“I like this rink,” he gestured around it. “It’s homey.”
“Is that a compliment?” I asked, preemptively offended on behalf of my turf. “Because it doesn’t sound like one.”
Ben used to train at a state-of-the-art arena in Utah that had every amenity, on-ice and off. While my arena was more advanced than a basic neighborhood rink, it certainly wasn’t the Olympic proving ground that he was used to, with a full gym, video analytics lab, dance studio, and rehab center all on-site.
“Definitely a compliment,” he nodded. “There’s community here. A rink like this is where the journey begins for a lot of these kids. They have this vague idea that skating is fun. Combine that with natural talent and they’re off.”
I didn’t have to ask if that was how it happened for him because I already knew his entire backstory, like the rest of the country. An art dealer father and opera singer mother from California who had no background in sports, but recognized and supported Ben’s drive. His move to the Utah facility at thirteen, and then his ridiculous winning streak.
“Listen, I wanted to talk about something with you, before the rest of the team get here,” Ben said. I could feel him watching me. “When your mom confirmed everything, she obviously green-lighted the home visit and gave us a bunch of dates that work for them. Now, I know that’s going to be a challenging part of the—”
“Nope.” I shook my head vigorously as I interrupted him. “I have zero time to fly home. Every minute between now and when I leave is accounted for. Doing this interview is enough of a distraction.”
“Yeah, when Kim asked me about going to Connecticut I tried going to bat for you, because I had a feeling you wouldn’t want to do it based on everything you told me in Switzerland. I couldn’t come out and give Kim the full story, so I was stuck. I tried coming up with excuses for why it won’t work, but it turns out your mom has an ace up her sleeve to get you home.”
“I’d love to see her try it,” I said and fumed at her overreach. I picked up speed, so that Ben had to do the same to keep up with me. “There is absolutely nothing that I need in Connecticut.”
Ben did a quick turn to skate backward in front of me, expertly weaving through the two tween girls hovering nearby with just inches to spare.
“She asked me to tell you. Your driver’s license is going to expire while you’re in Italy, and you’re still registered in Connecticut.”
I sputtered for a few seconds. “How do you... how does she...”
But I didn’t have to ask how my mom knew when my license expired because she used to micromanage every aspect of my life. What shocked me is thatI’dlet it slip through the cracks in the time since I’d gained control.
“I’ll renew online,” I said. I skated a little faster still.
“Can’t,” Ben replied, still gracefully navigating his way backward through the other skaters. “She said that you need to have a new photo taken. You could probably move your primary residence to Colorado to avoid the trip back, but that opens up other challenges.”
I hated to admit that there were tax implications for me having my family home still listed as my primary residence. I’d untangled as much as I could four years prior, but there were still elements that tied me to my parents.
“I have my passport.”
“You need two valid forms of ID at Olympic Village. Security is tight as hell,” Ben replied, sounding apologetic.
“Fuck,” I muttered as reality sunk in.
“Honestly, it might help to have us with you as backup, if you have to go,” Ben suggested. “I can run front for you.”
He had a point. My spotlight-obsessed mom would probably focus all her energy on looking perfect for the camera instead of criticizing me. My dad would just show up and be country club charming, as usual.
“This is thelastthing I need.”
“I know,” Ben agreed. “It sucks, but think about how shitty it would’ve been if you’d gotten to a checkpoint and discovered it was expired then?”
“Yeah, thanks, Mom,” I said wryly.
My stomach twisted at this latest addition to my schedule. I felt like the control I so desperately needed was slipping away at the worst possible time.
“When?” I demanded.
“Kim is working on the exact timing with her, but it looks like it’ll be two weeks from now.”
There was no good time to go home, but doing it so close to my departure was downright criminal.
Ben fell in line beside me again. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. I’d already given him plenty of access to my dumpster fire backstory; there was no need to add more kindling.From this point on I was all sound bites, all the time. They might think I’d grantedThe Scorean all-access pass to my life, but I was pretty good at micromanaging as well.
