Life on the Edge Page 8

  “I’m going out to scrape the ice off Em’s car.”

  I planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

  He went out the back door, sending a blast of cold air into the warm, cozy room. I perched on the stool next to the island, my favorite spot in the kitchen.

  “Did I tell you Chris and Marley went out on a date? Well, actually, three dates now. They’ve become inseparable.”

  Mom twisted her neck to look at me. “What do you think about that?”

  “I think it’s great. He’s been crushing on her so long, I’m glad they’re finally going out. They’re really cute together.”

  “You’re not worried Chris will get distracted?”

  “Chris? Distracted? This is the guy who can tell jokes five minutes before he competes and then nail every element. He’s incapable of being distracted.”

  “He really is the best partner you could ask for.”

  I picked up the dishrag and folded it into a neat square. “Believe me, I thank God every day he chose to skate with me when he could’ve found a more experienced partner.”

  Mom shut off the sink and dried her hands on her yellow apron, one I’d given her a few years ago. It was embroidered with the message Don’t Mess With the Cook. I’d thought it was fitting since my mother was not someone to mess with in general.

  She stood beside the island and patted my hand. “I have to say, even though I was upset you didn’t take the scholarship to Boston University and you postponed college, I think you made the right decision switching to pairs. There’s a glow about you now when you compete.”

  I smiled. “That’s because I’m not scared to death anymore. Having Chris out there with me is so comforting. And you know the coaches I had growing up were great technically but not so much with the psychological stuff. Sergei’s helped me tons with my confidence.”

  “He definitely has the magic touch with you.”

  I stifled a snort. He’s touched something for sure.

  “We should’ve invited Sergei to dinner at Aunt Deb’s last night,” Mom continued. “It must be hard for him, not seeing his family at the holidays.”

  No doubt he would’ve declined that invitation faster than Mom could deliver it.

  “I heard him say he was having dinner with another coach and his family.”

  “Still, it’s a shame he doesn’t have someone to spend the holidays with. He’s such a nice, good-looking guy. I’m surprised women aren’t lining up to date him, but I guess he’s pretty engrossed in his job.”

  The thought of Sergei with a woman made my breakfast rise to my throat. I jumped down from the stool and poured myself a fresh glass of apple juice to wash away the sour taste.

  Once Dad finished defrosting my car, I got on the road to the Cape. As I drove, I thought about the next time I’d travel that highway–the trip to Nationals in Boston in three weeks.

  With our strong showing in the Grand Prix series, Chris and I were the favorites to win. The championship was a title we needed to cement ourselves as contenders for a medal at the World Championships in March. And a medal at Worlds would make us one of the top teams going into next season. The Olympic season. Every competition was a building block for the potentially life-changing event. Sergei always reminded us not to look ahead, but I knew how crucial winning Nationals was to the big picture.

  A blaring car horn startled me from my thoughts, and I realized I’d started drifting into the next lane. I gripped the steering wheel harder and jerked it to the right, my leather gloves squeaking against it. Easing my push on the accelerator, I exhaled and shook my head. Can’t win anything if you don’t make it to practice alive.

  ****

  My blade hit the ice, carving a deep groove, and I reached for Chris’s hand. He lifted me into the air, and I suppressed another laugh at the Santa hat he’d worn to practice.

  Aubrey and Nick whizzed past us, concentrating on their midline footwork sequence. Moving in the opposite direction were Marley and Zach, executing circular steps. Those two couples were the only company we had on the ice.

  We struck our ending pose, and Chris exclaimed, “Perfect run-through! Merry Christmas, Sergei!”

  Sergei applauded and skated over to us. “Not quite perfect. There were a couple of little things, but it was very good.”

  “Can’t you humor us for once?” Chris asked. “It is Christmas.”

  Even Sergei couldn’t keep a straight face looking at Chris. He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure. “I do appreciate you both coming in and cutting short your day with your families. You did a great job today. We’ll pick it up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

  “Before we go, we have something for you,” I said. “Can you meet us in the lounge in a few minutes?”

