her skate, Caroline was back to loosening the laces. "She was the junior state champion last year."
As if sensing she was being watched, the girl then executed two double axels in a row before arcing around the end of the rink, heel to heel. A number of the shoppers broke out in spontaneous applause.
"She's fantastic," Kelly said.
"Yeah, well, she's been invited to the Nationals this year," Caroline reluctantly added.
"Hmmm," Kelly murmured. She looked at Brian. "There could be a story there."
Brian shrugged. "Maybe for the six o'clock. Certainly not for the eleven."
Kelly redirected her attention to the skater. "Her last name is Reggis, huh?"
"Yup," Caroline said. She had both skates off now and was looking in her knapsack for her shoes.
"Could that be Dr. Kim Reggis's daughter?" Kelly asked.
"I know her father's a doctor," Caroline said.
"How do you know?" Kelly asked.
"She goes to my school," Caroline said. "She's a year ahead of me."
"Well, bingo!" Kelly murmured. "This must be serendipity calling."
"I recognize that beady look in your eye," Brian said. "You're like a cat ready to pounce. You're plotting something."
"I can't find my shoes," Caroline complained.
"I just had a brainstorm," Kelly said. She picked up Caroline's shoes from the bench and put them in her daughter's lap. "Dr. Kim Reggis would be perfect for this merger story. He was chief of cardiac surgery at the Samaritan before the merger and then, bang, he became one of the Indians. I'd bet he'd have something saucy and sexy to say."
"No doubt," Brian said. "But would he talk to you? He didn't come off too good in that 'Poor Little Rich Kids' piece you did."
"Oh, that's water over the dam," Kelly said with a wave of dismissal.
"That might be the way you feel," Brian said, "but I doubt he'd feel the same way."
"He had it coming," Kelly said. "I'm sure he's figured that out. For the life of me I can't understand why cardiac surgeons like him don't realize their moaning about Medicare reimbursement rates strikes a hollow chord with the public when they're earning six-figure incomes. You'd think they'd be more street-smart."
"Deserved or not, I can't imagine he wasn't pissed," Brian said. "I doubt if he'd talk to you."
"You're forgetting that surgeons like Kim Reggis love publicity," Kelly said. "Anyway, I think it's worth the risk. What do we have to lose?"
"Time," Brian said.
"Which we don't have much of," Kelly said. Bending down to Caroline, she added: "Sweetie, would you know if Becky's mother were here?"
"Sure," Caroline said. She pointed. "She's over there in the red sweater."
"How convenient," Kelly said, as she straightened up to peer across the ice. "This truly is serendipitous. Listen, Chicken, finish getting your shoes on. I'll be right back." Kelly turned to Brian. "Hold the fort."
"Go for it, girl," Brian said with a smile.
Kelly walked around the end of the skating rink and approached Becky's mother. The woman appeared to be about her own age. She was attractive and well groomed, although her clothes were conservative. Kelly hadn't seen a crew-neck sweater over a white collared shirt on a woman since she'd been in college. Becky's mother was deeply absorbed in a book that couldn't have been bestseller fiction. She was carefully underlining with a yellow felt-tipped pen.
"Excuse me," Kelly said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you too much."
Becky's mother looked up. She was a dark brunette with auburn highlights. Her features were chiseled but her demeanor was gentle and her spirit immediately empathetic.
"It's quite all right," the woman said. "Can I help you?"
"Are you Mrs. Reggis?" Kelly asked.
"Please call me Tracy."
"Thanks," Kelly said. "That looks like serious reading for the skating rink."
"I have to take advantage of every moment I get," Tracy replied.
"It looks like a textbook," Kelly said.
"I'm afraid it is," Tracy said. "I've gone back to school in my early middle age."
"That's commendable," Kelly said.
"It's challenging," Tracy said.
"What's the title?"
Tracy flipped the book over to show its cover. "The Assessment of Child and Adolescent Personality."
"Whoa! That sounds heavy," Kelly said.
"It's not too bad," Tracy said. "In fact it's interesting."
"I've got a nine-year-old daughter," Kelly said. "I probably should read something about teenage behavior before all hell breaks loose."
"It can't hurt," Tracy said. "Parents need all the help they can get. Adolescence can be a tough time, and it's been my experience that when difficulties are anticipated, they happen.
"Sounds like something you know a bit about," Kelly said.
"Some," Tracy admitted. "But you can never be complacent. Before going back to school last semester, I was involved with therapy, mostly with children, including adolescents."
"Psychologist?" Kelly asked.
"Social worker," Tracy said.
"Interesting," Kelly said to change the subject. "Actually, the reason I came over here was to introduce myself. I'm Kelly Anderson of WENE News."
"I know who you are," Tracy said with a touch of scorn.
"Uh-oh!" Kelly said. "I have the uncomfortable feeling that my reputation precedes me. I hope you don't hold it against me that I did that segment on cardiac surgeons and Medicare."
"I felt it was underhanded," Tracy said. "Kim was under the impression that you were sympathetic when he agreed to do the interview."
"I was to an extent," Kelly said. "After all, I did present both sides of the issue."
"Only in regard to falling professional incomes," Tracy said. "Which you made the focus. In reality that's only one of the issues that concern cardiac surgeons."
A pink blur raced past Kelly and Tracy and drew their attention to the rink. Becky had increased her speed and was now tensing as she streaked backward. Then, to the delight of the impromptu audience of shoppers, she executed a perfect triple axel. More applause erupted.
Kelly let out a faint whistle. "Your daughter is a phenomenal skater."
"Thank you," Tracy said. "We think she is a phenomenal person."
Kelly regarded Tracy in an attempt to interpret her comment. Kelly couldn't quite decide if it were meant to be disdainful or merely informative. But Tracy 's face gave little hint. She stared back at Kelly with a soulful but undecipherable expression.
"Did she get her skating talent from you?" Kelly asked.
Tracy laughed freely, letting her head fall back in true amusement. "Hardly," she said. "I've never had a pair of skates on my clumsy feet. We don't know where she got her talent. One day she just said she wanted to skate, and the rest is history."
"My daughter says Becky's going to the Nationals this year," Kelly said. "That might make a good story for WENE."
"I don't think so," Tracy said. "Becky was invited, but she's decided not to go."
"I'm sorry," Kelly said. "Gosh, you and the good doctor must be crushed."
"Her father's not terribly happy," Tracy said. "But to be honest, I'm relieved."
"Why is that?" Kelly asked.
"That level of competition extracts a high price from anyone, much less a prepubescent child. It's not always mentally healthy. It's a lot of risk without a lot of payoff."