“He promised me they would be. He said whatever I—”
“You talked to him?”
“I saw him Christmas morning. We’ve talked on the phone a couple times since.”
“And you’re just telling me now?”
“Because I knew how you’d react. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“How am I supposed to react?” Beth asked, furious. “You’ve been sneaking around behind my back, making ridiculous decisions, and all I’ve ever tried to do is give you what you want! Do you honestly believe Blake will coach you in singles and let you keep skating pairs with Weston?”
They hadn’t discussed anything nearly so specific. Still . . .
“He said whatever I want,” Lexa repeated stubbornly.
“Can you imagine the chaos you’re talking about? Two sports. Two coaches. Four programs. Two agendas.” Beth shook her head. “Impossible.”
“But—”
“Two sets of opinions. Two training schedules. Two ways to split your focus at every competition—it doesn’t bear thinking about. And where is Eric in all of this? Have you even considered him?”
“I have. I don’t . . .”
Eric was the puzzle piece she couldn’t quite make fit.
“You have to choose, Lexa. It’s the only fair thing—to all of us. Pairs with Eric, Weston, and me . . . or back to singles with Blake. You can’t do both. If you’re honest, you already know that.”
She did know that. But she still desperately wanted to try.
“I just feel like I understand my life so much better now. And I’ll be seventeen next month. I need to start making my own decisions.”
“By all means. Make this one right now.”
“You’re still too angry to see Blake clearly. Maybe I was too close. But he loved my mother and he loves me.”
“Look where his love got Kaitlin!”
“I’m pretty sure it got her exactly where she wanted to be. No one wanted the way it ended—you can’t believe Blake did.”
Beth waved a hand as if to ward off sympathetic feelings. “How I feel about Blake is irrelevant. You can’t have two coaches. And after everything Weston has done for you: coming out of retirement, believing in you the way he does . . .”
Lexa’s heart twisted. Weston had done more than believe in her. He had made her believe in herself. “You’re making me feel awful.”
“You should! I can’t believe you’d let all his support and hard work be for nothing.”
“It wasn’t nothing! If I hadn’t had this chance to skate pairs now, while I’m young enough to have the option of pursuing it, I’d have carried the regret all my life. That’s worth something, isn’t it? It’s worth a lot to me.”
Beth’s eyes searched hers. “It sounds like you’ve already chosen.”
Lexa’s pulse was skipping but her chest felt hollow. This was the moment she’d been dreading, the moment she had to face facts and make a final decision . . .
The truth of her grandmother’s words hit her the next instant. She had waffled. She had worried. But she had already chosen. Her choice had been made on Christmas morning, high up in a platter lift above a frozen lake.
“I’m sorry, G-mom,” she said, feeling that remorse all through her. “I never meant to upset you, or hurt anyone, or—”
“Don’t think I’m firing Weston for you! Or Eric either, for that matter. If you’re so determined to throw away everything we’ve built—” Beth turned to stalk away, but not quickly enough to hide the tears filling her eyes.
Running after her grandmother, Lexa threw her arms around her waist and pressed her cheek into her back. “I’m so sorry. I love you so much.”
Beth’s breath hitched painfully as she tried to regain control. Knowing that she had caused that pain made Lexa cry too. They stood trapped that way, stuck in a moment with no clear next step, until at last Beth twisted around inside Lexa’s embrace.
“It’ll be all right, kitten.” Offering up a teary smile, she folded her granddaughter into a hug. “We all leave some wreckage behind on the road to becoming ourselves. God knows I left my share.”
Lexa nodded, not believing her.
Beth used both her hands to wipe the tears from Lexa’s cheeks. “I’m a tough old bird. I’ll be all right.”
“I’m so sorry,” Lexa said again.
“I know. Don’t worry. You and I are bigger than this—we’re going to be just fine.” Beth sniffed one last time, then managed a lopsided grin. “But you’re still on your own telling Weston and Eric.”
—64—
Eric opened his door with a smile that conveyed his unease. He obviously sensed an agenda behind Lexa’s first-ever visit to his apartment, but he ushered her into his tiny living room with all of his usual charm. “Happy New Year! Hang your coat on anything—I won’t be able to tell the difference.”
His apartment was more cramped than messy, but there wasn’t a coat rack. Lexa picked the back of a chair, then sat in it.
“I made a pot of coffee in honor of this historic visit,” he said, digging through cupboards in the adjacent kitchenette. “I even have some cookies. If you want actual food, though, we’ll have to go out. There’s a deli on the corner, but they might be closed for the holiday.”
“It’s fine. I ate breakfast at home.” She took the mug of coffee he came back out to offer.
“Skim milk and three Splendas. Do I know my partner or what?”
She nodded guiltily.
“Okay. Let’s have it,” he said, sitting on the sofa opposite her. “Something bad is all over your face.”
Lexa had been crying off and on since the afternoon before. She’d skipped the New Year’s party to watch the clock turn midnight in her dark room, miserable and alone. She didn’t have the heart or the strength to drag things out any longer.
