Zoey snorted softly. Her father valued ambition and self-discipline over natural gifts, believing that anything could be achieved if you just put in the time. He had enough inspirational quotes to launch his own line of Hallmark cards.
Mr. Chen pushed play and we all leaned closer to watch. The small-town news reporter appeared on-screen talking about a local skating wunderkind, then the grainy footage cut to a very young Ben out on the ice.
“So cute,” Mrs. Chen giggled when Ben appeared, doing a clumsy version of the glide stride that eventually won him gold.
I watched Ben watch himself, his mouth twisted in a half smile.
“Terribleform,” he laughed. “This is painful.”
“No, shh,” Mr. Chen scolded. “Listen to what your mother and father say.”
The footage cut to Ben standing in front of his parents, and I gasped at the resemblance to his handsome dad.
“This part,” Mr. Chen pointed at the screen.
“We believe in him,” Ben’s pretty mom, Cynthia, beamed as she clutched his shoulder. “This is his dream, and we’ll do everything possible to support him. When Benny sets his mind to something he achieves it, so we think he’s going to go all the way to the Olympics, if we’re lucky.”
“Benny,” I giggled and he made a face at me.
“And what happens when he grows a little bigger and decides that girls are more important than speed skating?” the reporter asked with an eyebrow waggle.
Ugh. I guess none of us were immune from stupid, sexist questions.
“I won’t,” Ben’s little voice squeaked out before she could answer, and they all laughed. “Nothing is better than speed skating!”
I laughed as well, way too hard, because “Benny” grew up and learned how to juggle both.
The clip ended and Mr. Chen rested his phone on the table.
“Did your parents push you?” Zoey asked. She rolled her head to give her dad a pointed look.
Ben considered it. “No, not really. Theysupportedme, but I pushed myself. It was a pretty healthy start, actually. They trusted my coaches, which allowed my parents to just be my fan club.” He smiled. “They’re still my biggest fans.”
He’d transformed during the conversation about the clip from a regular guy enjoying postdinner conversation to his public persona. I swore I could see tension behind his smile, which didn’t make sense considering we were discussing something positive.
“Why don’t we go to the TV room and watch some of Zoey’s old performances?” Mrs. Chen suggested. “She had raw talent at a young age as well.”
“Absolutelynot.” Zoey stood up abruptly. “We’re going for a walk. C’mon.”
She stomped out of the room leaving us no choice but to follow behind her.
It was one of those typically weird Colorado weather days, with schizophrenic temps that could convince you that spring was right around the corner even though the calendar told a different story.
“Your parents are amazing,” Ben said. “And your mom’s cooking? Damn.”
“Right?” Zoey agreed. “I’m pretty lucky.”
“We both are,” I added.
“Yeah, how exactly did you land with the Chens?” Ben asked me.
I kicked a rock out of my path. It was one of the few parts of my backstory that we didn’t get a chance to cover in Switzerland.
“We figured out that Woodspring was the right facility for me when I was eight, and my mom and I moved out to a temporaryapartment. She stayed with me for a year, but between her dance studio and my dad being helpless without her, she decided that she needed to split her time between here and Connecticut. Zo and I had become pretty close, so her parents stepped up and offered to let me move in with them, to continue my training.”
Zoey threw her arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side hug. “And I got the big sister I always wanted!”
Ben watched us for a few moments, like he was cataloging the interaction. “Are you sure your parents don’t want to do a quick interview, Zoey? It would really help round out the story.”