  Chris and I changed out of our skates in the locker room and headed upstairs. The lounge was void of the usual crowd of skating moms peering through the glass with critical eyes at their kids on the ice. Sergei stood alone beside the water cooler.

  “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said.

  “We wanted to solidify our position as your favorite students.” Chris’s face locked into a grin.

  With a bounce in my step, I handed Sergei the present. He smiled as he tore the shiny red and gold wrapping paper. Flipping through the pages of the book, his smile stretched wider.

  “This is so cool. I didn’t know Sting had made a book like this. Thank you.” I tried to contain my goofy grin of excitement as he continued, “Em, I’ll have to let you borrow it when I’m done. I know you’ll enjoy it, too.”

  He smiled at me and another little piece of my heart crumbled. I hadn’t received many of those smiles lately.

  Chris balled together the shredded wrapping paper from the counter and swished it into the trash can with a basketball toss. “I’m gonna wait downstairs for Marley.” He gave me a hug. “Merry Christmas. Same to you, Sergei.”

  Sergei waved as Chris walked to the stairs. “Enjoy the rest of the holiday.”

  The room was silent except for the hum of the vending machines. Sergei opened the book again.

  “I’m really looking forward to reading this. I’m guessing you picked it out?”

  “When I saw it on the shelf, I knew I had to get it.”

  He slowly closed the cover. “I, um, I have something for you, too, since you’ve been such a big help with Courtney and Mark.”

  “Oh.” Blood rushed to my cheeks, and a smile formed on my lips. “You didn’t have to. I was just doing my job.”

  “A really great job,” Sergei insisted. “The present’s in the staff office if you want to wait here.”

  My pulse thumped faster with anticipation each second Sergei was gone. When he returned, he held a large square gift covered in silver paper.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  The present was heavier than I expected. I set it on the nearest table and ripped away the thin wrapping, uncovering an unmarked cardboard box.

  “Hmm, mysterious,” I said and opened one end of the box.

  Sliding my fingers inside, I gripped what felt like a frame and pulled it out. Before me was the print of Beacon Hill I’d admired in the gift shop on Main Street when I’d helped Sergei shop for his mother.

  My mouth hung open as I stared at the picture. I raised my eyes to Sergei. “You remembered.”

  He didn’t answer right away. His eyes darted from me to the print and back to me. “You seemed to really like it.”

  “I know, but that was months ago, and we looked at a lot of prints that day.”

  “I was hoping you hadn’t bought it already.” He continued to sidestep my amazement.

  “No, I still have the spot above my desk for it.” I gazed at the enchanting scene of a rainy evening on Beacon Hill. “Thank you so much. It’s a very thoughtful gift.”

  He gave me a little nod. “You’re welcome.”

  Under ordinary circumstances, a hug would be appropriate, but I couldn’t be respo
nsible for what I might do if I got that close to Sergei. I slid the picture into its box and discarded the gift wrap.

  “Did you have a good Christmas Eve?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Will’s wife cooked a great dinner. It’s still a little strange for me, celebrating now instead of after the New Year.”

  “Oh, right, because Christmas is in January in Russia. Well, you could celebrate twice, have twice the fun,” I said with a smile.

  Sergei laughed, and I wondered if maybe there was some holiday magic happening, allowing us to chat comfortably once again.

  “How was your time with your family?”

  “It was great. Aunt Deb and Uncle Joe cooked an Italian feast last night.” Sergei’s eyes widened as I spoke. “There were five different pasta dishes and homemade cannoli. You would’ve loved–” I stopped myself and then finished quietly, “Loved it.”

  Sergei took a noticeable swallow. “It sounds great.”

  I picked up my present and held the box with both arms. “Thanks again for the picture. I’m going to hang it up as soon as I get home.”

  “I’m headed out, too,” he said, turning toward the stairs.

