With a brisk nod Laura says, “I’m officially lowering my expectations.”
I smile, and it feels beyond amazing to see her smile back. And then I’m on the ice where everything always feels amazing. I have to modify my routine a little to accommodate the other skaters, but I still get in some of the more impressive elements and I land my jumps so cleanly that a couple little girls clap. From there I enter into a layback spin bending my head as far back as I can while holding my free leg in an attitude position before grabbing my blade and pulling it up over my head to finish in a Biellmann spin. I didn’t stretch as much as I should have before heading onto the ice, so my back protests the extreme bend when I try to hold the spin for more than five rotations. But if Laura notices me shortchanging the spin, she doesn’t react; in fact she turns away almost as soon as I straighten.
“Laura?” I call from the ice, before skating to her. She doesn’t face me again until I stop at the other side of the half wall.
Her eyes are swimming when she lifts her head. “When I told you before to send in your audition I just—I thought maybe you wouldn’t be as good as you used to be.”
My eyes dart back and forth between hers. “That’s not why I brought you here,” I say over the lump forming in my throat. “I wanted to show you that I don’t needStories on Iceto still skate.” The lump swells. “I don’t want it anymore.”
She nods, blinking a little too fast. “The audition deadline is in a little over a week?”
“Yes, but—”
“You have to send one in.”
For a second I think she’s forgotten what that could mean. If they cast me, I’ll be touring right after I graduate. Depending on the show, I could be away for six, even eight months of the year. That thought isn’t any less painful now that I know the depths of Jason’s guilt and that my family has begun the long and difficult journey of healing together. It might be more so. I know just how much Laura needs me, wants me, how much I need her.
“That doesn’t matter anymore.” I try to catch her eye but her gaze moves back to the ice and the people skating past me, and she sucks in a breath.
“You have to try so I won’t feel like it’s my fault that your life is over too.”
“It is not your fault,” I say with enough power behind my voice that she starts. “Any of it.” I’ve been saying that to her nonstop since finding out she witnessed Jason’s crime—we all have—but I know she still blames herself.
Her gaze slides back to mine. “But if you don’t audition, that will be.”
Saturday comes both slowly and quickly. A knock on my door wakes me in the morning, but it’s not Mom’s soft tap, it’s Dad’s loud double rap. I dash out of bed to open it, almost tripping when the sheet tangles around my ankle, and find Dad staring down at me.
“You visiting your brother today?”
My sleep-addled brain hasn’t fully awoken, but I force my thoughts to clear. I’ve been trying not to think about Jason and instead focus on Mom, Dad and Laura, but I always knew I’d go back today. I have to see my brother again, to look him in the eye knowing full well what he did. “I—Yes, sir.”
Dad nods and turns back down the hall. I call after him.
“Is Mom coming?”
“Not this time.” That’s all he says before heading down the stairs, leaving me to turn my head and stare at their closed bedroom door at the far end of the hall.
I dress as quickly as I can and go in pursuit of Dad and answers, but Laura is the one I find in the kitchen, and the soft whir of power tools coming from the basement tells me Dad won’t be joining us anytime soon.
My heart starts thudding in my chest seeing Laura. She’s never in the kitchen on Saturday mornings. She knows what those are.
“Where’s Mom?” I ask, moving slowly toward the island where Laura is sitting with a mostly untouched bowl of cereal. She jumps at the sound of my voice, kicking my pulse even higher. She can’t mean...to come visit Jason too?
Laura reaches for her spoon like it’s some alien tool she’s never seen before. “Dad said he needed another pair of hands today.” She stirs her cereal.
“He what?” I turn to look at the basement door. “When has Dad ever—” I break off when I turn back and see Laura staring at me.
“She’s downstairs with him right now, so, you know, she can’t go with you today. It’s just you.”
I join Laura at the island and look at the empty counter in front of me. “So I can see Jason alone.”
“If that’s what you want.” Laura keeps stirring her cereal. “Is it?”
Is it? There aren’t any more confessions to extract from him, but I’ll admit, if only to myself, that I’m relieved Mom isn’t coming. Laura isn’t looking at me when I glance at her. I’m glad her only role this morning is that of messenger and not visitor. I can’t bear the thought of having to sit by and watch Laura see him for the first time since his imprisonment, or him her.
But the answer is no, I’m dreading this, and the thought of going alone is torturous, regardless of it being the best—and only—of my available options. I move to slide off the stool, but Laura’s hand on mine holds me in place.
“You don’t have to go. If you don’t want to. I think—I think that was one of the reasons Dad needed help today.” So I wouldn’t have to endure Mom’s wounded reaction if I decided I was done visiting my brother, is what she means.
