I popped open the trunk to toss my things in. Rather than moving to do the same at his own car, Dom waited for me. When I’d slammed the lid shut, he said, “Do you remember what they said to me when we were first partnered together?”
“The first thing was who I was,” I said. The urge to make him smile was overpowering. I hated seeing him unhappy.
It worked, but barely. The corners of his mouth twitched up for a second before his sombre expression returned. “After that. About how it was my job to make sure that you were safe. That it was my job to take care of you.”
Warmth rushed through my chest. I felt like the Grinch, with my heart expanding against my ribs. “They meant on the ice,” I said, turning back to him. “It’s your job to take care of me when you’re lifting me, not all the time.” I grabbed his muscled forearm.
“I know,” he said softly. His thick eyelashes brushed his cheek as he fixated on my hand. “But I still feel protective of you off the ice. Not in a possessive, douchebag way like Brandon. But as a friend who has been with you almost every day for eight years. As your partner. Anyone who comes into our lives has to be ableto handle what we have. Because I’m not going anywhere. We are a team for life.” He rested his hand over mine protectively.
I felt a wave of emotion. “For life,” I repeated. There was no question. No one could break the bond we had. We rarely talked about anything this serious, but we didn’t need to. If I needed him, he would be there in a heartbeat and vice versa. “Thanks for looking out for me.” I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know how to phrase what I was feeling. How could you tell somebody how much they meant to you? I didn’t trust myself not to choke up.
Thankfully, he seemed to get it. “You just take care of yourself, okay?”
He didn’t go until I promised I would.
Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Suddenly,itseemedlikefall had arrived in full force. The leaves had changed, the school buses were back up and running, resulting in endless start and stop traffic in my neighbourhood, and I was thankful I had pulled out my sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. My wardrobe at the rink being appropriate everywhere meant I could get ready at home during the cooler weather.
Two days before we were going to skate for our families, Dom arrived at the rink with a soft-sided cooler bag slung over his shoulder. That was odd. He saw my inquisitive look and answered my unspoken question. “It’s from my mother. I am under strict instructions to give you two of the pies she dropped off at my place last night.”
My mouth watered at the thought. Dom’s parents lived close to an apple orchard. Every year, she made a massive batch of fresh apple pies and applesauce. She had started off giving a couple to my family a couple of years after Dom and I were first partnered up. Once I had moved into my own apartment, she added me to her list of apple pie recipients. And since the pies were largelymade up of apples, it felt less like cheating on my diet than other desserts.
Standing outside the rink in the cool fall air on Friday afternoon with my skating bags slung over my shoulder, I felt like a kid again. Back then, I had always stood in the same spot, slightly away from the other skaters at the entrance to the rink. That way, I was easy for my father to spot when he came to get me after work. He worked closer to where I practiced than my mom, so he usually had been the one to pick me up on his way home. Seeing his dark SUV pull into the lot brought me right back to those days, like I hadn’t been driving myself for the better part of three years.
He stopped directly in front of me and powered down the passenger-side window. “I’ll pop the trunk for you,” he said over the familiar music of the ’80 and ‘90s station he preferred.
I tossed my bags into the trunk with ease before climbing into the passenger seat. “Thanks for getting me today so I can have a couple of drinks.”
“Of course,” my father said, looking over his shoulder as he pulled away from the curb. “Are you ready for tonight?”
Not really, I thought, but I said, “I think so. The choreography is good, and we have been skating both programs pretty clean.” All true, but not the entire truth. It was the nature of the short program taking up so much space in my head, not the skate itself. I tried to think of the fact that my hours of worrying were ending. By the end of the night, everyone would have seen it. The first go around would be the most awkward. There was no question about it. But once they’d seen it, it would be done. Over. We would never have to deal with their reactions again.
My father nodded. He must have been expecting that answer. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d told him I wasn’t ready for a skate. Was it the first season with Dom? The nerves that nearly overwhelmed me before our first performance had taken me bysurprise. I had been good as a singles skater but not amazing. There had always been questions about whether I could beat the other girls I was competing against. That hadn’t made me nervous, though. On the contrary, I’d grown used to a feeling of determination in the lead up to a skate. It hadn’t taken long before I’d progressed to that self-assured state with Dom. I had just needed time to get used to him and to get to know the other pairs. My confidence in our abilities had remained unwavering ever since that first season together.
“Are your friends still coming?” he asked. He checked his blind spot before switching lanes to avoid a city bus.
“Yep, Alexis and Kendra,” I said. I had been texting them throughout the day. At first, it had been to make sure they remembered, but it had turned into catching up. “They both booked the night off so they could come.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen either of them since last year,” my father replied. “It’s quite a change, not having you three gossiping in your room or taking over the basement. Your mother and I keep thinking that something must be wrong. It’s so quiet with only one kid and his friends around.”
I relaxed back into my seat, enjoying the familiarity of this path of conversation. Whenever my mother picked me up from practice, I would have to answer question after question. What had we done that day? What did my coach or choreographer or the physiotherapist say? Was there anything we had been struggling with? She’d clearly felt guilty when her hours at work had increased and she wasn’t able to attend every practice, even though I didn’t mind. As I’d gotten older and made friends with the other high-level skaters who trained at the same rink, I’d appreciated not having her or my dad up in my business all the time. Whining that I didn’t want to talk skating all the time hadn’t swayed her. Dad, on the other hand, had been very receptive. “Not wanting to talk about work in your off hours,huh?” he mused, grinning at me when I’d announced I didn’t want to talk about practice on the way home. “How about we make a deal, then? You don’t ask me about my work and I won’t ask you about yours, at least not when we are in the car.”
When we got to my parents’ house, I tried to bring my bags out of the trunk, but Dad waved me off. “You go inside. I’ll get your stuff.”
“Thanks, Dad!” I called on the way in. My best stuff was all in those bags or at my apartment, but I had plenty of things in my old room. For something as casual as a skate in front of family and friends, it wouldn’t matter if my look wasn’t perfect. Rather than digging through my bags, I would just use my old things.
I kicked off my shoes in the entryway, leaving them next to my younger brother’s massive sneakers. “Hello,” I called into the quiet house.
The sound of a cupboard slamming shut reverberated before my brother’s heavy footsteps came closer. “Where’s Dad?” Isaac asked. He towered over me, so he could look straight over my head towards the front door.
“Getting everything out of the car.” I watched, half impressed and half disgusted, as he shoved most of a granola bar into his mouth at once. “Is Mom upstairs?”
He nodded, unable to speak with his overstuffed chipmunk cheeks. I squeezed past him and hurried up the stairs. I rapped my knuckles on the door to my parents’ room, just off the landing. The door was unlatched, so it swung open just enough for me to see inside. “Hi Mom,” I said, keeping my hand on the door handle to keep it from swinging in further. “I just wanted to say hi before I grabbed my stuff.”
My mother was standing in front of the mirror, putting on a pair of earrings. “You don’t need to rush. We have plenty of time. Are you ready for tonight?”
