by Alina Adams
At this, Amanda Reilly squeezed her way past the seats to stand next to Lian at ground level. She wrapped her arms around Lian's shoulders, practically rocking her, and soothed, "It's okay, honey, it's all right. Calm down, angel. Let Coop go. We can talk about this later. Just us girls. Don't get upset, sweetie."
From the shelter of her mother's unconditional adoration, with Amanda's crossed forearms tucked under her chin and Lian's hands clutching her mom's elbows like a life preserver, Lian glared at Coop. He sighed and, for a moment, looked like he might try to explain. But the audience discouraged him. Coop looked around, finally comprehending just how many people had witnessed his personal scene and blushed almost as crimson as his gloves. Quickly, he yanked off his skates, dropping them where he stood, and pulled on his sneakers without bothering to tie the laces. Coop ducked his head so that his eyes only met Bex's. He jerked his chin to indicate that they should go.
She followed by leading.
The two headed for the arena tunnel. Much to Bex's surprise, nobody followed them. Maybe Bex wasn't the only one coming to realize that no story was worth another person's suffering. Maybe the entire skating world was growing up.
She and Coop walked in silence for a few minutes, the monotonous gray tunnels hardly inspiring small talk. His strides were so long, Bex had to double-time to keep up, but since she was the one who knew where they were going, he was forced to stop every few feet and wait for her to catch up. He would bounce in place, nervous energy panting to escape from every pore. Finally, unable to bear the silence. Coop asked Bex, "So, what happened, again? Lian said—"
"Lian got the bulk of it right."
"So Idan really said he... and Allie?"
"Yes. I was there for that. For what it's worth, he seemed very anxious about the baby. I don't think it was an act."
"I don't believe it. Idan, he wasn't like that. Some coaches, you can see it right away. I mean, everybody knows you don't need to put your hands on a girl's boobs to show her how to hold her position in a lift. But there are coaches who do it all the time. Boobs, ass, right between her legs with practically the whole rink watching. Some of them like girls and some of them like boys, but you can always tell who the perverts are."
"And Idan never — "
"Never!" Coop turned his palms up toward the ceiling. "I thought he was a good guy. That's why I switched to him, you know, two years ago, before I won Nationals. I used to take from Gary Gold all the way across the country, over in Connecticut. Do you know him?"
"Yes," Bex said. And added sincerely, "He may not be the cuddliest person, but he's one of the most decent human beings in the sport."
"Yeah, I liked him, too. My mom and him, they disagreed on some stuff, so that was a pain. There were things about him personally, nothing to do with skating, that she didn't like. She wanted me to switch over to Igor Marchenko — well, obviously before he died — 'cause they were in the same rink and we wouldn't have to move then. But I told her, if I had to leave Gary, Idan was the only coach I wanted. He'd choreographed my Short and Long the year before, and we just got along really great. Nobody thought he could do the technical coaching, they thought he was for artistic stuff only, but I really liked how he'd look at a move and take it apart, then put it back together better. I thought he'd make an awesome technical coach, and he did."
"And did your mother not have as many issues with him as she did with Gary?" Bex felt kind of silly asking a twenty-two-year-old how his mommy liked his teacher, but Coop had brought the issue up.
"Oh, yes. Mom and Idan get along fine. She thought he was a good role model for me. Well, not about everything. She was a little disturbed about him having been in the army. Mom's a serious liberal — you know: War is dangerous for children and other living things. That poster was on my wall long as I can remember. But she got over it when she saw that Idan didn't, like, teach with an Uzi over his shoulder or anything. The thing I liked best about Idan, though, was how he didn't treat his students like babies. A lot of the other coaches, it doesn't matter how old you really are, they act like you're five. They make all your decisions for you. Not just your music and your costumes, but what you should eat and when you should sleep and who your friends should be. Idan, he's all, 'Hey, man, you're an adult. I'm just here to teach you some skating. Do whatever you want on your own time.' Gary was a little like that, too. He didn't like to get into your personal business. But if you asked him for advice, he'd give it. I used to do it all the time. Gary is a really smart guy. But that's what my mom didn't like. She didn't agree with some things he believed in and practiced, and she didn't want him influencing me."
