by Ariana Rose
“I can’t make that choice for you. I can give you every opportunity to succeed. You’re the one who will ultimately decide.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?”
“While Carolina was here this afternoon, your parents and I had an interview with a potential addition to the team.”
“Potential? Why are we adding to a team that isn’t even functioning?”
“We are functioning. We need you to join us. That is what Spencer will help us with.”
“Spencer? I don’t need another shrink.”
“He’s not a shrink, Cierra. He’s going to work with you on your physical therapy. He’s been where you are.”
“Been where I am? How?”
“He’s had your same injury not once, but twice. He’s an athlete just like you.”
“He’s a skater?”
“Yes. He was. He played hockey for the Tacoma Thunder in the National Hockey League for more than twelve years.”
I roll my eyes. “Played? Great.”
“You need to get on board with this and commit because it’s happening.”
“I’m an adult. How are you going to force me?”
“You’re right. You are an adult, which means I would hope you’d honor the promise you made to me and yourself. You said you’d give it your all through your Olympic year. I expect you to try.”
I want to argue. I want to fight. I do want to get out of here. It’s all too hard. Maybe I can convince this Spencer I can’t do this anymore and with his backup this can be over. “When do we leave?”
“Spencer will meet us in Sun Valley in a week.”
“Idaho. We’ll see if it’s more than just potatoes.”
Chapter 5
Spencer
It seems I’m going to get good at packing. With one video chat, I’ve gotten a new job. Dad is proud of my new position. Mom is too. She wishes she had more time with me before I go. If I’m honest, so do I. It’s been nice to feel taken care of and loved in only the way a mom can. I tried to make her feel better by saying it’s only a ten-hour drive and the flights are not that expensive. I made the joke, “It’s not like I’m on the other side of the globe.” That didn’t go over well.
The Avilas are looking to get Cierra back on track quickly. That is the right attitude. All progress can be made or lost in those first six weeks post-surgery. She’s already blown four weeks. Once I see all her files, talk to her doctors, and evaluate her, not only physically but mentally, we can make up for lost time.
I take the next day or so to get a few things handled. I see the doc myself to get a full update on what my knees, and whole body for that matter, can handle. He says I’m doing well. My left knee is actually better than my right. He cautions to take it easy on the ice, but I can do light workouts. When I get the courage to lace up for myself and open the jets, I will.
I also got the insurance back on my SUV so I can take that out. I’ve forgotten what it is like to be out on the open road in control. I’ll have plenty of time to find out. The old girl is a little dirty and is in desperate need of TLC so with the sun out, a wash and an oil change is in order. I haven’t been under the hood in a while. I hope I remember what to do.
The oil change ends up being like riding a bike. I go into autopilot with the classic rock blaring in the garage behind me. I rub a bit of grease off my hands with a rag and stare into the inside of my baby. You can eat off the engine.
“You missed a spot on your cheek.”
It’s been forever since I’ve heard that sweet voice. I look up and she’s shrouded in sunlight like an angel. Mari takes a step forward. It’s like no time has passed. Her hair is tucked behind the same ear. Her makeup is soft. So soft you’d never know she has a thing on. She’s got on her favorite pair of jeans with a flannel in dark greens. She walked right out of my mind and into my driveway.
“You look good,” she says.
“So do you.” I toss the rag down and take a couple steps toward her. We both say, “So how’ve you been?” at the same time. I smile and look away. “You first.”
“I’m okay. Getting by. I’m enjoying my students. This class has a lot of spirit.”
“That’s good. Really good.”
“Getting the old girl ready? Going somewhere?” She steps alongside me and peeks inside under the hood. This is a distraction to be sure.
“Yeah. You remember Garrett’s sister, Gabi?”
“I do.”
“Well, she connected me with an opportunity for some private training.”
“That’s great. Is it with a gym?”
“No. It’s at a training facility in Sun Valley, Idaho. There’s a figure skater there who has the same injury I have. She’s struggling. Gabs thought, with what I went through, it could be good.” I shrug my shoulders. I don’t know what else to say. Mari and I didn’t used to be awkward. She was my best friend.
“You’re leaving again.”
“I’ve missed you, Mar.” I reach up to touch her face but then stop myself right before I do.
“It’s nice to know you’ve thought of me. I missed you.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t? Leaving was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It was harder than my recovery.”
“It didn’t seem like it.” She starts twisting the corner of her shirt. It’s a nervous habit she’s always had. She’s never had to use it in conjunction with me before.
“I don’t want to argue. I didn’t know how to call and tell you what I was thinking or feeling.”
“I wish you had, but I suppose it doesn’t do any good to wish now. Spence, I’m…I’m seeing someone. Derek is the art specialist at the school. He just started last semester. He’s covering Joanie’s maternity leave.”
This news is like a knife through my heart. I knew she would move on officially someday. I didn’t think today would be the day I’d hear it with a name attached. “Mom didn’t tell me.”
“I asked her not to. I wanted to tell you myself. He’s kind. I think, under other circumstances, you’d be friends.”
