Black Ice

by Camille Mackenzie

  “I didn’t come all this way for nothing. You’re doing the interview.” Auntie Carrie shouts.

  “You treat her like a puppet. Her mother would be disgusted by you.”

  “By me? Can you believe this man, Sage? Would your mother be disgusted by how I raised you? How I have supported you?”

  Shut up. Shut up. Both of them. Shut the hell up.

  “Auntie…I’m just so tired tonight.”

  Her face contorts from sad to angry in a matter of seconds. She takes my words as me siding with Dean. And all I’m trying to avoid is a longer ride down the guilt trip express. The horrid look in her eyes tells me, it’s too late. Beneath everyone’s accusing stare, tears spring to Auntie Carrie’s eyes. Somebody save the seats and grab a tub of popcorn. The curtain’s been called. The tickets have been accounted for. And now, the show is really about to start.

  “Your mother asked me to do all I could for you.” She sniffs, her shoulders visibly shaking.

  The guilt I feel whenever she brings up my mother, slices through my chest. I want to bite my aunt’s head clean off, but all that anger dissipates to nothing when she brings up Mom. The only thing that could make it worse is talking about him.

  “It’s not like your father cared enough to be here. He left my sister the moment she got pregnant. Making pit stops with you and your mom as if you were second thoughts.”

  Dean shakes his head. We all know what’s she’s doing. It’s been apart of her game for years. Without my aunt, none of this would have been possible. Skating is my life and it help me through the years when Momma was sick. When everything turned upside I still had skating. She knows that. It’s her favorite weapon to use.

  “And I tried and tried to give you—”

  “Alright. I’ll do it.”

  “No, don’t do me any favors. You’re an adult now. But just remember a few things. Those skates you have on your feet, five grand a year. Skating lessons, personal training, sports psychology: thirty thousand a year easily—”

  “Auntie Carrie please...I said that I would do it.”

  I look to Dean for help. But as usual he only goes so far before he eventually backs down.

  “Ice time, Ballroom, Choreography, Ballet: Fifteen thousand a year!”

  “I get it.” My heart drops. And with it ever ounce of energy that I thought I had to argue with her.

  “Your costumes, practice clothes, travel and accommodation! I pay for all of that. Me! Close to a hundred grand a year for your dream. Not my dream. Your—”

  “THAT’S ENOUGH!”

  I clear my throat. I’m mentally going through the best costumes I have when I hear Yuri’s voice. Yuri’s deep voice hits across the room like a shockwave to us all. I look up at him. His dark eyes settle on mine and they flash ominously before turning back to the people standing along the rink. Just by the way he stands a clear foot taller over everyone in the room, makes him look intimidating. And add on the unyielding Russian accent; he is damn right menacing.

  “You’re all insane. I wouldn’t compete under these circumstances, if it meant my life. In fact, I won’t. And neither will Sage.” He points to Auntie Carrie. “She is competing in Singles. You may not make any decisions on your own from this point without consulting us first. And now you may go.”

  That’s it. No one knows how to react. We all exchange looks of bewilderment. As it seems, Yuri has spoken and even my aunt isn’t willing to argue with the finality in his voice. At least not for the moment.

  “Dean, take her home. That is least you can do…Sage,” He commands my attention away from the scowl on Auntie Carrie’s face. “We will continue practice at later time. Go home. Now.”

  “I-I” I look around. No one is arguing. Everyone is finally silent. Once again, it’s Yuri to my rescue.

  “Okay.” I softly reply. “Goodnight.”

  “Goodnight, little bird.”

  He wants to say something more. It’s in the slight twitch of his tight square jaw. But he clamps his lips together and turns away from me.

  I’m still looking at Yuri, when I see Dean’s outstretched hand from the corner of my eye. I should thank him for handling my Aunt the way he did. He can’t possibly know how much I appreciate getting away from her. Instead I reach for Dean without my usual concern for my right arm. I can feel the material peel up to my elbow and expose me. A dozen horizontal lines cross my skin A few are old and are just faint dark lines. But most are still fresh and hurt against the chilled air in the rink.