Bex could imagine. Gary Gold was one of the most conservative men in figure skating. He wore a perfectly pressed suit and tie not only to competitions, but to practice as well. He tolerated no backtalk or swearing, made his students address him as "Sir," and thank him after every session, and had no qualms about punishing a child for breaking any of his rules by stopping their lesson midway and refusing to continue, no matter how much the parents pleaded. Pairing him with a "serious liberal" mom seemed like a recipe for conflict.
"Did Allison like Idan?" Bex asked.
"Yeah. She and Sebi were the first serious contenders to have him as a full-time coach. He choreographed some gorgeous programs for them — international judges loved them. But, see, that's what I mean about Idan being cool. A lot of other coaches, they'd have objected to Allie and me dating. They'd say it was distracting us from training, or they'd say, we skate in the same rink, if we broke up it would make things awkward. But Idan just said, 'Go ahead, have a good time, guys.' He seemed chill with us going out."
"After Allison quit skating last year and just took off, did Idan say anything? Did he have any ideas why she did it?"
They were standing side by side, waiting for the elevator that would take them to the upper level, giving Coop time to really think about her question. He crossed his arms and rubbed his neck thoughtfully, pinching the skin so hard little tufts of red poof from his gloves remained embedded in the crease. "I don't... I don't remember exactly. He sure seemed as surprised as the rest of us. And pissed, too. I mean, Allie and Sebi had just won Nationals, he was dying to take them to Worlds and show them off. Allie really let him down in that respect. Sebi, too. He was furious. But neither one of us suspected anything like... like..."
Bex asked, "You didn't?"
"I didn't what?" They got on the elevator.
"You didn't suspect Allison might be pregnant? You seem pretty certain her baby is yours. Which means you two must have been having unprotected sex."
"Not that often. We tried to be careful. Sometimes, though, well..."
"But you never thought she might be pregnant?"
"I... it was because, if Allie was pregnant, there was no reason for her not to tell me. I'd have definitely stood by her, no doubt about it. I'd have married her and taken care of her and the baby, too. She had no reason not to tell me, Bex. And she certainly had no reason to kill herself!"
Bex and Coop got off the elevator and headed for the lounge.
"But if Idan was the father..." she pointed out.
"You really think Allie was cheating on me with Idan?"
"I only have Idan's word for it. But, then again, I only have your word that your relationship with Allie was what you say it was."
"This is messed up." Coop sighed.
Bex agreed with him.
They arrived at the lounge and, as soon as she opened the door, Bex realized they wouldn't be alone. Omri was still there, this time without his ad hoc guardian, but so was Officer Ho. He was standing next to Ralph Adler, helping him fill out some paperwork.
Ralph was hunched over a desk, pen in his hand, and Ho was leaning over him, so that neither saw the door open. Bex considered suggesting to Coop that they come back later, now probably wasn't a good time, but she never had the chance. Coop pushed the door open the rest of the way, and the squeak got both Ralph and Ho's attention.
L.A.'s finest clearly had no idea who the young man with Bex was. Ralph, on the other hand, looked like he'd been waiting specifically for his arrival.
Despite being, by Bex's estimate, a good fifty pounds overweight, and probably thirty years older than his target, Ralph didn't hesitate in dropping the pen and, with a roar, tearing across the room to smack both fleshy palms against Coop's chest.
Unprepared for the blow, Coop staggered, accidentally stepping on the loose lace of his left shoe with his right foot and going down completely.
Pleased, Ralph raised his leg and aimed a kick at Coop's head. Coop, employing the same catlike stealth that had saved many a seemingly doomed triple jump at the last minute, managed to roll out of the way and hop back onto his feet, raising his own leg to deflect the blow and nearly knocking Ralph off-balance instead.
"Little shit!" Ralph screamed as he grabbed a table to keep from toppling over. "You killed my daughter!"
