by Ariana Rose
There is no amount of breathing techniques, essential oils, or mantras to hold this wave back. “I’ll tell Coach about dinner. I’d better get dressed. They won’t like it if we’re late. I’ll see ya.” I pick up my towel off the ground and walk alone back to my condo.
I’m sure Spencer is thrilled. He has more people to impress and as he can tell, I’m never more compliant than when they’re around.
Chapter 11
Spencer
I’m glad my mother talked me into bringing my suit, just in case. I’m glad I had it for my first dinner here and for this one now. In my first conversation with Cierra’s parents, they let Brian do all the talking. That is not the case tonight.
Nathan has a million stories about his stable of athletes and is quite proud of the new name he landed before the flight here. Cierra’s mother, Diana, is charming, and you never have to worry about a lull in the conversation when she’s around.
The wine is flowing with dinner, but I accept water only so I can sit back and take in the dynamic. Often, Cierra sits quietly and only speaks when spoken to, which is completely opposite anything I’ve seen. Brian coaxes her out once in a while, where I see the spark I recognize.
All the Avilas seem to want to know are the hard facts: What are we working on? What is Cierra’s true progress? How long do we have to go? And lastly, when will she be back in competition?
I don’t have the answers for most of these questions. What we are working on is easy enough. I make sure to let them know where we are and how far Cierra has come. She has come very far physically. I can see now part of what is holding her back mentally.
We all part to our separate rooms. Cierra leads the way. I watch as she enters the condo. Her shoulders are forward, her head is hanging slightly; she’s doing that thing with her thumb and the palm of her hand. My hope is this doesn’t carry into tomorrow. At least I got her parents to understand that our practices are closed.
I’m folding my jacket over the back of a chair when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I know without looking who it is. It’s Mom night. She calls this time every week, no matter how many times we’ve spoken during the week or even that same day. She calls it her Bear Hug.
“Hi, Mom. Right on time.”
“Hi, Spencer. How are you?”
Her tone is much more sedate than normal. “What’s wrong, Mom? Are you all right? Is Dad?”
“Don’t worry. We’re fine sweetheart. Everyone is healthy. I do have some news though.”
“Okay.” I loosen the tie around my neck. “I’m sitting. Tell me Mom.”
“I saw Marisa today. I ran into her in the parking lot at school on my way out. Spencer, she’s getting married.”
As if this day hadn’t gone sideways enough, this news blows in. I don’t know what to say. There are no words for what I’m feeling. I knew it was an eventuality. I didn’t think it would be with the next guy after me. “Spencer? Are you still with me?”
“Yeah, Mom. I’m still here. It’s just…”
“I know, sweetheart. They’re doing something small next month.”
“Next month? Jesus what’s the rush?”
“She’s expecting, Spencer. I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve gotta go, Mom. I can’t. I love you.”
“I love you too, Spencey Bear.”
I at least let her get that out before I kill the call and shut my phone off. I toss my cell to the right side of the bed and lie there in the dark. That should have been my ring, my child. This week was already going to be hard enough, now all the dates will combine into one big painfest I won’t be able to escape.
~~~
I lie in my bed until I know sleep won’t take me without help. Six pale ales do the trick. I fall asleep in the chair, with the last one two-thirds gone in my hand. The stale taste of last night is everywhere. No shower or toothpaste can cleanse this one.
I do try and take the inside of a beer glass smell off my body before trying to pour sweat from it. Maybe I should put Cierra in the pool today. Pool, then some learn to skate drills. I can keep her away and keep her quiet. I won’t have to answer any questions or possibly deal with any shit.
I turn my phone back on and I see a slew of texts. Mom had messaged Garrett, so he left a couple for me. Mom has a couple missed calls in there, as well as a couple concerned texts. The last text I saw was from Chance. Fuck. How could he know?
I leave the others unread and go straight for his.
Chance: Did she castrate your fingers?
Me: What?
Chance: The ice queen. You alive?
Me: Barely. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours. I think I need a few days off.
Chance: Take them. All work and no play….
Me: I’ll think about it.
I’ve got a lot to think about. First, I need to get this workout over with. That’s going to be a tough go.
I message Cierra and tell her to pack her swimming gear. I have her skates, which Brian gave me possession of weeks ago. We’ll see how this day progresses for both of us.
Chapter 12
Cierra
As if yesterday wasn’t embarrassing enough, today he gets me in a bathing suit. So yay for that! I know the water is good for me. I know it will get my lungs moving and pad my body, but damn. I’m already bobbing and trying to get used to the water when Spencer arrives. The stop clock on the wall says he’s twelve minutes late. He’s never late.
He’s in his workout gear. Wait. He’s not getting in?
“You’re not dressed.”
“These are clothes, Cierra. I’m dressed.”