“I’m not seeing anyone. I haven’t been with anyone in any way since you.” I don’t know why I say it like that. It sort of rolls out. I know all the places my head tends to go. Maybe it is to save her that or maybe it is the hurt deep inside me wondering how she moved on. “I didn’t mean to sound like a dick. I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never thought that of you. Not once.” I feel her hand slide into mine.
I give the back of her hand a gentle rub with my thumb. It was a thing I’d done a thousand times or more; something I thought I’d never do again. “He’d better treat you well or he will answer to me.”
“I know.” I can see her look down to where our hands are joined. I want to look at her face, but I don’t know if I have the strength. “Good luck in Idaho. I know you’ll do great.” She reaches up to cup my right cheek and turns my face so I will look at her. “You’ll be great.” She rises to her tiptoes and gives me the softest kiss on the lips. It takes everything I have not to pull her into my arms, slam this hood down, and make love to her right here and now.
But, I don’t.
I give her the kind of kiss she deserves. Soft. Sweet. Closure.
“I think I’ll always love you, Spencer.”
Before I can say anything, as quickly as she appeared, she disappears.
I slam the hood down on my old girl and my mother’s image appears in the shadow of the fence gate. The look on her face mirrors what my heart feels like.
“How much did you hear?” I ask.
“Enough, sweetheart. Enough.”
~~~
My mother didn’t share with my father about what happened this afternoon. I am grateful. It was bad enough to live it in real time, but a repeat would have sucked worse. One lesson I did take from it is that goodbyes need to be short. Long ones only hurt worse.
I decide to take off for Idaho a day early. I leave an open-ended airline credi
t on the mantle for Mom and Dad to use if they are able to fly out. Mom packs a lunch big enough for an entire army in a rolling cooler for my back seat. Dad gives me a hug and steps back for my mother. “This is not like last time,” I remind her.
“I know. I know. It doesn’t make it easier every time you leave though.”
“Call me every hour if you want to, if it makes you feel better.”
“No. You need your time too. And the distance. Process and be ready to go for the Avilas.” She does the thing where she’s picking nonexistent lint from my shoulders before she brushes the nonexistent wrinkles from them as well.
“I will text along the way and I will video chat you tonight, once I get settled.”
“I know.”
“Love you Mom.”
“I love you too, Spencey Bear. Now go. Give that girl all you’ve got.”
Chapter 6
Cierra
Detroit to Chicago. Chicago to Sun Valley. I want to take the crutches from gate to gate or gate to transport, but the answer every time I ask is no. It is too far. Jesus. First you yell at me for not moving enough then when I want to move it’s too much. Would you make up your damn mind!
I sit quietly on the ride from the airport to the resort. It isn’t worth the argument or the effort to do anything else. Coach B got us, or I should say Mom and Dad got us, a two-bedroom condo instead of a suite. Thank God. At least I’ll have the hope of a little privacy and not feel like I’m being watched all the time.
At first, I was pretty pissed about being forced to come here. Once I am able to get out of the car and look at the scenery, it feels better. We are pushed right up against the mountains and there are plenty of paths and gardens to get lost in if I need to. I’ll play my part as long as they need me to, then I can go back to whatever life will look like.
Coach B comes knocking on my door about five o’clock. “Yes?”
“You ready for dinner?”
“Dinner? Isn’t it early?”
“Only by an hour. It’s going to be a working dinner. Spencer got here a day early. I thought we could use the time to get to know each other before getting down to business tomorrow.”
“Oh goodie. A new warden.”
“That’s enough of that. Act like an adult, you’ll be treated like one. Act like this and you won’t. Simple as that. Be ready in ten minutes.”
Wow. Okay. Got it.
We make it down to the Sun Valley Club with the sun still high overhead. Coach holds the outside door for me as I hobble in. Just near the right of the host stand sits a lone man. His sunglasses are down. He’s leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, scrolling on his phone. He looks like he is some stuffy executive who is in need of a shave and a haircut. As I look around there seems to be no one else waiting. Please say this isn’t the secret weapon.
He slides his glasses to the top of his head, taking a bit of the mop with him. When he stands, my crutches come to above his waist. “Hello, Coach Mason, Brian.”
Coach B extends his hand. “Spencer, nice to see you in person. Cierra, this is Spencer Broten. Spencer, this is Cierra Avila.”
I balance on my left crutch and offer my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure. Still on the crutches? We’ll have to work on that. I have a connection for a better knee brace for you as well. It will allow for easier mobility.”
“See, ideas already. I like it. Do we have a table yet, Spencer?” Coach asks.
Straight into I’m irrelevant I see. This will go well.
“I was waiting for you. Cierra, would you like to pick the table? We’ll follow.”
Gee, I get a choice? Thank you. “My vote is one closest to the bar.”
“Lead on then, Princess. Your wish is our command.”
I look at Coach; he smirks but says nothing. I hobble past Mr. No Manners and slide into a chair about ten feet from the bar and slide my crutches away under the table. Coach sits to my left while Spencer opts for across instead of to my right.