  I yank my arm to me and smile at Dean. Relief washes over me when I see him looking over at Yuri. Yuri. My head whips in his direction. He hasn’t noticed either, he’s getting an eye roll from my cousin Aspen. That just leaves my Aunt. Reluctantly, I meet her unreadable gaze. It’s too hard to tell if she saw anything. She’s seems to be still stuck in a stupor after Yuri put an end to her plan.

  “Come on, sweetheart,” Dean helps me off the ice. “Let’s get you home.”

  “Unless there is something else Queen Sage needs.” Aspen mocks from afar.

  Auntie Carrie steps between us. “Shut up Aspen.”

  I step down and keep my head low as I slip on my skate guards. Freedom is just a wobble away and I can go home and get away from all of this. That’s how I walk on my skate guards, like I’m finally free. But the shock has worn itself off. Auntie Carrie stops me with a strong hand around my wrist.

  “Call me when you get home.”

  Behind us, Yuri grunts into the air. I can feel the heat rolling off his body from here. I don’t need to look up to know that his eyes blaze down at me as I nod at my aunt. He doesn’t understand what it’s like for me. He has a happy, functional family. One, where you owe me isn’t the subliminal message behind everything they do for you. And like it or not, this is the family that I’ve got. This is the woman who took care of me when my mother couldn’t and my father wouldn’t.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Alright, go get some rest nah.”

  “Goodnight Auntie.”

  When I kiss her lifted cheek, Yuri is moving his gaze to me. It’s a good thing that he can’t read minds. Or he’d know that I’m still reeling from the effects of that dance. That moving with him on the ice brought me to life. And that I feel as if I am losing something in the absence of his touch. Before my eyes betray me and reveal those secret thoughts, I break our gaze and quietly follow behind Dean.

  Chapter 9

  Yuri

  Getting rid of the reporter isn’t difficult. She has a one-track mind and it leads to me. Or so she hopes. I convince her that if an interview does happen, she will be the first to know. Walking back to my car, I’m proud of myself. I know that it will make Sage happy. Our ice dance was intimate. It wasn’t meant for anyone else to see.

  Getting rid of Sage’s aunt is the real trouble. As I cross the dark parking lot, I notice her car has been pulled up to mine. I’m still a good fifty feet away when she starts getting out of the passenger side. My fingers grip the keys tightly, so that the metal ridges cut into my palm. The woman rubs me the wrong way. It isn’t just about the way she controls Sage. It’s the way she feels entitled in doing so. I’m reminded of a warning my mother once gave me. Beneath calm waters, the devil dwells. I don’t trust Carrie Glover. She’s using Sage and she doesn’t love her the way she should.

  “Do you always get your way Mr. Meshkov.” She asks me as I step pass her to my vehicle.

  I grunt. “Usually.”

  “And do you always get what you want?”

  “Usually.”

  “I suppose, my niece falls into the category of what you want.”

  I can’t help the lump that lodges in my throat or the way my heart suddenly races. These last few days with Sage have been some of the hardest of my life. I’ve forced my way back into her life and now more than ever, I really hate the way that I left things between us. I want to be with her. And I’ll accept whatever form that takes although deep down I want to be more. B
ut that’s my secret. And one dance on the ice with her and I may have exposed it to the wrong person.

  “You don’t have to look so surprised, Mr. Meshkov. What I saw tonight wasn’t my first clue. No, no I remember you. I remember the way you two were back in the day. You’re as in love with her now as you were then.”

  Determined to neither confirm nor deny anything, my eyes bounce from Carrie Glover to her daughter, looking on from the driver’s seat. When our gazes meet, Aspen casts her eyes down immediately. This feels wrong. And I don’t need her to tell me. I can read the situation.

  “What do you want, Mrs. Glover?”

  “I want you to compete in Pairs with Sage.”

  “No.” I remark throwing my gym bag into the back seat of my truck.

  “No?” her pink bottom lip quivers in shock.

  I take it that hearing that word really boils her blood. Good. The sight of her and the way she has treated Sage all these years, boils mine. She takes one look at her niece and her eyes light up into dollar signs; Just like the cartoons that I watched as a boy.

