“It’s just my time. When you know, you know. I’ve made peace with it.” She reached for her cup and took a long sip of her latte, letting the spicy flavor of the chai settle on her tongue. “It feels scary, but I’m getting to the point in my life where my priorities have changed.”
Should I say something to Gemma about Dad?she wondered.We’ve always told one another everything. I feel so guilty keeping such a large secret from her.
Gemma kept a straight face. “Do you promise that you haven’t been holding out on me and are leaving the tour to run off with a guy?”
“A guy?” She furrowed her brow. “Nope. Definitely not. I haven’t been on a date in I don’t even want to know how long.” She shook her head. “If there was a guy involved, you’d be thefirstperson I’d tell.”
Dating was too complicated when she lived her life out of a suitcase for more than half the year.
Gemma reached for the last piece of baklava on her plate. “Point taken. The last guy I dated was Paul. Great skater. Terrible people skills.”
“I think a lot of skaters lack basic people skills. From an early age, we’re trained to focus on ourselves,” Frankie said.
Her friend sighed. “At least as a pairs skater, you were able to work with another person.” Gemma had been a singles skater who learned basic pairs skating skills when she joined the company.
“In theory.” Frankie’s mind turned to her long-time competitive skating partner, Danny. Their relationship had been more one-sided than a shared partnership. He was the type of partner who was always telling her what he thought was best for them. Yes, back then, her jumps were not the most consistent, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. She’d had a growth spurt at the worst possible time.
She’d never forgiven him for ending their partnership right before the start of the Olympic season. It had spelled the end of her competitive career. She’d never had any luck finding someone else to skate with her.
The harsh reality was that there were ten female skaters for every male partner. It was like a Regency-era marriage mart. As soon as a skating mother took note of an eligible partner for her daughter, he was snapped up for a tryout.
They chatted for a few more minutes, then Gemma glanced at her smartwatch. “We should start heading back to the arena to warm up soon. The traffic was heavier than I thought it would be when we left. Now, it’s rush hour.”
Frankie took two final bites of her salad and pushed her plate away. “Good idea. I just wanted to pop into one of those touristy shops and pick up a magnet for my dad.”
Gemma signaled for the waiter to bring them their check. “Is there even any space left on the family fridge?”
“Last time I was home, there were a couple of gaps left near the freezer.” Frankie reached down and opened her purse, searching for her card holder.
“He’ll be so happy to have you nearby again.” Gemma smiled. “How’s he doing these days?”
A waiter walked over to their table and Frankie said a silent thanks that she was saved from having to answer the question, because at this point in time, even she didn’t have a full answer.
CHAPTER 1
Three Months Later
Frankie’s turn indicator clicked as she waited for the oncoming traffic to pass by. She gripped the steering wheel tightly. A few drops of rain made a soft pitter-patter sound against the windshield.
I swore I’d do everything I could to escape Grizzly Springs, and here I am, moving back.
Driving down the town’s main route, State Highway Three, she was stuck with a strong sense of déjà vu. Strict building codes had kept the facade of the historical town center largely unchanged. Yet at the same time, many of the small family-owned businesses that had been a fixture during her teenage years had been replaced by big-box retailers.
Frankie turned left, and maneuvered her car into the parking lot of the Lakeside Apartment Complex. She parked in an open spot near apartment number fifteen and turned off the engine. Taking a few deep breaths, she sat for a moment, and closed her eyes. The skies had opened. Sheets of rain pelted down on the windshield steadily.
Would her dad ask how her latest job interview had gone or was there a chance she’d be able to skirt around the issue a little longer? She felt the telltale dull throb of an oncoming tension headache. Searching for a job in the real world had been a wake-up call.
Potential employers might be impressed by her skating experience, but they treated her like a high school kid since she lacked any practical work experience. If she heard another “we’ll be in touch if a position suited to you opens up,” she’d scream.
It would’ve been much easier if the hiring managers of the places she’d applied to would just tell her directly if she was or wasn’t the candidate for them. She could handle the rejection. It was being in limbo that frustrated her to no end.
She rested her forehead on the cool leather of the steering wheel. Was she being too picky? All she wanted was a job that offered her stable hours and insurance benefits. Was that too much to ask?
It was her turn to take care of her dad. He was in his mid-seventies now. He’d always done whatever it took to come up with the funds to pay for her endless ice time, skating lessons, skating tests, costumes, choreography, and competitions. No matter what she needed, her father had found a way to get it for her.
A surge of guilt flooded her body. What if nobody wanted her? What if she never found a job? Her eyes opened. She pounded her fist against the dashboard. No. It wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t. She wouldn’t let it. She was her father’s daughter. Giving up was not an option.
I have options. As much as I don’t want to become a skating coach, beggars can’t be choosers. I have to do what I have to do.