CHAPTER FIVE
Officer Ho pounced on Ralph, squeezing his wrists and yanking both arms behind his back. The older man howled in protest and tried to squeeze his way out, but Ho held on, pinning his elbows for good measure. Ralph's hat fell off his head as he struggled and screamed at Ho, "Let go of me, damn it! Don't you know who this little punk is?"
Realizing that words weren't going to do the trick here, Ralph attempted to slip out of his raincoat sleeves, but this wasn't Officer Ho's first time at the human rodeo, and Ralph had barely gotten his shoulders loose before Ho stuck a knee in Ralph's lower back, driving his shoulder blades closer together and making the escape impossible.
Bex felt like she should be taking notes, but everything happened so quickly she had barely registered one event before the next took place.
Coop, back up on his feet, instinctively raised his fists — Bex recalled from his bio that in addition to running, cycling, biking, weight lifting, and, for all she knew, leaping tall buildings in a single bound, Coop also boxed to cross-train. He looked for a moment like he might take a retaliatory swing at the jutting gut that was now so tantalizingly wide open in his direction, but a stern bark of "Step down, kid!" from Ho kept Coop's clenched palms by his sides, even as he refused to relax his fight stance, legs wide apart, bounding on his toes, every muscle hyperalert.
Instead, Coop merely screamed back, "What are you talking about? No one killed Allie! She committed suicide. Right?" Suddenly unsure, Coop dropped his stance, heels on the floor, fingers loose, and swiveled his head to look at Bex for confirmation.
She, in turn, looked to Ho, who — in a move so fleeting, Bex was left wondering if maybe she'd imagined seeing it — shook his head, "No."
Now, what in the world did that mean?
Did it mean, "No, don't tell him anything"? Or did it mean, "No, I told her father something else since you've been gone"? Or did it mean, "No, she didn't commit suicide"?
In any case, it was a response Bex was desperate to pursue, although she was certain that, should she choose to do so now, the answer from Ho would, without a doubt, be a not-at-all cryptic "No." Obviously Officer Ho had something he wanted to tell her. Equally obvious was that he didn't want to do it at the present time, surrounded by the present people. So Bex would just have to wait. And tread carefully.
Strapped now for how to respond, Bex was saved from deciding between a lie she was once positive about and an inflammatory truth she only suspected, by Ralph — still pinned and so forced to make up the frustration through sheer volume — spitting out, "And who drove her to it, huh, boy? Who made my little girl put a noose around her neck?"
The choice of words made Coop, instinctively, raise a hand to his own throat He quickly realized what he was doing and flung down his hand as if it had touched something particularly foul.
"I — " He clearly meant to answer, but in that moment Coop's eyes were once again drawn to Omri in his car seat. Was he looking for a resemblance? Bex wondered. It was a pretty tough call. About the only thing six-foot-tall Coop and sixteen-inch Omri had in common was that they were both Caucasian, with two eyes, a nose, a mouth, the usual number of limbs. The baby might have had a cleft in his chin, but it was hard to see what was natural skin and what was a dent from the front of his jacket poking his jaw. The tufts of hair sprouting atop his head might have been a familiar, sandy color, but there were too few of them to really tell. There were no telling birthmarks, no hereditary red lines shaped like stork bites on the back of the neck that Bex could see. And, as far as anyone knew, the boy had yet to display so much as a hint of talent for landing triple jumps. But that she supposed, would come with time.
At this point, if asked to comment under oath, Bex would have to say that Omri looked about as much like Cooper Devaney as he did like Idan Ben-Golan as he did like the late Allison Adler. He was an identifiable baby human being. But that was about all.
In the silence of Coop gazing at Omri, Ralph's accusatory question hung in the air like the smell of tuna days after the last can was digested. Coop, as if possessed to do it, took a hesitant step in the infant's direction.
"Don't you even think about it, you son of a bitch," Ralph threatened.
Coop froze. Or at least the bulk of his body did. His eyes shifted nervously from Omri to Ralph and back again. He knew there was really nothing Ralph could do to stop him. Even if he weren't being held down and wanted to take another swing at him, the whole room knew his first blow had been a lucky shot. Coop was more agile, fitter, and don't forget, younger. He could easily take Ralph Adler if he really wanted to.
