She allowed herself a minute for a cynical huff. She’d seen her parents at their worst. Their clay feet had been all too evident. Now it was her turn to suffer the bad opinion of the person she loved most in the world.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LATE ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON, Miles sat at his desk making last-minute decisions about what to keep and what to cut out of the speech he was due to deliver in only a few hours. Unfortunately, fine-tuning his presentation was taking much longer than he’d anticipated. Maybe because I can’t concentrate? His own question made him laugh out loud. He wouldn’t get his focus back until Perrie Lynn’s performance was over, and that was still hours away. The way his evening schedule had worked out, he’d likely get back to his room that evening with plenty of time to spare to watch it.
Lark’s call was a welcome distraction, not to mention his eagerness to hear her voice. She’d had a couple of difficult days, too. “The countdown begins,” he said.
“Doesn’t it just.” She paused. “I wanted to check in. By the way, have you heard anything from Declan or Lisa Mandel?”
“No, not a word from either one, but I didn’t expect they be in touch.” He had left a message with Declan’s assistant, simply asking the coach to pass on condolences from Miles and Lark.
“Reaching out to Eric through Declan was the best way to acknowledge the loss, but without violating our agreement,” Lark said. “I couldn’t imagine not doing something, even in the most roundabout way.”
“You’re right. Uh, how’s Evan?”
“In a word, quiet. And now he’s at Parker’s house for the afternoon. They’ve been building quite the wire model of the location of planets, along with brightly colored arrows and mile markers. But...”
“Has he said anything about Perrie Lynn?” Miles asked, wishing he were with Lark and could wrap his arms around her. For the longest time they’d pretended these feelings weren’t growing between them. The kiss had changed that. They needed to talk soon, and not about Perrie Lynn.
“Evan has been silent, so far, but he’ll be here tonight. I intend to make sure he knows when she’s skating, but I can’t demand that he watch her with me.”
“True, but you’re taking every step you can...” Miles wanted to say something, but searched for the right words.
“What? You didn’t finish the sentence.”
With a snicker, he said, “Ah, you caught that.”
“And?”
“I was only going to say that we can’t go back and fix what happened in the past. How many times can you apologize?” He’d let a note of rational logic into his tone. “And don’t you think that Lyle is going to dig his own ditch? From everything you’ve said about Evan, I doubt he’s easily turned against people, especially you.”
“He is mature in some ways, and he’s not mean,” she said. “Believe me, I watched for that. Lyle has a cruel streak I’d just as soon not see passed on.”
“For obvious reasons, you can’t have any faith in Lyle, but I’d have some faith in that boy you had a major role in shaping.” I hope I’m right.
“Thanks, Miles. I needed to hear that.”
After they ended the call Miles acknowledged that Andi had been right. He’d fallen in love with Lark.
He saved the file of his speech and closed the computer. If he weren’t careful, he’d soon be overcome with regrets about the past he’d been trying to put behind him. Better to go find distractions and stop the self-recriminations.
* * *
LARK PULLED THE two baked potatoes out of the oven and put one on each plate, along with slices of hot meat loaf—a couple of extra pieces for Evan. As she tried to focus on the vegetables in the steamer, she almost laughed out loud. Broccoli had never commandeered so much of her attention.
“Evan? Dinner’s ready,” she called in a voice louder than intended. Nerves, she thought, a bad case of nerves. Odd, her muscles tensed up talking to Evan and then were equally tense anticipating Perrie Lynn’s performance. She took a deep breath and spooned broccoli onto Evan’s plate.
“You don’t have to yell,” Evan said, appearing in the kitchen. “I was only in my room.”
Lark couldn’t miss the sullen expression, and before she could stop herself she made some trite remark about meat loaf being his favorite. She groaned inside listening to her lame attempt to sound normal in a situation that was anything but.
Pulling out a chair at her place at the table, Lark asked about the science-fair project.
“It’s okay—we’re keeping the model at her house. There’s more room there.”
Was that an embarrassed smile she saw? He was fighting hard enough to keep his feelings under wraps. “I’ll bet there is,” she said. That begged the question about why the kids hadn’t set up at Lyle’s house. Not that it mattered. “In any case, I’m glad you’re enjoying the project.”
He smirked. “It ranks up there with skiing and chess.” He took another bite of meat loaf. “This is good.”
She nodded her thanks, but then put down her own fork. “Look, I need to talk to you about tonight. You know it’s the time for the women’s long program. It determines who medals and could determine who goes on to the world championships.”
He kept his eyes focused on his plate. “I know. I looked it up.”
“Do you mean you looked up Perrie Lynn online?”
He shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Of course. I’m glad you did that on your own. I hope you’ll watch her skate. With me.” She paused and consciously removed the desperation from her voice when she asked, “Will you do that?”
Another shrug, quick and noncommittal.
When they’d finished eating, she left the table to transfer pieces of chocolate cake to two plates. Evan muttered a quick thank-you when she put the plate in front of him. They ate their dessert in uneasy silence. Then, without needing to be reminded, Evan rinsed their plates and put them in the dishwasher, one of his regular chores. Obviously, he was carefully avoiding conversation of any kind.