  He trailed behind me on the steps, and I went in the direction of the locker room to get my purse. Marley and Chris were standing next to the boards, laughing and touching each other’s hands in the fun-new-relationship kind of way I’d seen others do. Little cartoon hearts practically floated above their heads.

  I smiled at their giddiness, but a pang of envy snuck up on me. If only things could be that easy for Sergei and me.

  Chapter Ten

  Aubrey breezed into our Boston hotel room and tugged on the hem of my black fitted blazer. “Look at you, Miss Professional Coach.”

  Laughing, I smoothed the mauve silk blouse under my jacket. “Tonight’s a big night. Courtney and Mark could be my first medal-winning students.”

  “They’re doing awesome for their first Nationals,” Aubrey said, turning on the TV. “I’ll be there with the whole gang cheering for them.”

  I sat on the bed and pulled on my tall leather boots. “How was your practice?”

  “It was good. There were about five fans watching.”

  “There’ll be a lot more by the end of the week.” I rose and checked my black skirt for lint. “I’m going down to Court’s room to do her hair and makeup.”

  “Tell her good luck for me.”

  Grabbing my coat and purse, I headed toward the door. “Will do!”

  Courtney’s parents had gone downstairs to the lobby, giving Courtney and me privacy. As we’d done before the short program the prior night, we spread the cosmetic products around the bathroom sink, and I positioned my young student in front of the mirror. Courtney was going through the gawky phase most twelve-year-olds experience, and I wanted her to feel pretty and confident when she and Mark took the ice.

  She was unusually quiet as I applied light pink blush to her fair cheeks.

  “Talk to me, girlie,” I said.

  Her blond head dipped. “I’m really scared I’m gonna mess up, and if we drop out of fourth place, we won’t win a medal.”

  She’s like a mini-me

  .

  “I’ll tell you what Sergei always says to me. Let your body take over, and it’ll stop your mind from getting in the way.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You’re gonna do great. Think about all the clean run-throughs you’ve done at home. You can do this program in your sleep.”

  She stared in the mirror, and I watched her green eyes narrow with resolve. When she faced me, they enlarged with gratitude. “I’m so glad Sergei asked you to work with us. He’s cool and all, but it’s great having you to talk to.”

  I hugged her, careful not to mess up her makeup. “Anytime you need me, I’m here.”

  She smiled, revealing the clear plastic braces covering her teeth. As I brushed a light coat of mascara onto her lashes, she asked, “You’re gonna keep working with us next season, right? I know it’ll be busy for you with the Olympics.”

  “As long as Sergei thinks it’s okay, I’m definitely planning on it.”

  “He will. You guys make a great team.”

  I paused between brush strokes. “You think so, huh?”

  “Yeah. You know, how sometimes he’ll come up with an idea for a move, and you’ll start showing us before he even finishes talking . . . like you can read his mind.”

  Oh, how I’d love to read his mind. Or maybe not. In our situation, ignorance might indeed be bliss.

  Courtney continued babbling, “You should coach together full-time after you win the Olympics.”

  I laughed. “You sound pretty confident Chris and I will win.”

  “Aren’t you always telling me to have more confidence?”

  I set down the mascara and picked up a tube of lipstick. “Yes, I am. Point well taken. Now, I need you to be quiet for a minute while I put on your lipstick.”

  After one last check of Courtney’s makeup, I rolled her long, curly hair into a neat bun and spritzed it with hair spray. Squeezing her shoulders, I gave her a broad smile.

  “Let’s go have some fun.”

  The novice-level events were being held at Matthews Arena on the campus of Northeastern University, a smaller venue than the twenty thousand-seat Fleet Center, where Chris and I would compete later in the week. When it was time for Courtney and Mark to skate, Sergei and I took our positions next to the ice. I felt very official standing by the boards with him, and I could picture myself down the road doing it full-time and loving it.

  As Courtney and Mark began their program, I slid my sweaty palms back and forth along the smooth paper-covered barrier. The kids set up for the side-by-side double axels, and I inhaled a short breath. They completed the jumps, but Courtney spun out of the landing, wearing a look of panic. I patted the boards and tapped the heels of my boots. Come on, keep it together, Court.