  “You have to.” She plants her foot firmly on the ground. “I saw her tonight. She’s a better skater with you. Happier even. If the two of you compete together, you’d bring home Gold—your third Gold medal.”

  “I don’t care about that.” I shrug. “Understand something, Mrs. Glover, I came here for Sage. Not for you, or the money. I will compete with her, only if she wants me to. And if she really doesn’t then I will leave.”

  My car door slamming in the cold night causes Aspen’s head to swivel around. She looks between her mother and I trying to read the situation. But I’m done here. Anything else that she has to say, can be said to—

  “Sage, tried to kill herself. Less than a year ago.”

  My body goes ridged hearing those words. Then my heart seems to plummet into the pit of my stomach. I narrow my eyes at her, unwillingly to let myself expose my thoughts to her or make her aware that I was there that night.

  “So, you know then?” She draws a deep, audible breath. “Of course, you do. She tells you everything. Doesn’t she? You probably knew before any of us that she was having a difficult time. And you just let her—,”

  “Don’t play your mind games with me. You know damn well that I didn’t know she wanted to kill herself. I wouldn’t have let it get that far if I had.”

  I’m seething. My entire body is shaking but it has nothing to do with the cold air surrounding us.

  “She needs help and you won’t let her get it.”

  “I won’t let her get it? Yuri she is a grown woman. I can’t stop her from doing anything.”

  “You know what you’ve done. You’ve denied her of help for so long, that the very idea scares her to death. Half the time she doesn’t even think there is something wrong.” I clench my fist at my sides. “Then you hold your love for her hostage, like she has to earn it.”

  “Right blame me. Everyone else does. But I’m the only one looking out for her and her future. Dean is the one using her. He’s obsessed with her. He treats her like she’s her mother. I admit, years ago I was wrong. But I tried to get her help. Dean wouldn’t hear of it.”

  Two versions of the same story. Both claim that they tried to help her and yet I have serious doubts that either of them really did.

  “Do you know how she deals with this?” She asks rhetorically. “You do, don’t you Yuri? She takes a razor blade and she slices up her arm.”

  I shake my head. I see the cuts in my head. I feel the words I wanted to ask earlier. But I wanted to believe that she was getting better. I wanted to come back and find her healthier and happier. But she is more lost than before. I still want to believe that although I left, she was able to get help.

  “You know about the cutting too.”

  “Yes. I had my suspicions that she’d started up again, but I wasn’t sure until today. I saw Sage’s arm when Dean helped her off the ice. It’s bad Yuri.”

  My voice cracks. “She needs to go to a hospital.”

  “I’ve tried that. When I first noticed the marks on her arm and confronted her about them. Sage wouldn’t tell me why she was doing it, but she swore to stop. And she did for a while, but she’s stressed. And that’s how she copes.”

  “And whose fault is that?!” My voice matches the hardness of my gaze.

  Carrie chuckles to herself and shakes her head. “I know, I know. Blame me again. But this ain’t all me. She’s an Olympic athlete, full-time college student, orphan. Her parents didn’t leave her a dime so everything, from the drawers she wears, to the roof over her head, to what it cost to hire an Olympic nutritionist, and trainers month after month, my husband and I pay for.” She stands slightly taller with her chest puffed out.

  “We do that, for her. Two old people who should be retired somewhere. But that’s what family do. We support one another.”

  “If she is cutting herself—if she is stressed you are not helping her, you hurt her. Demand after demand. All in the name of family.”

  “I’ve tried to get her help. Right before her showing at the Grand Prix. It only made things worse. She needs to win. That is her medicine. That is her happiness.”

  “Then she can win in PyeongChang on her own.”

  “She can’t. And if she doesn’t that’s it. There’s nothing left. No money, which means no school and no job. Nothing.”

  “Do you hear yourself?” I seethe. “I talk about her health. You talk about money.”