“I’ve decided to go back to singles. I’m so sorry. You’re so great—the best, Eric. I just . . . pairs isn’t where I belong.”
“Oh.” He looked completely blindsided. “Yeah. That’s actually a lot worse than I expected.”
“What did you think I was going to say?”
“That you wanted another week off, maybe, or to cut our training down enough to go back to school with your friends. Worst case scenario, I was prepared to wear pink for our free skate.”
He flashed that goofy grin, although this one took visible effort. Lexa fought to return it as a tear rolled down her cheek. Even now, when he ought to be furious, he was joking to make her feel better.
“I never deserved you. I feel horrible.”
“Hey, it happens.” He grimaced. “It happens to me a lot.”
“You know how many girls want to skate with you? If I were staying in pairs, I’d fight them all to keep you. I feel terrible for wasting your time, but I’ll remember every minute of being your partner. Skating with you was the best gift I ever got.”
“You didn’t waste my time. I’m probably in the best shape of my life, not to mention that Weston Kirk would never have come out of retirement for me. With Weston in my corner—” He broke off with a look of horror. “Oh, God. Is Weston dropping me too?”
“I’m not dropping you, Eric. I’m just—” The look he gave her made arguing semantics seem cruel. “I haven’t told Weston yet. I tried calling this morning, but he’s not answering his phone.”
“I wish I hadn’t either.” Eric bowed his shaggy head, then glanced back up hopefully. “You’re positive you won’t change your mind after you talk to Weston? He might talk you around.”
Lexa shook her head. “I want to skate singles with my dad again. I wish I could do both, but . . .”
He sighed. “We did only commit until the end of the year. Hey, so technically you should have told me yesterday,” he said, trying for humor again.
“Seeing as how I spent yesterday bawling, I was kind of tied up.”
He nodded sadly. “I’m not going to lie—this hurts. But if your heart isn’t in pairs, I guess I�
��d rather know now.”
“It kills me to let you down. I’ll understand if you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” He rolled his eyes. “Give me a little time and I might even like you again.”
Lexa smiled, just barely. “Do you mean that? Can we still be friends?”
He tipped his head from side to side, evaluating. “Right now you’re the evil ex. Expect that to last three days, because I have my pride. After that I’ll promote you to some chick I used to skate with until I’m feeling the healing. But eventually, yeah. Still friends.”
Launching herself through the space between them, Lexa hugged him hard. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
—65—
Lexa cried again on the long drive home, Eric’s kindness increasing her remorse. She imagined how Boyd must have received the same news, undoubtedly making the whole thing her fault. Except that this time it is your fault, she thought, taking her eyes off the road long enough to wipe them on her sleeve.
No snow had fallen since Christmas Eve, leaving the roads clear. Rolling up to the top of Maplehurst’s long drive, Lexa first noticed the line of icicles sparkling along its facade, then Weston’s big SUV sitting right out front. She parked in the garage and dawdled there, trying brace herself for one last heartbreaking good-bye.
This is it, she told herself, wiping away the last of her ruined mascara. Tell Weston, and you’re a singles skater again.
She thought of Blake, waiting for her to make her decision with a patience she hadn’t known he possessed, and felt some courage rise. Living with him again, training at Ashtabula Ice, was going to be familiar, but it wouldn’t be the same. Now that she’d claimed the right to make her own choices, her future was wide open.
Beth and Weston were holed up in the living room. The half-burned logs crackling in the fireplace suggested they had been there some time. Lexa approached grimly, certain she was walking into an ambush. To her surprise, the pair was chatting happily, empty plates nearby smeared with the remains of Dutch apple pie.
Weston’s face lit up when he saw her. “There’s our girl!” he exclaimed, patting the sofa cushion beside him.
Lexa glanced at Beth. Her grandmother smiled enigmatically, no help at all. Does he know or not? Lexa worried as she took the seat next to Weston.
“What have you been up to on this beautiful morning?” he asked.
She looked at Beth again. Still no clue. If anything, she seemed equally interested in hearing Lexa’s answer.
“I, uh . . . I was just over at Eric’s.”
“Ah.” Weston’s expression softened. “And how did Eric take the news?”
Lexa shot Beth an accusing glance.
“I didn’t tell him!” Beth exclaimed, equally surprised.
“Blake called me a few days ago,” Weston said, shocking them both. “He said you might want to come back to Ashtabula Ice, invited us all to train there if you did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Beth demanded.
“That was Lexa’s decision to make. Besides, I thought I saw a different outcome, and it looks like I was right.”
“I’m so sorry.” Lexa felt as if she’d said nothing else for days.
Weston patted her hand. “He’s your father. You ought to train with him.”
“It’s just . . . skating with you has been so incredible. I want you to know how much it meant, and how much I learned. Eric feels the same way—he’s afraid you won’t coach him now.”
“Ah,” Weston said. “I’m afraid he’s right. But I will help him find my replacement. There are plenty of great coaches out there—younger, less crotchety coaches.”
“You’re not crotchety! I love you.” Lexa’s eyes filled instantly. She hadn’t known she was going to say that, but it was absolutely true.
