by Elicia Hyder
“Yes, ma’am. Something like that,” I said staring past her head out the window at the Batman Building in the distance.
“I haven’t seen growth like this since the initial social-media boom of the early 2000s.” She crossed her arms. “To what do you attribute your success?”
I put my hands in my lap and stared at the floor a moment. “I’m good at my job,” I finally said. “I work really hard to find out what’s working in our market and in other markets, then I test it out and monitor success.”
“Is that what you did here?” she asked, handing me a sheet of paper with a printed version of Jake Barrett’s ticket sales ad with the Atomic Turquoise truck.
“Yes. We started with four different versions of the ad. I monitored which one was selling the most tickets, then pulled the budgets from the other three and fed them into this one. We can also retarget to the people who clicked on the ad, but didn’t complete their purchase.”
She was quiet for a beat. Then she took off her glasses and laid them by her keyboard. “I hired you to post on social media and draft emails.” She lifted the stack. “This work is so far above and beyond your job description that I’m not even sure how we ever managed without you.”
Please advise? She couldn’t have said anything to shock me any more.
Audrey let the stack drop with a heavy thud. “And I owe you an apology, Lucy. The success of Jake’s video is to no one else’s credit but yours. I was wrong to try and take that away from you, and I’m sorry.”
When I smiled, tears spilled down my cheeks. I laughed and wiped them away. “I thought you were going to fire me.”
She folded her hands on top of the papers. “Quite the opposite, actually. I was thinking of giving you a raise and an intern.”
“Really?”
“Really. I can only imagine what other ideas you could come with if you have someone running all these detailed reports.”
I wanted to leap across the desk and hug her. I didn’t, however.
“Thank you, Audrey.”
“No, Lucy. Thank you.”
*
After work, I drove to the Sweatshop. The parking lot was full, so I parked across the street and pulled my jacket tight around me as I crossed the gravel lot. For the first time that fall, it was cold enough to see my breath.
The door’s hinges creaked when I pulled it open, and almost every face in the room whipped toward me. There were more members of the Music City Rollers present than I’d ever seen at one time before. And they all looked so different than when they were ready for a game or practice. A lot of them were dressed for their day jobs. Maven was in khakis and a purple polo shirt bearing Hope Haven’s logo. Styx was wearing old cargo pants and a T-shirt covered in paint. Doc Carnage was in hospital scrubs. Shamrocker looked exactly the same.
Medusa wasn’t there.
The Duchess was standing in front of the group. My entrance had obviously interrupted her. “This meeting is for official team members only,” she said.
I waved. “I know. I won’t stay. I’d just like to say something, if I can.”
“This isn’t a court of law,” Maven snapped.
I looked at The Duchess. “Please?”
Her head bowed slightly. “Make it quick.”
My stomach churned as I walked over beside her. “Hi, everyone. Some of you may not know me, but my name is Lucy Cooper. I’m the Fresh Meat recruit who had the incident on Monday with Medusa.” I swallowed, and it echoed in my ears. “I heard there’s a vote tonight that will decide her future with the team.” I took a deep breath. “I’d like to ask you all to vote to let her stay.”
Whispers fluttered through the crowd.
I held up one finger. “One bout. That was all it took for this sport to become the thing I wanted more than anything else in this world. From that first night I knew I wanted to be part of this family, and now I feel like it’s about to be torn apart because of me.”
The Duchess shook her head. “It’s not because of you. It’s because there was a violation of our Code of Conduct.”
“Yes, Medusa intentionally came after me with more force than necessary because she was angry over a misunderstanding. But will my future bout opponents come at me with any less intensity than what she did? Her hit would have been legal had I not fallen forward.”
I looked around at all the faces in the crowd. “Medusa is one of the very best skaters in the world. Please don’t let a few laps skated in anger and an accident-prone newbie terminate that. This is one of the best experiences of my life, and I don’t ever want to regret putting on my first pair of skates.”
Silence.
I offered a weak smile to The Duchess. Then I turned toward the exit. As I neared the door, the applause began. Slowly at first, then everyone joined in. The Music City Rollers were clapping and cheering—for me. I looked back and waved, then smiled as I walked out of the room.
*
Olivia texted later that night with the official report from Styx. The Rollers voted for Medusa to stay, but she lost her position as team captain. A new captain would be voted in at the next team meeting in November.
After work Friday, I left Nashville and headed west on I-40 to Riverbend. It was the first time I’d made the trip since Dad’s backyard wedding to Katherine at the end of summer. I parked next to her car in the driveway.
At the front door, my hand automatically reached for the doorknob, then froze midair. This wasn’t my house anymore. I pressed the doorbell instead.
Ethan opened it. “What are you doing, weirdo?”
I smiled.
“Geez! Your face!” he shouted, taking my overnight bag from me. “Dad said you had a shiner, but holy hell, that’s terrible!”
I followed him into the quiet house. “Where is everyone?”
“Out back. Dad’s grilling burgers and there’s a fire for s’mores after dinner.”
