When her phone chimed with a text message, her heart raced, anticipating it being from Ben.
Sure enough, when Amelia looked at her screen, there was a message from him. She’d thought he might send an actual message, but he hadn’t. However, she wasn’t too disappointed because there were a couple of extra emojis as part of his message.
In addition to the prayer hands and the heart, there was a beaming smile emoji and another smiley face with hearts all around it.
She couldn’t help but smile in response. It was so tempting to tap the screen to call him, but something was holding her back. A bit of uncertainty over whether she was just riding an emotional high over what had happened the previous day.
The true test would come when she had a rough day. A day when her pain and fatigue made normal life impossible. If she could face that day and still praise the Lord, then she’d know that it was more than just an emotional moment.
Still, she was hopeful.
Instead of phoning Ben, she placed a call to Tracy, wanting to share with her what had happened. After talking with her for about twenty minutes, she called Layla.
Her parents had been so patient with her, as had Layla. And they deserved to know about this latest turn of events. They deserved to know that the dark hallway she’d insisted on walking down alone was now filled with light.
“Oh, sis,” Layla exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you. You’ve had us so worried.”
“I know,” Amelia said. “And I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize. I know things have been terribly rough on you for the past couple of years.”
“They have,” Amelia agreed. “But I let myself wallow in my situation for too long.”
“Well, all that matters is that you’ve pulled yourself out of it.”
“With the help of Mrs. Simmons. Thank you for recommending her to me.”
“Want to come by later?” Layla asked. “Maybe for supper? I’d love to give you a squish.”
Amelia laughed. “Okay. I’ll be there.”
“Five-thirty, since we have to get the kids to bed at a decent hour for church tomorrow.”
After promising to be there, Amelia ended the phone call.
Putting her phone down, she leaned over and picked up her sketchpad from the coffee table, along with the zippered bag that held her drawing supplies.
Part of what she’d done over the past couple of months was to force herself to find a creative outlet. To revisit those things that had once brought her joy.
First, she’d begun listening to music again. It was something she’d stopped doing because she’d had a hard time not envisioning skating programs in her mind when she’d listen to certain types of music.
Prior to her retirement, the programs she’d seen in her mind when listening to music had always been for her own skating. She couldn’t handle it after she’d stopped skating, so she’d limited the type of music she listened to.
When she’d begun to listen to that music again recently, however, the programs that came to life in her mind were simpler. More suitable for younger skaters. In her mind, she saw little girls with their hair pulled back in ponytails. Little girls, like she’d once been, eager to learn new jumps and spins. To fly across the ice. To dance.
That was no longer her present or her future.
But maybe she could help other little girls realize their dreams the way Lexi had helped her achieve hers. She wouldn’t be able to actually train skaters the way Lexi did, but she could help with choreography.
And she could help with costume design.
They were both things she’d planned on doing once her career as a competitive skater was over. She had just rejected them after her early retirement because that wasn’t what she’d wanted to be doing then. She’d wanted to be skating.
But part of accepting her diagnosis had been accepting her retirement. And in doing that, she could finally move into the phase of her life she’d always planned to have, just on a different timeline.
She hadn’t talked to Lexi yet. There was still some hurt there because she hadn’t believed Amelia when she’d told her what she was experiencing. Amelia knew Lexi hadn’t meant to upset her, and she also knew that part of moving forward would be trying to repair that relationship.
Amelia flipped open the sketchbook, pausing on a skating costume design she’d been working on. It was a flowing, gauzy dress in a variety of shades of blue and highlighted with silver. It was a dress that someone skating to a piece of classical music might wear.
