Brenda wanted to scream. She wondered whether, if she looked around carefully, she’d find the camera and the group of people playing this tasteless joke on her. They’d pop up; everyone would have a good laugh, and then Scott would leave the rink. Joke over. But there was no camera.
Brenda clenched her teeth behind her lips.
Pamela studied her and stepped a little closer. “Is this going to be a problem?”
“Well, just a little,” Brenda said quietly but with extra sarcasm.
“Why? Because of your history with him? You’re going to have to do something you haven’t before, Brenda. You’re going to have to forget the past. You can keep thinking about how you used to skate. You can keep thinking of when you guys used to be friends, and you can stay stuck forever, or ... you can grow up and see what kind of adventure is in front of you. But make up your mind, and do it quick because I’ve got things to do.” Pamela stared unblinkingly at Brenda.
Brenda knew she wasn’t trying to be unkind, and that she was right. But the ego can be a very stubborn thing and not easy to bend.
Still clenching her teeth, Brenda stepped into the skaters’ corral. She was ready to leave. She wanted to run and not look back, but her skates prevented her from doing anything more than hobble her way toward the locker room.
“Brenda, wait!” Scott yelled. He looked at Pamela, raising his hands up and shrugging this shoulders. “Brenda!”
He was steadier on his feet and quickly caught up to Brenda before she disappeared into the girls’ locker room. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“What?” She stopped and looked at him as if he’d turned green. “You don’t really expect me to stick around? You, as my skating partner? It’s like a bad joke.”
Scott looked down at his skated feet. “Would you just sit with me for a minute? For just one minute?” His voice was soft and gentle.
Brenda wanted so badly to hate him. It would make everything so much easier. And she wanted to hate Pamela for this whole set-up. Instead, she took a seat on one of the benches at the edge of the hallway. It was ice cold through the fabric of her yoga pants.
The silence crept between them and, for a good three minutes, it wove its way in and around their bodies, making it impossible to talk.
Finally, Scott spoke. “I think it’s really brave of you to come back on the ice, Brenda. I’d be honored if you’d let me be your partner.”
“Be your partner? That’s a funny choice of words. I’m having a weird feeling of deja vu. I think you said that to me before, and we all know how that turned out.” Her voice was sharp and hard. “Are you going to leave me by myself again at some big competition to be humiliated and laughed at? And then come up with some amazing, fantastic excuse that you can’t tell me?” She folded her arms over her chest.
Scott looked at Brenda. “I know you’re still upset but—”
“Upset?” she spat. “Is that the word you think captures it?” She started to fumble with the laces on her left skate but only succeeded in making a good, strong knot. “Let me ask you something, Scott. Did you think it would break my heart or did you think I was just going to shrug my shoulders and say, ‘Oh, well, stuff happens’?”
Scott didn’t move. He didn’t make a sound.
“Did you think I’d be mad at everyone, even God, for letting this happen? Imagine blaming God for letting me feel something I thought was love. But it was only a bunch of smoke and mirrors. Or, as my dad would say, a lot of bull-should.”
“I wanted to tell you, Brenda. You have to believe that. But—”
“You wanted to tell me, but? But what?” Brenda’s voice had remained low and controlled.
Brenda stood up. She hadn’t gotten anywhere skating, and she hadn’t gotten anywhere with Scott. The only thing to do now was go.
“I had no choice. My friend was—” He bit off the words. The real words that were the truth. “I just had no choice, Brenda.”
Pursing her lips, Brenda shook her head. Why was all of this being piled on top of her today? Hadn’t she been through enough already? Surprisingly, she didn’t cry. She didn’t stumble as she stood and walked toward the locker room. There was a numbness, an emptiness that settled in the pit of her stomach and made her feel weighted down.
She made it to her locker and just stood there for a few minutes before she heard the soft sound of gym shoes padding down the aisle.
“Brenda?” It was Pamela. No skates on. Brenda felt an awkward tinge as she realized her lesson for the day was over before it even began. “Honey, are you all right.”