But Cooper Devaney was also, as far as Bex knew, one other thing. He was a decent kid who really didn't enjoy having anyone mad at him, much less filled with as much hate as Ralph seemed to be.
Yes, he wanted to see his son up close. But he also wanted to settle the situation before it went any further.
To that end, Coop dropped his attempt to approach Omri and pleaded with Ralph, "I didn't know Allie was pregnant. I swear to God, I didn't know."
"Oh, yeah?" Ralph's tone did not ring with newly converted belief. "Well, what did you think might happen after you screwed around with my daughter?"
"Allie and me... we were careful." Bex hoped the stuttered denial sounded more convincing to Ralph than it did to her, because she just wasn't buying.
“Tell him that." Ralph managed to pull out one arm from Ho's grip so he could jerk a thumb in Omri's direction.
As his tone now was merely sarcastic, no longer homicidal, Ho cautiously relaxed his hold. Ralph rubbed his sore shoulders with both hands, practically hugging himself, and glared, but he validated Ho's evaluation by making no move to launch another assault. Instead, he walked over to Omri, so that Ralph was blocking Coop's view.
Feeling like maybe he'd made some progress in trying to get across his point of view, Coop, somewhat encouraged, continued attempting to reason with his presumed son's grandfather.
"Mr. Adler," he said, "you have to believe me. Allison never told me she was pregnant. I was as stunned as you were when she announced she wasn't going to Worlds and then disappeared. I was devastated. I didn't understand what'd happened, what I'd done. Don't you remember how I kept calling you, asking if you'd heard anything?"
"I remember," Ralph said with a grunt, suggesting the groveling had hardly worked in Coop's favor. Then or now.
"I loved Allison. I would have married her."
"She didn't want to get married!" Ralph thundered so loudly, the baby, who'd already endured more than his share of yelling, finally broke down and, after an endless, silent moment wherein his mouth was wide open but no sound came out, burst into pitiful, tearless shrieks. His face folded into itself, the sides of his mouth drooping into a U, eyes squeezing into dry slashes, chubby cheeks quivering, then turning purple.
There were three men in the room. Two of them were presumably the little guy's family. At the first shriek, all three turned to look at Bex, each radiating a variation on, "You're a woman. Do something."
/> Bex wasn't a parent She'd grown up an only child. But she had babysat a lot during her teens, so she figured that did make her the most qualified temporary guardian. (Although hadn't Ho mentioned something earlier about having a daughter? But maybe he was the traditional sex-roles type.) Bex stepped around Ralph, unbuckled Omri from his car seat and picked the baby up. She rested his face against her chest and bounced him up and down in place for a few moments while soothingly humming, "Shhh..." After a few moments he settled down, stuck a fist in his mouth, and proceeded to chew it lustily while staring at the whiteness of the wall.
Ralph, Coop, and Ho stared at Bex not unlike she imagined the Ancient Greeks once gazed upon Prometheus bringing fire to his tribe. It was a very nice feeling, but neither here nor there at the moment.
Ralph realized as much, and opened his mouth to continue the howl that had once been so rudely interrupted.
However, before he could reach full volume, Bex hissed "Shhh!" and indicated the temporarily content baby with her chin. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head for good measure. That seemed to do the trick.
Instead of yelling, Ralph lowered his voice to an angry stage whisper as he hissed at Coop, "Allison didn't want to get married, you idiot. You claim you loved her. Did you ever listen to her? What did Allison want more than anything in the world?"
Coop stared at him blankly, suspecting a trick question and stymied as to what reply might not earn him another kick to the head.
"Well, it wasn't to get married, that's for sure! And it wasn't to get knocked up!" Ralph mocked in disgust. "Allie wanted to be a champion, that's what she wanted. Why else would she have put up with the three a.m. wake-up calls, and the bleeding sores on her feet, and the starvation diets, and the endless, endless rejections? She wanted to be a champion! She wanted to be a star. And you took that all away from her."