  “Sage is like her mother. She thrives from being center stage. Now, I’ve gotten three offers to do a movie about her. Netflix and HBO have thrown their hat into the ring as well. They’re all willing to do it if, she competes in Pairs with you and wins Gold.”

  Exasperated, I lean onto my vehicle. “You want the money.”

  “No, I get nothing. Sage isn’t underage, she would get all the rights. This could be really good for her, Yuri. Her parents left her with nothing. My husband and I have been doing the best we can, but it won’t be enough in the long run. This could keep her comfortable. Help her pay for school. She needs this.”

  “Even if I believed you, why are you bringing this to me? You should be talking to your niece.”

  “Sage can’t know. She has enough on her shoulders and this will just add to the stress. She needs to be able to compete at her highest potential. And if she finds out before either of those production companies are ready to draw up real papers it could ruin the deal. Please. Yuri, this could be what she needs.”

  “If you are truly worried for Sage then you would do well to stop adding to her load. I don’t care what you say, or how you say it, you are her greatest problem. Helping her would mean breaking this hold you have on her. You will step back. No more commercials. No more reporters, unless Sage says so.

  Carrie shakes her head at me. But I remain firm. At least a full minute goes by before she throws her arms in the air and admits defeat.

  “Fine. But there is one more thing.”

  My ears perk up in the somber cold, September night. I wait for her request. Inside the pocket of my jacket, my knuckles are white from my apprehension of her next words.

  “It’s about Dean. I don’t trust him.”

  “You don’t trust him.” I repeat skeptically. “Why?”

  “It’s true, I was interested in him when we were younger. But he didn’t care for me that way. But Elizabeth…he doted after her—the same way he does Sage. He’s obsessed. It’s disgusting.”

  I scrutinize the look of concern on her face. It’s hard to read. She could be sincere or this could all be another play in her game.

  “I know, everyone paints me as the villain. I’ll be the villain. But the monster, is him. And he’s just waiting for his opportunity. All I’m asking is that you look out for her.”

  I nod and get into my vehicle quickly. It’s already started up and peeling out of the parking lot before Carrie can get into hers. I won’t take her word for anything. I need to
see Sage. Tonight. It has to be tonight. I won’t do anything until I know for myself. Because if Sage needs me, I’m here for her. Brother. Protector. Lover or Friend. I’ll be whatever she needs. Always will be.

  Sage

  It feels like I’m in the air still. My body twists with tight confidence, knowing that my safety net is there. Skating beneath me with his arms open to catch and cradle me in their strength…

  “You look like your mother, when you do that.” Dean says suddenly.

  My eyes fly open and I struggle to reorient myself. I was just two seconds from a deep sleep with my mouth hanging open and my forehead pressed to the window. The drive from the facility to my apartment is pretty short but I’m exhausted.

  “Elizabeth used to fall asleep after practice all the time, when I drove her home. She was like sleeping beauty—if sleeping beauty snored like a fog horn.”

  “My mom didn’t snore!”

  “She sure did, and it was God awful. Once, I recorded her and played it back, so she could hear how bad it was. She punched me square in the jaw for that one.” Dean shrugs and gives me a quick wink. “It was worth it though. The look on her face…priceless.”

  I smile at him sleepily. No one talks about Mom like Dean. He has a way of making her feel magical to me. I think it’s in his voice. The way it changes and goes nostalgic. He was her coach too and they were good friends. When I lived with him and his family, Dean and I would talk about her a lot. It was good for the both of us. Like medicine for our broken hearts. It’s why I really miss living together.

  His wife, Angela treated me as well as can be expected. Up until last year I was starting to feel close to them. But without my knowledge everything changed. Angela and Kennedy began to hate me. Eventually my presence was causing too many issues. I knew what things would come down to and I couldn’t bear the look in his eyes if he had to ask me to leave. So I left before the gavel came down.

  “Sage?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you alright since you’ve been on your own. I get worried.”

  I nod and play with the edge of my jacket. I’ve cast enough ripples in Dean’s otherwise quiet life. I don’t want to cause waves. It’s why I left. It’s why I continue to put up with my aunt. I don’t want to be someone else’s burden. Especially someone I’m not related to.