This is how you want to lead off? Sounds like a plan. This will be over before it starts.
~~~
Before the menus are even opened, I’m told the drink I’m ordering is the last one for a while. With the phone his face was in earlier, Spencer pulls up his notes on a “plan” for me. He says it starts with attitude, diet, and then add in the rehab. Then he orders my dinner without even asking what I want, he texts me a copy of our daily routine and an outline of our week by week exercises. Who does he think he is? A drill instructor?
Coach seems to be down for everything. He’s letting Spencer run the show. I don’t understand. I thought this was about the team. The longer we sit here, the angrier I get. I stuff my face in silence to get this over with faster, while B and Spencer become fast friends. I can’t stomach this anymore. “Since my new routine starts tomorrow, I’d like to go back to my room and get prepared. Are we finished for tonight?”
“We can refresh in the morning. Sure. All you need to do is be dressed to move and have a good attitude. I’ll be by to get you at seven sharp.”
I think about clapping back with a smart comment, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction. I limp off alone. Before I exit out the front of the building, I look back at a handshake between them.
I stop on one of the winding paths back to my room. There is a text waiting from my mother.
Mom: How was dinner? Did you like Spencer?
Did I like him she asks? Jesus. This wasn’t a date.
Me: Boot camp would have been easier. Thanks for the keeper.
I have no idea how to navigate this obvious gang mentality. I hope something will come to me in my sleep.
Chapter 7
Spencer
My mother said I have a gift for picking up on everyone’s emotions but my own. This girl is easy as ABC. A is for attitude and ability. She has an attitude a mile deep. I don’t know if that’s part who she is or if it’s because of the injury. Only time will tell.
A is also for ability. Brian and I stayed at the restaurant for another thirty minutes, and he gave me a rundown on her former training schedule. She has the pure ability and the seeming God-given talent to regain her standing in the sport, but she seems to have given up as quickly as her body’s ability to perform did. That can be a slippery slope. I know. I’ve lived it.
B is for bitch. This is in the attitude category though as well. I have been warned she can be colorful. I also recognize the pain she’s in, both physically and mentally. We’ll see what happens as we work. Lastly, C is for challenge and courage. We’ll see if she can be challenged and have the courage to keep going, even if obstacles are thrown in her way. If it ends up being D for disaster, then this will be the shortest job I’ve ever had.
I sleep from about eleven to four in the morning. My eyes pop open and the thinking starts. The movies are on loop again. The first stars Chance and me. I rewind through all of our conversations, especially after my second blowout and surgery. His wisdom in all of this is going to be as essential as my own. I hope he’s all right.
The second is my mother’s face and words. My father and I have always drawn on her for strength. I reread her last text to me from yesterday. She gave me one of her favorite quotes. ‘The strongest people are not those who show strength in front of us, but those who win battles we know nothing about.’
How does she do that? It was a gentle reminder to be kind to myself and that she knows I’m still battling, even though I’m not telling her. It was also a not so gentle reminder to give Cierra some grace in her color. I don’t know what her battles are. She may tell me. She may not. The point is to know there are battles.
I get my sixty minutes of cardio in from five to six when I decide that sleep isn’t coming back. My shower after is a welcome one. I let the hot water pulse on my knees first then lean in and let it take over my neck. It’s a chance to create a moment of zen before I have to get my new pregame routine going.
Cierra’
s not going to follow the plan easily, so I’m preparing to be as tough as I have to be. Today is to get to know each other without Brian around. I’m going to give her a light workout test then it’s about the basics of how she can be independent, if she chooses. This whole thing for her is about choices.
I knock on their condo door at seven like I said I would. Instead of Cierra meeting me at the door, Brian greets me.
“Good morning. Is she ready?” He clears his throat, although he says nothing, but that tells me everything. “Which room is hers?”
“End of the hall.”
I walk past the coach and head straight for Cierra’s door. I’d love nothing more than to toss the door open and flip on the lights but that’s not appropriate here. I opt for the less caveman approach and knock. “Cierra? It’s seven. Time for work.”
“Five more minutes,” her groggy voice groans from behind the door.
“Five. I’m setting a stopwatch. I’m coming in when this hits zero, no matter what state you’re in. Your time starts now.”
Chapter 8
Cierra
I take the pillow next to me and whip it at the door. Who the hell does he think he is? I sit up and slide my body back. Here starts the pain. At least when I’m sleeping, I don’t feel the constant throb. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and my knee has doubled in size overnight. Fuck.
Grabbing for my crutch on the wall, I stand up slowly and make my way to the bathroom. He wouldn’t really barge in after five minutes, would he?
I get the necessities out of the way as quickly as I can and in the instant my hem of my tee shirt meets the waistband of my yoga pants my door opens.
“Jesus! Ever heard of knocking?”
Spencer stands there with his arms crossed. “I’m not being an asshole. I told you last night seven sharp, and I meant it. I knocked the first time and gave you the expectations. Know I always mean what I say, Cierra.”