Brenda whirled around, determined to stay angry and stubborn, but something in her coach’s face wiped it away. Instead, Brenda let out a long groan and put her hands up to her face. “You should have told me you picked Scott to assist with my charity case,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. “Then I could have been prepared.” When she lowered her hands, Brenda looked beaten and worn out.
“Maybe you’re right. But you’re both here now. If you want, we’ve still got over forty-five minutes left. It isn’t going to get any harder than that first step, Brenda.”
Brenda’s heart leapt with nervousness. “I’m getting a little sick and tired of you being right, Pamela. Can’t you throw me a bone or something? Just let me enjoy a temper tantrum for a few minutes?” Humor and sarcasm were her favorite weapons of not only defense but when she knew she’d been licked. “I want to skate, Pamela. I really do.”
“I know that, Bren. So, let’s get started.”
With her head slightly lowered in embarrassment, Brenda joined Pamela as they made their way to the rink where Scott was making lazy circles on the ice near the skaters’ corral, waiting. He looked up, and Brenda saw his worried face transform into a surprised smile. She didn’t smile back, but she didn’t growl at him either.
Taking a deep breath, Brenda stepped onto the ice. Stuffing the feeling of awkwardness deep down into the toe of her skate, she sailed up to Scott’s side, turned and faced Pamela, who was tying on her own skates.
“All right, you guys. Let’s get started.”
The instructions were simple. Brenda felt they were too simple for her, but the complaints stayed locked behind her teeth. And when she found some of these easy moves to be a little trickier than she remembered, she was glad she hadn’t spoken out. Unfortunately, Scott’s moves were perfect, flawless—like his smile and his strong arms and ... wait. Brenda shook her head, trying to toss out the positive feelings about the man who’d dumped her. Not just dumped but stood her up at the altar. There was a special kind of resentment that was reserved for that kind of behavior. Brenda had held it for so long, the very idea of thinking something positive about Scott was like walking on a tightrope. And the unbalance showed in her skating.
She was supposed to grab his hand for a simple backward crossover. When she felt his warm palm, a ripple of excitement ran through her, making her take an extra step that threw off their rhythm. They were just to glide next to each other with Brenda holding his right hand at her waist with her left hand crossed over her body. It was a simple step. It always looked so pretty and innocent from the stands. But the feeling of her shoulder against Scott’s chest made her trip just a little, and she suffered a small knick in her calf from her skate. And, if she hadn’t made enough mistakes, a simple step where she was to turn backwards and grab hold of Scott’s hands ended in a sprawled-out mess on the ice when her vision played tricks on her, causing her to misjudge the distance between her, the wall, and Scott. Thankfully, she landed on her butt, and the only thing damaged was her pride.
Scott reached down his hand like a complete gentleman to help her up. “It’s all right. You’ve just got to get into the groove of things.”
The words ‘shut up’ rose in Brenda’s throat. Instead, she took his hand, pulled herself to her feet, and dusted herself off, hoping the embarrassment might fall to the ground with the pieces of ice.
During all the time Brenda h
ad pushed herself in therapy, she kept focusing on getting back here to this rink. It would be a piece of cake, like a fish to water or a bird to the sky. Now she felt more like those little girls whose mamas dress them up in cute winter outfits to see them wobble their way along a stretch of ice no bigger than a pool table, all the while clapping and hooting and cheering them on—not because they were good but because they were just so cute trying. That was how Brenda felt.
Making her way back to the corral, she continued to brush herself off and didn’t turn to look at Scott, who was skating at a safe distance behind her. She assumed he was familiar enough with her personality that he was giving her some space.
“I’m just not used to working with a partner,” Brenda said to him over her shoulder. “I think I’m just hard-wired to do this alone.”