  The Sleeping Beauty ballet music built to a high, and Mark propelled Courtney across the ice for the throw double loop. I didn’t breathe as she twirled in the air. She came down on one foot and opened her arms out wide, a smile as big as I’d ever seen on her face. I clutched Sergei’s forearm and squealed but kept my eyes glued to the ice.

  With each executed element, I pumped my free hand into a fist, while Sergei slapped the boards. As our students hit their final pose, I screamed and turned to Sergei, tears clouding my vision. I realized I was still squeezing the sleeve of his suit jacket and quickly let go.

  “Sorry,” I said, laughing and crying at the same time.

  “It’s okay.” He smiled and put his arm around me. “It’s hard not to get excited.”

  We must’ve looked like beaming parents as we waited for the kids in the Kiss & Cry. Courtney jumped into my arms before I could hand over her skate guards.

  I embraced her and sniffed back tears. “I’m so proud of you.”

  I hugged Mark next and told him the same thing. He and Courtney chattered with excitement as we listened to the scores and then went backstage to wait for the results. We huddled around the monitor, watching the final two couples perform.

  I clasped my hands together and held them under my chin, hoping to see Courtney and Mark’s names no lower than fourth place, the pewter medal position. Sergei stood beside me, rubbing his knuckles.

  A blank blue screen filled the monitor, and a second later, the standings popped up.

  “Fourth place!” Courtney screeched.

  I added to her screeching and smothered the kids in hugs. When I faced Sergei, he draped his arms around my shoulders.

  “I can’t thank you enough for your help.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  I put my hands on his waist, and he shuffled backward. Courtney shook my arm as she jumped up and down, and I grinned at her, moving past the awkwardness with Sergei. I’d become a pro at that.

  At the medal ceremony, Sergei and
I stood in the Kiss & Cry, snapping photos. “Look how adorable they are,” I said as Courtney and Mark accepted their enormous bouquets of flowers.

  Sergei laughed. “They might sleep with their medals tonight.”

  I lowered my camera and gazed at the podium. “I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of anyone in my life.”

  “Now you know how I feel when you and Chris skate.”

  Our eyes met, and I felt the unmistakable connection between us. As quickly as the moment arrived, it vanished when the winning team’s coach came over with congratulations.

  ****

  The following evening, Courtney and Mark’s mothers treated Sergei and me to a celebratory dinner with the kids. My suggestion of Panificio, an Italian bistro on Beacon Hill, was a hit with everyone in our party. As Courtney and Mark finished their pizzas and the rest of us cleaned our plates of pasta, Courtney’s mom Karen said she would call two taxis for the return trip to the Sheraton Back Bay.

  Sergei dabbed his mouth with his linen napkin. “Actually, I have something I want to talk to Emily about.” He focused his eyes on me. “Can you stay for a cup of coffee? We can get a cab back after.”

  I sat up a little straighter. “Sure.”

  By the time Courtney, Mark, and their mothers left, my heart was hammering from the suspense. I specified decaf for my coffee because I couldn’t afford to lose any sleep the night before my competition. Plus, I was already hyped up enough, being in the romantic setting with Sergei. The small room was softly lit, allowing us to see out the wall of windows onto Charles Street, where tiny white lights twinkled in the trees. Only one other couple occupied a table near the door, so it felt as if we had the whole place to ourselves.

  Across the candlelit table, Sergei’s blue eyes reminded me of two sparkling sapphires. He nudged up the sleeves of his gray sweater and took a sip of water.

  “I wanted to talk to you about Courtney and Mark, and how I’d like to handle next season. I want to make a big change.”

  I stiffened. Did he not want me to be part of the team anymore?

  He continued, “I don’t want you–”

  “Are you thinking I shouldn’t work with them next season?” My words rushed out. “Because I can manage my time and the pressure of the Olympics–”