I was only half listening. My brain was trying to process my old but very new surroundings. The living room was definitely taupe. And the couch was now chocolate instead of lavender. New sensible tan curtains hung in the place of Mom’s butterfly drapes, and our old coffee table with cigarette burns and baby-teeth marks had been replaced with a brown leather ottoman. It was all very modern and tasteful and clean. Very domestic. Very plain.
Very different from the cheerful whimsy that had colored my childhood.
My bottom lip trembled.
Ethan’s arm curled around me, pulling my head against his bony shoulder. “She’s really gone,” I choked out between my noisy whimpers that echoed around the stale living room.
He reached for a framed photo on the end table by Dad’s recliner. “Not completely.”
Me and Mom just a few days before she went to the doctor.
It was a particularly hideous picture of me. No makeup. A zit the size of Mount St. Helens on my chin. Wearing a sweatshirt with horizontal stripes. But in it, my mother’s bright smile was fixed securely in place. Something she never lost over the excruciating seventy-eight days that followed.
The best and worst seventy-eight days of my life.
“There are pictures of her all over the house,” Ethan said. “Katherine insisted. Said it would be good for you and me.”
I sniffed and returned the photo to its place on the table. Then I tugged on my little brother’s shirt. “Come on. I’m hungry.”
When we stepped onto the screened-in porch, I paused for a moment to admire the view. Golden rays glistened off the water as the sun sank behind the evergreens across the wide waters of the Tennessee River.
“Is your sister here?” I heard Katherine ask below.
I stepped into view at the top of the stairs and waved. “Right here!”
Dad waved a spatula from his post at the smoky gas grill. “Come on! I’ve got a burger with your name on it!”
Katherine rose from her lawn chair to greet me. Golden-gray hair framed her face, and she wore black pleated pants and a cowl-neck sw
eater. Her lipstick was a deep raspberry maroon, and her knockoff designer sunglasses had tortoiseshell frames.
She didn’t remind me of Mom.
I hugged her. “Hi, Katherine.”
“We’ve missed you, Lucy.” Her second squeeze to punctuate the hug made me believe her. “Your dad’s heart has had a hole only you can fill. Did you have a good drive in?”
I nodded. “No rain. Little traffic. No complaints here.”
She smiled. “Well, complaints wouldn’t do you any good anyway. What did you think about the changes in the house? I hope they weren’t too jarring for you.”
“It’s very different,” was the nicest response I could muster.
She looked at my dad. “It was very necessary since someone quit smoking.”
I blinked. “Dad, you quit smoking?”
“Two months now,” he said. “Didn’t want to say anything in case I couldn’t do it.”
That, I understood.
His spatula dripped grease on my shoulder when he pulled me into a hug. “Welcome home, Lulabean. Do you want cheese on your burger?”
After dinner, I walked down to the dock, which jutted out like a splinter into the vast river. It was lit with tiki torches, the same kind that had set Jake Barrett on fire the weekend before. I wished it was warmer so I could kick off my shoes and dip my toes in the water.
Up the river to my right, moonlight flickered off the choppy water as far as I could see into the night. To my left, the river seemed to end where the city lights danced beyond the trees at the water’s edge. But I knew that’s not all there was. That old river curved around the bend, meandering its way in horseshoe hook turns through the vast unknown. It kept on flowing.
So would I.
Laughter floated down the river bank behind me.
So would we.
*
“Hey!” Ethan called from the living room. “Does anyone know someone who drives a black truck?”
I jumped up from my seat, bumping the table and causing Dad to dribble black coffee down his white T-shirt. He swore. “Sorry, Dad!” I ran to the living room’s front window and pulled back the brown curtains.
A black truck was coming down the driveway toward the house. I gripped Ethan’s arm and squealed with excitement.
“What? Who is it?” he asked.
It wasn’t until the truck parked behind Katherine’s car that I realized it was too small to be West’s. The driver-side door opened, and a woman slid out of the cab.
My mouth fell open.
Ethan’s eyes strained. “Who is that?”
“Medusa.”
Dad yanked the curtains the rest of the way back. “The same Medusa who hit you?” I hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up from the table.
My head fell to the side. “Yeah.”
He looked down at me. “Want me to handle this?”
I put my hand on his chest. “I doubt she drove all this way to finish the job. I’m going to go see what she wants.”
I walked to the front door. She was halfway up the front steps when I pulled it open. She froze and gave a small wave.
I stepped out the door and pulled it closed behind me. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Her black-and-pink hair was tied in a knot beneath a blue trucker’s hat with a beer logo on the front. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her blue jeans. “Can we talk?”
Perplexed, I nodded my head and started down the steps. “Come on. It’s a nice day. Let’s go around back.”
We walked in silence around the back of the house. I waited for her to speak.
“I heard what you did at the meeting.” She looked at the ground as she walked. “I came to say thank you, and I came to apologize.”
“You came all the way to Riverbend?”
She sighed and nodded. “I came all the way to Riverbend. Styx told me you were here. She got the address from your roommate.”
Leave it to Olivia to not give a girl a heads-up.