“I won’t push you, Evan. It’s your choice, but I’ll be watching and you can join me anytime.”
Then she was alone with her thoughts. Evan had gone off to his room, saying that he and Eduardo, a friend from his chess club, were going to play chess on the computer.
A cup of strong coffee in hand, Lark turned on the TV and settled into the evening’s International program, all the while wishing Miles was with her. Given his need to be in a tux at an awards banquet, they couldn’t talk on the phone and watch together. He’d assured Lark he’d check his phone now and again for the scores she’d promised to text. With any luck, he’d be able to slip away and get to his room in time to watch Perrie Lynn.
Her thoughts drifted back to Evan. Would he insist on isolating himself in his room? Apparently, he didn’t lack curiosity about his half sister, but was he embarrassed to sit with his mother and watch? Would that be like confronting his mother’s bad judgment and secrets?
She listened to the announcers with half her attention and her thoughts switched back and forth between Miles and Evan. But the magic of the night finally enveloped her like a cloak. First, the roaring crowds, and even Katie and Allen, all dressed up as if going off to a prom, showed their excitement and recounted their experiences of preparing for one of the biggest nights in any skater’s career. Earning a ticket onto International ice was a sign of achievement, no matter the final standings.
Over the next couple of hours, the groups of women skated and Lark felt it all—the heartbreak of missed jumps and lost points, as well as the big smiles when they saw their posted scores and celebrated a personal best with excited hugs. Maybe for the first time, Lark understood the triumph of finishing in the top ten of the final standings in an International competition. That placement could determ
ine if a skating career could continue to go forward.
Finally, the last group of skaters took the ice, and there she was, Perrie Lynn in her sparkling burgundy-red costume, perfect for the music from Scheherazade. Lark laced her fingers under her chin and hunched her shoulders in happiness, maybe mixed with a minor case of nerves. She laughed inside when she spotted Molly Walden and Julia James and realized she hoped they did well, too. Because of their dedication and determination, those two young women claimed a little corner in her heart.
The internal debate began, and when commercials for jam and jewelry droned on, Lark got up off the couch and went to Evan’s door. She knocked with conviction, before opening it to see him at his computer. He looked up with surprise in his eyes. “Perrie Lynn’s group is skating, and this is it for the Internationals.” She paused and took a deep breath. “No matter what happens in the competition, I don’t want you to miss her performance. Yes, the situation is unusual, but sooner or later, Evan, you’ll meet her in person.”
She’d never know for sure if she’d coaxed him out of his room or he’d have come out on his own. But without argument, he stood and followed her in time for the first skater, Maya, who was representing Canada. She’d just finished her warm-up and was in her starting pose at center ice. She had decided against classical music for this season’s long program and chosen a medley of Beatles songs. She completed every jump and executed every spin, and got the audience clapping to the beat of the music. The commentator agreed she had the most complex program of all the skaters and had executed it perfectly. She immediately sat in first place.
“I read about the jumps,” Evan said. “They have names like axel and lutz and salchow. I guess they were named after skaters.”
“But not the loops and flips,” she said, chuckling. “The jumps are spectacular and all that, but my favorite are the long extensions—the arabesques.” So, Evan had been learning a little about skating. She kept her surprise to herself, hoping he’d reveal more without the need to prompt him.
Molly’s program was breathtaking, perfection itself. Katie and Allen couldn’t stop talking about it, remarking that Molly took the confidence gained from her NorAms title and let it fuel her International performance. Molly overtook Maya, and then Julia skated and turned one triple into a double, which caused her to drop into third place behind Maya. Once again, Allen and Katie talked about room at the top.
“I’ve learned the lingo now,” she remarked. Lark explained to Evan that one small bobble had put Perrie Lynn in fourth place, but she still had a good chance to move up. “If she skates her best.”
“But her, um, her mom died.” Evan shook his head. “Must be tough.”
“I know. They talk about it on TV a lot.”
“Do you think she can skate her best?”
An important question. “I think the drive to finish what her mother helped her start is the motivator. They’ve worked for years to reach this level, even moving to Michigan to train with a famous coach. For most of these International-level athletes, the quest is all there is, and they don’t do it alone.”
Evan had stumbled a little over talking about Perrie Lynn’s mom, but Lark believed that was to be expected. She herself was finding it easier to refer to Maxine as Perrie Lynn’s mother. It was the reality, and her language had to match it.
“She’s such a beautiful skater,” she said as Perrie Lynn made her way around the circumference of the ice, arms extended. “Miles says she gets everyone on her side before she even starts to skate, kind of the way the top speakers do before they utter the first word.”
Evan frowned as if thinking about what she said, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen.
A pleasant buzz traveled through Lark when it struck her that Evan would like Miles. As much as Miles was athletic and fit, he was also an ideas person, curious and smart. Given the chance, he’d ask all the right questions about the science-fair project and show a natural affinity for a kid who studied chess moves.
