“Oh, I like that.” Frankie placed the cones in her arms next to Leslie’s.
“Hockey has a lot of moving pieces to it. I’ll only work with kids who can prove they can be team players.” Eyes sweeping the ice one final time, Leslie looked satisfied that everything had been put in its rightful place. “Speaking of being team players, you were late today. As a rule of thumb, I like all the instructors to be on the ice at least five minutes before class begins.”
Frankie’s shoulders stiffened. “It won’t happen again. I’m usually the type of person who’s never late. There was a . . .” She considered her words carefully, uncertain as to how friendly Leslie was with Charlie. “Misunderstanding. Jack’s aware.”
“Charlie.” Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “What did he do this time?”
Frankie hesitated.
“I swear on my favorite hockey stick that whatever you tell me stays between us. You can trust me.”
Frankie rubbed the back of her neck. “Um . . . there was a problem with the new-hire paperwork and with my start date.” Her cheeks warmed. “I received an email from him, but it was . . . uh . . . missing all the key information.”
Leslie facepalmed and muttered under her breath. “This is exactly whyIshould’ve been named the skating program director and not my brother.”
Had she heard Leslie correctly? Charlie was her brother? Now she really hoped she hadn’t overstepped.My first day and I’ve already thrown the boss under the bus.
“Thanks for telling me. In the future, promise me that if you need anything, you’ll come to me, or to Jack.” Leslie shook her head and locked eyes with Frankie. “Charlie will take forever to get back to you, and that’s onlyifhe remembers.”
She wondered what the story was between the siblings. It was apparent Leslie was the one who held the real power around anything related to the skating academy. All the other coaches Frankie had met in the pros’ room earlier had defaulted to her.
“Understood.”
Leslie relaxed. “Now that that’s been settled, let’s get you a set of keys to the pros’ room, a coaching jacket, a Sharpie to draw on the ice, and a schedule.”
They skated to the rink door and stepped off the ice. Frankie picked up her skate guards and balanced against the plexiglass as she slid them over her blades. Her pulse increased. “I don’t think I’m ready to teach on my own yet.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t be flying solo until I’m satisfied you can handle it.” Leslie winked. “You’ll be shadowing me or another coach for four more weeks, then co-teaching for another four.”
“I’m so relieved to hear you say that.”
Maybe coaching wouldn’t be so terrible, after all.
* * *
Later that week, Frankie arrived at the rink an hour before the ten a.m. open freestyle session to fit in a full warm-up. Inserting a set of wireless earbuds into her ears, she cranked up the music on her phone and started jumping rope.
The lobby area was nearly empty. A few straggling students from the morning session, already late to school, were ushered by frantic parents to cars double parked in front of the building.
Frankie smiled. Her dad was always frustrated she could never learn to tell time. She always wanted to stay on the ice trying one more jump or spin until she was literally kicked off the session by her coach or the Zamboni driver.
With her heart rate up, Frankie moved on to her stretching routine. Her muscles ached after her long break from skating. How longhadit been since she’d taken the ice? She ran through the last couple of months in her head. The only definitive date she could remember was her last show with Dreams on Ice.
I guess I’ve been so wrapped up with Dad, finding a job, and settling into life in Grizzly Springs that I really haven’t skated in more than ten weeks. Do we have an ice bucket at home? I’m going to be so sore after this session. Will I even be able to make it through two full hours?
Questions running rampant through her head, Frankie laced up her skates and headed to the ice. She placed her guards and a rink-side bag containing her phone, water bottle, and a box of tissues on the boards, and pushed off into a set of forward and backward power pulls.
Cold air greeted her face. Her blades dug into the ice and let out ripping noises every time she moved from an outside edge to inside edge. She focused on her breathing and getting a nice deep knee bend. She was home. There was no other place where she felt so free and at ease. When she was on the ice, it was as if she’d been transported to another world.
Picking up some speed with a set of fast back crossovers, Frankie stepped into a camel spin. As if her old coach were yelling in her ear, she could hear Mr. Franks telling her to point her foot, lift her leg higher, and watch her centering.
Changing positions, she brought her leg around and snapped into a sit spin. She leaned forward and grabbed her shin in what was known as a cannonball position. She’d always thought it was a strange name. She felt a sharp pull. Her hamstring muscles were tight.
“Hey!” a man’s deep voice suddenly called out.
Caught unaware, her concentration broke, and she leaned too far back on her blade and fell, spinning on her butt like a break dancer. Slightly dizzy, Frankie took a moment to catch her breath. The world slowly shifted back into focus.
“Hey!” the voice shouted again.