There were a few chairs left out from the bonfire the night before. I gestured to them, and we walked over and sat down.
“I’m sorry for what I did to you, Lucy. I recognized you at practice from the last bout. West was sitting with you in the crowd for part of it. But I didn’t connect the two until your faces kept popping up together online. I assumed he’d cheated on me with you and that you knew it. I was wrong.”
“I didn’t know he had dated you. And we just started seeing each other. He never cheated, at least not with me.”
Medusa shook her head. “West isn’t a cheater. I think he was going to break up with me after the last bout. Things had been off for a while, and he called the next day and said he wanted to talk.” She used air quotes. “But then I got the call about my mom, so he didn’t.” She stared at the ground. “He’s a good guy. He’ll be good to you.”
My mouth squished to one side. “I broke it off with him.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.” I pointed between us. “All this happened, and I don’t want anyone to think he’s giving me any kind of leverage to get on the team.”
She nodded. “Makes sense. I really hope you’ll forgive me, Lucy.”
“I already have.” I kicked my heels against the dead grass. “I get it. Acting a little nuts when your life is upside down. My mom died last year.”
She looked down. “Styx just told me you sent the gift basket. I felt even more like shit when I found out.”
“Yeah. I’ve been kicking myself since the hospital for not signing my name on that card.”
She laughed. “Is that why you joined the Rollers? You were feeling nuts?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but I think it was more to find out what I’m made of.”
She smiled. “As so eloquently stated on our flyer.”
“Yeah.”
We were quiet for a little while, then she stared out at the river. “I feel nuts. And who knows? Maybe I am.” She hugged her arms against the chill in the air. “Does it get easier?”
Good question. “Not really, but the pain evolves. It changes into something a little more manageable. I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks.” She looked over at me. “Styx said you’re thinking about not taking the skills test.”
My nose scrunched and I didn’t respond.
“Look at me.”
My eyes met hers.
“Let’s forget all the Medusa/Lucy drama for a minute. I’m speaking as a coach right now and your former”—she rolled her eyes—“team captain. You’ve got what it takes to make the team. I’ve watched you come a long way in the past few weeks. You’re good enough to pass.”
“There’s no way I’ll be judged fairly after everything. You know that,” I said.
“What if I get a retired skater to come judge you?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe. I still can’t hit twenty-seven laps in five minutes though.”
“Wanna hear a secret?” she asked.
I looked at her.
“I couldn’t pass my 27 in 5s at first either, and when I started skating, it was only 25 in 5s.”
“Seriously?” I asked.
“Yep. In fact, I was so bad when I started Fresh Meat my teammates nicknamed me Butterskates.”
My eyes bulged. “You? Really?”
She laughed. “Yes, really. Keep at it. You will get better.”
I raised an eyebrow. “By Saturday?”
“You’re so close. All you need to do is skate all week, every day, and build your endurance.” She straightened and looked around. “You brought your skates, right?”
I nodded.
She looked all around us. “So did I. Is there any place that’s paved in this podunk town?”
I thought for a second. “The park, back toward downtown.”
“There’s a downtown?”
I laughed.
She stood. “Come on. We’ll do this together.”
Twenty
On Friday, I followed up with a
general practitioner who was accepting new patients in an office near my apartment. She asked a million questions about the headaches, my memory, and any symptoms after exercise. When she was satisfied, she finally cleared me for skating.
After skating the park with Medusa, I skated every day that week, and by Saturday I felt ready—or as ready as possible, anyway.
When we were all geared up in the practice room, Grace pulled our little group into a huddle. We linked our arms around each other’s shoulders and put our helmets together.
“Girls,” she began, “we’ve worked hard to get here. Zoey has literally fought her way back from death. Monica has balanced back to school and our grueling schedule. Lucy didn’t die. And Olivia, well…screw you, Olivia.” We all burst out laughing. “No matter what happens today, I’m so glad we did this together. I love you, guys.”
“We love you too, Grace!” Monica said, kissing Grace’s cheek.
“Ready to do this?” Olivia asked, putting her hand inside the circle.
We piled our hands on top of hers.
“On the count of three, we yell Fresh Meat,” Zoey said. “One! Two! Three!”
“Fresh Meat!”
Shamrocker skated over. “Huddle up, Fresh Meat Bitches! Let’s get this party started!”
Everyone gathered around her. The group had whittled down to just thirteen remaining newbies. Across the room, the judges were seated in folding chairs. The Duchess was there. So was Full Metal Jackie, Kraken, Doc Carnage, Medusa…she caught my eye and pointed to Stone Cold Kelly. Medusa mouthed the words, “She’s got you.”
I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up.
They were all holding clipboards and pens and chatting among themselves.
“This is how it’s going to go down. Your skills test is divided into three parts. Basic skating skills and contact skating skills. The first test will begin with the dreaded 27 in 5s. Might as well get it over with, right?”
There was collective grumbling from our group.
“Part one will also include falling, stopping, and maneuvering. If you pass part one, then you move on to part two. Contact and game play. You’ll be judged on play-specific skills like whips, blocking, and hits.