Perrie Lynn took center ice and from there the first jump setup unfolded. A triple, perfectly executed from the lift and the turns high in the air, to the solid landing and easy transition to the next move. Allen commented that Perrie Lynn came into the building on fire, ready to skate. Knowing that was true, Lark cupped her hands over her mouth, breathing deeply to stay calm as Perrie Lynn continued to mesmerize the audience. Lark stole a sidelong glance at Evan and he was watching intently. Enjoying it? She couldn’t say, but he was paying attention.
The four minutes passed in a flash of dizzying spins and dazzling arabesques. After a final one-foot glide the length of the ice and an impossible looking spread-eagle jump, Perrie Lynn completed the final spins—the exclamation point on the program. The standing ovation began before she came out of the spin into the dramatic ending pose.
“I haven’t seen her skate very much, but this was truly remarkable,” Lark said, just as Perrie Lynn broke the pose and covered her face with her hands. “Oh, Evan, it’s hitting her now. The loss. All that love and commitment her mother poured into her came to fruition in those four minutes on the ice.”
Evan nodded, and Lark staunched hot tears.
“Such a bittersweet moment,” Allen said, expressing what every viewer was feeling.
“She rose to the occasion. Making her mother proud. She left everything out there on the ice,” Katie added.
“Do you think she won, like the gold?” Evan asked.
Lark considered her answer, but pulled herself into an objective place. “The skaters before her were at their best, too, but there is room for her to jump ahead. I don’t know enough to predict the technical score, but this was an incredible skate, adversity or not.”
An image flashed on the screen and grabbed her attention. She pointed to Eric Olson, who was on his feet and smiling through his tears. “That’s Perrie Lynn’s dad.”
Evan nodded. “It must be kind of tough for him, huh?”
“I’m sure it is.”
“Seems like this stuff happens at the Internationals all the time,” Evan said. “I remember there was a gymnast whose dad died on the way to arena and one of the swimmers lost a brother.”
“Charlie, that network commentator, talked about that the other night.”
The camera went back to Perrie Lynn, who sat between Leffie and Declan, their shoulders touching her. Protection, Lark thought. Perrie Lynn waved, for the moment, anyway, smiling in triumph.
When the scores were announced, Perrie Lynn jumped from her seat and thrust her arms over her head. She had moved up to second place, which meant Maya dropped to third. Two skaters were left—one a top contender from Japan, the other a little less reliable skater from Russia.
“She could win a medal, couldn’t she?” Evan asked. “Or at the worst, come in fourth.”
“That’s right.”
Captured by the tension of competition, she and Evan sat silent as Emi Hanyu mesmerized the audience with a gripping, dramatic performance to the music of Phantom of the Opera. “Emi is one of the most beautiful skaters of the group,” Lark said, when the joyous artistic expressions led to a score that put her in first place, causing Perrie Lynn to drop to third.
“Uh-oh,” Evan said. “If the last one, the girl from Russia, does really well, does that mean Perrie Lynn will drop?”
Lark, realizing she’d dug her fingernails into her palm, consciously opened her hands and stretched and spread her fingers. “Yes, that’s exactly what it could mean. I’ve heard Katie and Allen say that particular skater is not as artistic as many others, including Perrie Lynn. That could make just enough of a difference. But I don’t like rooting for a girl to skate poorly.”
“Kinda makes you nervous, doesn’t it?” Evan said.
Smiling to herself, Lark knew that no matter what happened, Evan would always be a little curious a
bout Perrie Lynn.
In the end, the Russian skater took a bad fall, and the scores held. Perrie Lynn won the bronze.
“Cool,” Evan said.
Squeezing his arm, Lark said, “Very cool.”
Later that night, Lark told Miles about her evening with Evan. “So, I guess all in all, I’d have to say it was a pretty cool night,” she said.
“And I can’t wait to get home to celebrate with you.”
Her stomach doing a little flip, she asked, “How soon can you get here?”
His delighted chuckle topped off a perfect day.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE RIVER WAS shallow and narrow along the stretch closest to town. Stepping away from the bumpy sloping bank, Lark took off down a long, smooth expanse of ice that ran through the middle of dense woods in the state park. The biting wind brushed her face, prompting her to reposition her scarf over her mouth and nose. That same strong wind would be at her back when she returned to the public dock and boat launch.
Not surprisingly, she wasn’t alone on the river. Other skaters, both young and not so young, zipped past her. Unlike Lark, her companions were sure-footed. It would take more than a few minutes on the ice to feel secure on her feet like she had as a teenager. No matter. Simply skating after so many years was enough for Lark.
Until that morning, she’d all but forgotten she still had skates stashed in the basement, left over from her high-school years. She’d brought them out only a couple of times when she tried to interest Evan in skating years ago.
She passed a series of docks that jutted into the water in front of clusters of houses and cottages. Many were occupied year-round, but some were vacation getaways used for weekends of kayaking and canoeing on the river. As she skated, memories of childhood moments flowed through her. It was so easy to imagine herself as a young girl moving on to figure skating, spinning in place or lifting her body off the ice and turning two or three times in the air. Not that she’d ever done that. It had never even occurred to her. As a child, she’d been motivated by the thrill of speed.
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