She’d said this out of Pamela’s earshot. When the coach reached the pair, she studied Brenda’s face—her flushed cheeks and eyes looking down at her feet. “You guys did good. For the first try, I didn’t expect it to be as smooth as it was. Let’s call it a morning, and I’ll see you both here at the same time on Wednesday. Okay? And—”
Before Pamela could finish her sentence, Brenda was stomping off toward the ladies’ locker room.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Pamela?” Scott asked.
“No. But I’m hopeful.”
Chapter 4
Like a mirror to Brenda’s mood, the weather outside had revved up into a gloomy, foreboding kind of day. The wind had whipped up in sudden bursts to rip the remaining dry leaves from the tree branches, leaving them bending and waving like black, boney fingers against the gray sky. No people played basketball in their driveways or walked along the sidewalks enjoying a day outside before the lockdown of winter settled over everything. Instead, smoke emitted from the chimney tops, and the smell of burning wood filled the air as fireplaces burned away the cobwebs that had accumulated in them over the warmer months.
Brenda looked out her bedroom window into the backyard and watched the squirrels acting squirrely, chasing each other up one tree and down another. Her vision had blurred into rippled waves of gray and black lines. She was crying again.
“Knock, Knock? Can I come in?” It was the soft voice of Mrs. Wagner. Brenda’s mother never just walked into her room. Ever since she could remember, even as a little girl, her mom would knock. Her voice was always soft and gentle, and the answer had always been, “Yes, Mama.”
Brenda wiped her eyes quickly, hoping they weren’t too red and took a seat on the edge of her bed. She didn’t think her mom would notice.
“Honey? What’s the matter?” Mrs. Wagner asked immediately, her eyebrows arched in worry.
“Nothing, Mom. I’m just emotional because ... because that’s what I am all the time now.” She shrugged her shoulders. “At least that’s what it feels like to me. And this skating just ... isn’t turning out ... the way I thought it would.”
Mrs. Wagner sat down next to her daughter and circled her in her arms, giving her a soothing hug. “I know it’s hard. But look at where you are now compared to where you were last year at this time.”
Brenda gazed at her mother’s face. She was a pretty lady. Wrinkles were starting to show, and there was a stray gray hair here and there. Brenda thought she might have been the one to help those little devils sprout up from hours of worry.
“You showed everyone that you were different,” her mother continued. “You weren’t going to let them decide for you. You made the decision to get better because you wanted it. God gave you that fire in your belly. He didn’t take it away just because you clunked yourself on the dome.” Mrs. Wagner smoothed her daughter’s hair. “Don’t let a couple of setbacks push you off the path.”
Brenda nodded. Sometimes she wished her mother didn’t make so much sense. She and Pamela had so many of the same qualities that Brenda didn’t have a chance to wallow in self-pity. “I know, Mama. But, it’s just so much easier said than done.”
“I know it is. But if it was easy, everyone would be doing it.” Mrs. Wagner kissed her daughter on the top of the head as she stood up. “Oh, you have a visitor.”
Brenda groaned. “I just don’t know if I’m up to talking to anyone. I think I’d rather just sit and sulk a little longer. That’s productive, right?”
“Good luck trying to stay in a bad mood around this one. I don’t think it’s possible,” her mother said mysteriously.
“Who is it?” For a second Brenda thought it might be Scott, and her hands began to sweat.
“Jennifer,” her mom said happily. “She’s so bubbly. Almost to the point of ... psychotic. But in a good way.”
Brenda let out a chuckle and nodded.
“It will be good for you, Bren. Just a little time to be a girl, not a daughter who worries her mother and father to death. Not a skater, just a girl.”
So, it wasn’t Scott. Why would it be? He had no reason to stop by her house. He was probably busy. Doing whatever it was, he did all day. No. It made more sense that it was Jennifer. Brenda did like Jennifer, and she was bubbly and a whole world different from anyone else that she knew.
Standing up and wiping her eyes one more time, Brenda followed her mother down the hallway and into the kitchen. There she saw Jennifer, whose eyes nearly popped out of her head.