“Oh, hey now,” he said, reacting to her tears. “You don’t think I feel the same way? I’m not going anywhere but back to retirement. If your grandmom will have me around, I’ll still be here all the time.”
“Really?”
“Of course I’ll have you around!” Beth exclaimed. “What a thing to say.”
The two of them shared a smile that caught Lexa off guard. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had developed feelings for Weston. And unless she was very mistaken, those feelings were returned. Her concerns about leaving Beth alone seemed suddenly much less pressing.
“If you want to apologize to someone, apologize to the fish,” Weston told her. “Thanks to you, I’ll be back to bothering them full time.”
Lexa nodded with dawning happiness and wiped her face one last time. “I won’t tell them you’re coming.”
TWO WEEKS LATER
—Epilogue—
Hawthorne Civic Arena was packed to the rafters for ladies short program. Lexa stepped out for her warm up with butterflies in her knees and her pulse hammering her throat. She hadn’t trained for nationals, not properly, but as her first blade touched the ice, her nervousness melted away.
I’m just here to skate, she reminded herself, dodging the other girls in her group as she built speed around the oval. It doesn’t matter where I place—just being here is the prize.
She breezed through her warm-up jumps on faith and adrenaline, landing even the triple lutz without difficulty. People in the crowd yelled down to their favorites, waving homemade signs and banners. Lexa took in the judges and media as she circled again. Then, a few rows above them at center ice, she spotted her own cheering section: Bry, Ian, Jenni, and, most surprisingly, Adam Yale. Jenni had convinced him to drive his Prius through the night so that she could afford to be there.
Jenni waved wildly. “Go, Lexa!” she shouted. The guys stood up as well, Bry brandishing a sign that read HAPPY 17th, LEXA WALKER! Lexa waved back, thrilled that they were there to cheer her on. Her friends’ presence was a bittersweet reminder that her grandmother wasn’t coming, though. Beth had never missed a nationals, not since Lexa’s first competition in the junior ranks. But this year, even with short program falling on Lexa’s birthday . . .
It’s not her fault, Lexa thought, trying to fend off the pain before it showed up in her skating. All those years Beth had traveled alone just to watch her skate had been exactly like this one—and not remotely the same. I can’t blame her for not wanting to see me back with Blake.
Although, in fairness, that wasn’t Blake’s fault either.
Lexa threw a double axel and nearly lost the landing, knocked out of her mental zone. As she muscled the last rotation around into a shaky glide, a flash of movement caught her eye. A couple near the end of the oval had jumped up to wave, her smooth bob like liquid silver under the lights, his iron gray hair glinting.
“Let’s go, Lexa!” Beth’s voice was nearly drowned out by the shouting all around her, but Lexa could see her face clearly, and the gratitude that sight provoked brought water to her eyes. Whether her grandmother had changed her mind or Weston had changed it for her, the fact that she’d come after all meant more than a medal ever could.
Weston pointed to his throat, to the spot the silver star he’d given her was pinned to her midnight blue dress, and flashed her a thumbs up. His message was unmistakable. Lexa touched the star he still believed she was, and then, hidden beneath her neckline, Kaitlin’s gold cross and skate—her past and present merging into a future that had never felt more right. She waved back frantically and threw another double axel, this one effortless. Then Blake gestured from the rail and she skated over to join him.
“You look like you came to skate today,” he said. “You look strong out there. Confident. So don’t leave it all in the warm-up. Give yourself a chance to settle and catch your breath.”
“I hate pulling first draw,” she said, a touch of nerves returning.
“It was never my favorite either, but here we are.” Blake smiled. “And whatever happens is going to be fine.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“I’m so proud of you. Do you know that? Proud to be
your coach, but even prouder to be your dad.”
Lexa nodded. For the first time in her life, she did know that. “I’m proud of you too.”
The remaining skaters were called off the ice. Tension in the arena ratcheted upward. Lexa’s group was about to compete.
Blake took her hands over the railing as he delivered his final instructions. “Keep your head up. Sell every landing. If something goes wrong, smile. If you fall, smile harder. This is your moment, right here. Show these people what a Walker looks like.”
Lexa’s name boomed through the building. Blake let go of her hands. “Are you ready?”
She nodded and was about to push off when he held out both his fists.
“Walk on water,” he said.
Her gasp wasn’t the only one as old-timers in the audience realized what they were seeing. She hesitated only long enough to memorize the moment before bringing her fists down on his. “I’m working on it.”
“It all starts right here.”
Lexa’s smile beamed straight from her heart as she took her position at center ice. Her destiny was in her own hands now, and she finally understood what she’d been born to do.
The first note sounded and she was off, off to start walking on water.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laura Peyton Roberts is the author of numerous books for teens and tweens, including the Clearwater Crossing series, Ghost of a Chance, The Queen of Second Place, Queen B, Green, and Walk on Water. Laura has degrees in both geology and English, and worked as a geologist before becoming a writer. She and her husband live in San Diego, California.
Visit Laura’s website:
www.LauraPeytonRoberts.com
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