“I’ll take you up on that offer when things slow down in the new year. As for being okay… I’m not okay, but I’m also notnotokay. Does that make sense? I’m a work in progress.”
“A work in progress is still something to be so proud of.” She glances at me. “You should tell Grant what’s going on. I know their season just started so you think your shit isn’t as important, but it is. Promise me you’ll give him a head’s-up?”
“Fine,” I relent. “I will. But I know how it’s going to go: he’ll try to fix the problem because he’s a people-pleaser who doesn’t like when his loved ones aren’t happy. Which is unfortunate, since I’m not sure I can be fixed.”
“You’re unbreakable, Hannah Everett. We’re going to figure this out.”
I fumble with my water glass in an attempt to stop the tears that are threatening to fall.
Unbreakable is the last thing I am. Cracked and fragile and absolutely clueless about where I go from here is a more accurate description of my current life. I’m so far from the girl I was five years ago, back when magazines wanted to take my picture and people packed into arenas to watch me perform, but deep down, I feel it. The glimmer of hope. The flicker of optimism, and maybe there’s a solution out there I haven’t considered yet.
I just have to find it.
SEVEN
BRODY
The doorto my penthouse condo slams shut. Heavy footsteps stomp down the hall. I look up from my laptop just as Olivia charges into the kitchen like a bat out of hell.
She drops her backpack on the floor and rips open the pantry, grumbling under her breath. I blink, wondering when I should intervene, and decide it’s best if I keep my mouth shut.
Fourteen years of being a parent, and I still can’t figure shit out.
Add in a teenage girl going through body changes and her first year in high school next year while I’m starting the hockey season and about to be on the road the majority of the next eight and a half months? I’m out of my element.
I learned a long time ago that Olivia takes after me. She’s stubborn. Hard-headed and fiercely determined. The more I push her to do something, the less likely she is to do it, so I keep my mouth shut. I press play on my laptop, watching video from last night’s game that resulted in us giving up two goals to a team significantly less talented than us.
I slow the speed on the footage and jot down some notes on the piece of paper in front of me, keeping an eye on Olivia asshe pours herself a glass of orange juice and lays out a stack of crackers.
“Dad,” she says.
“Hm? What?” I pretend like I didn’t notice she was there. “Oh. Hi, sweetie. What’s up?”
“Everything fucking sucks.”
“What did I tell you about cursing?”
“You curse all the time.” She drops in the chair across the table from me and sighs. “And you turned out just fine.”
“Thanks, kid.” I shut my computer so I can give her my full attention. I love my job. I put a lot of time into it, but being a parent—even one who is still clueless—will always come first. Especially when my daughter seems like she’s on the verge of a crisis. “Why does everything suck?”
“Practice was horrible.”
“Did you get hurt?” I assess her knees and feet, checking for a brace or a wrapped ankle. I’m relieved to find pink leg warmers and no bandages. “I don’t see any injuries.”
“No, I didn’t get hurt.” Olivia groans and buries her face in her hands. “Coach Susannah is having a baby.”
“Uh. Okay? How does that have anything to do with your figure skating?”
“Because she’s taking a leave of absence and I won’t have a coach anymore!” Her shoulders shake, but I resist reaching out so I can give her space. “With only ten months until the Potomac Memorial Open, which is my shot at a national qualifying series, I can’t not have a coach!”
“Ten months? That’s a long way away, isn’t it?”
“Says the guy who is planning for the Stanley Cup even though it’s October.”
“Fair point.” I rub my jaw. “Okay. I’ll pay someone a shit ton of money, and they won’t be able to say no.”
“It doesn’t work like that, Dad. People don’t care that you’re a millionaire.” She lifts her head, and I’m surprised she’s crying. I know skating means the world to her, but this feels easily solvable. “There are regimented schedules. Designated time we can use the ice, and I’m a solo skater. I don’t have a partner, so I have no one to join. Everything I’ve worked so hard for is going to shit.”