“Hey, girl! Tell me ... what do you think?” Jennifer asked, modeling her new winter ensemble. It was a hat, gloves, and matching leg warmers that looked to be made of half a dozen stuffed Pomeranian dogs.
“WOW! You look like you should be guarding Buckingham Palace!” Brenda said. “But I don’t think any of those guards look quite so stylish. It’s the leg warmers that tie the whole thing together.”
“Uncle John was in the very most northern part of Alaska this time. He met up with some locals in a town of about twenty-five people, and he said just about everyone had these.”
“They certainly do look warm,” Brenda said, running her hand up and down the soft, downy fur.
“Right. I swear, I don’t even need a coat,” Jennifer said, pulling off the hat, which crackled with static electricity and made her hair stand straight up in a sort of hairy halo. Extracting her right hand from the furry mitten, she smoothed her hair, rolling her eyes and smiling. “You wouldn’t believe the pictures he sent. You know, I expect his photos from Sri Lanka and Tibet and Argentina to be exotic. But when you see one from home, a place tucked away in America that takes your breath away, well, that’s a place worth seeing. Because ‘exotic’ probably isn’t the first word that comes to mind. I know I didn’t think that when he said he was going to Alaska. I thought of snow and more snow. Boy, was I wrong.”
“What an amazing job,” Brenda interrupted. “To get paid to travel and write about what you see. Do you think he could stuff me in a suitcase on one of these trips?” Brenda asked as she pulled down a couple of mugs from the cupboard and poured them each a cup of coffee.
“Yeah, right. He’s got pictures of the Aura Borealis, of these amazing frozen waterfalls, and I really liked this one of a beaver dam that’s almost fourteen feet high. Those have got to be some genius beavers building that. It’s like not just a home but a condo for beavers. It’s like the high-rise of beaver dams.” Jennifer put her hands around the cup of coffee, and Brenda laughed.
“So, how did the competition turn out the other night? I’m sorry I couldn’t stay for the whole thing,” Brenda said, raising the mug to her lips to take a sip of the hot liquid. The strong, bitter flavor felt warm and comforting at the same time.
“I came in fourth. Managed to hold my position among all the other ladies with their classical, sleep-inducing music.” She smiled and gave Brenda a wink. “Actually, I really did that one for my nana. It didn’t matter what place I came in. She’s getting old, and it’s harder and harder for her to get around. I didn’t want her to see me float around like a feather on the breeze. I wanted her to feel it; you know what I mean?” Jennifer nodded her head as
she spoke.
Brenda mused about how Jennifer’s thoughts and words made perfect sense in her world. But to skate for anything other than first place was foreign to her. She just couldn’t wrap her head around it. Still, she liked to listen to Jennifer talk. Everyone did. It was her charm.
“Even though she can’t walk like she used to, you should hear her talk about what it was like when she used to ice skate in Poland. Oh, my gosh. The stories she tells about the boys she’d talk to and how the great, grand lakes would freeze up. Sometimes, if they were lucky, she and her six brothers and sisters would share a potato roasted on a fire. Of course, this was all before the war. With her, it’s either the life before the war or the life after the war.”
Brenda heard in Jennifer’s words the respect and understanding that comes from a close relationship. There were no questions on why her grandmother’s life was broken up that way, why she chose to remember it that way. It just was. And so that would be how Jennifer passed down the stories to her children when she was an old lady and asked about her grandmother.
But, as usually happened, the conversation was gently steered toward the topic of their own figure-skating lives.
“Have you started training yet?” Jennifer asked.
Brenda lowered her eyes and scratched the back of her head as if she were a little embarrassed to admit her new predicament. “I just got back this morning. It was my first time on the ice since the accident.”
“And how did you do?” Jennifer looked over at the kitchen counter. “Have you got any cookies?”
Brenda stood and retrieved a large green jar from the counter. She took off the lid, laid it next to the stove before placing it in the middle of the kitchen table and sitting down again. “I don’t know, Jen. Pamela’s got me harnessed with a partner. Scott.”
Heart of a Champion Page 4