“I mean you’re not in a suit. I just assumed…”
“Well, you assumed wrong. Are you ready to work?”
“Geez, what crawled up your ass and died?”
“That’s enough. We’re in training mode. Let’s act like it, shall we?” He’s treating me like my parents did last night. Super. I bob underwater and come up to slick my hair back. “I want you to grab the side of the pool and do flutter kicks. We’re going to do two-minute intervals.”
I mutter under my breath, “Where’s your whistle?”
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Literally nothing. Count it off.”
I feel like a pile of Jell-O when I’m done. We did an hour in the pool of kicks in different positions, walking, and even jogging. I pull myself out of the pool and sit on the side, letting my legs dangle in the water a little bit longer.
“We’ve only begun today.”
“Seriously? Are you a sadist?”
“We’re getting you on the ice today. Nothing insane just simple. Now go get dried off. You’re on the clock. I’ll see you in an hour.”
Spencer takes the sunglasses off the brim of his hat and puts them on before he flings the exterior door open. You’re like everyone else in my life, tell me what to do and walk away. Not today.
I chase after him best I can and holler at him up the hill. “Hey!” He keeps walking. “Dammit, Broten. Stop!” He turns to regard me and speak but I’m done. So done. “You’ve killed me in the pool for an hour. I’m not a machine.”
“You were. You will be again.”
“Says who? You? You don’t know the first thing about me. Have you tried to look at me in any other way than a paycheck? If you have, then I sure as shit have never felt it. I told you I wasn’t ready for the ice. I meant it. I don’t know when or if I will be. You need to accept it and deal with it.”
“I’m in charge of your rehab. Your body has been given to my hands.”
“Well, your hands suck! When is anyone going to understand what I need and want?”
~~~
Spencer doesn’t try to follow me, which is his first kind move today. I am able to dry off and change in the locker room off of the pool, and then I take a slow walk on one of the wooded paths. There is a cool stillness under the shade the leaves provide.
It is an amazing mask. It hides everything under a cover of g
reen. It hides my anger. It hides my fear. It hides my pain. Most of all, it hides my tears. After about an hour, I go back to the condo. I flop down on the bed and tuck a pillow under my knee and calf to give it, and myself, a break.
No sooner have I gotten comfortable than there is a knock at my door. “Cici, may I come in?”
It is my mother. Great. “Yeah, Mom. Come in.”
“Were you sleeping?”
“I was thinking about it, but no, not yet.”
“Good, honey, because I wanted to talk to you about Spencer.”
Finally, someone is seeing what I see. “I’m glad you want to talk about him. I do too.”
“A little bit ago, he asked to speak to your father, Brian, and I.”
“Is he leaving?” I ask.
“No. Not exactly. You both are.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
My mother takes a seat next to me on the bed. “Spencer is concerned about a specific portion of your training. He has an idea that might make all the difference. We all think it is worth a try. He’s going to take you two on a little trip. It’s just a few days.”
“Are you crazy? You want me to go on a vacation with him?”
“What he has in mind is not a vacation. He’s taking you to a training facility he knows of in California. You’ll be gone about a week.”
“As if being forced to be here isn’t bad enough, you want me to be alone with him all day, every day?”
“One day you will see this is all for the best. We trust him.”
“One day I hope you’ll trust me and care what I think is best for me.”
The only thing I trust is my gut. My gut is telling me I’m not going to win.
Chapter 13
Cierra
Why did I simply agree? I don’t.
This is another dump and run on my parents’ part. Where is my mother and what have they done with her? The mother I’ve known all my life would never have allowed me to go on a trip with a man, let alone one who is practically a stranger. What could Spencer have said in a twenty-minute meeting that would have convinced all of them to allow us to go on this road trip?
I only know I’m going to try to interact with him as little as possible and try to make this bullshit be over with quickly as I can. I close my eyes the minute we pull away from Sun Valley in his SUV. Goodie. A long-ass drive together instead of a flight. It isn’t an avoidance tactic, but it should have been. I am truly tired. I’ve been tired for weeks, if not longer. Spencer can be a full-on prick and is pushing me way too hard sometimes.
I’ve never been pushed to my limits quite like this. I think he gets off on it. Take yesterday for example. I feel like because he was in a shitty mood, he took it out on me. That damn smile of his when he gets the last word. God, I hate it. Well, if for no other reason other than spite, he’s not going to get it on this trip. Screw that!
I waver on the cliff between sleep and awake for a couple hours. I would come in and out of sleep to hear him talking to himself or even singing a little bit. I thought he only liked metal and classic rock because of what he played every day while we worked. One time I am in hover mode, and I think I hear him with Hootie and the Blowfish.
Without thinking I asked, “Are you singing Hootie right now?”
I think I startled him in his private concert. He makes this little throat clear, snort noise. It’s so funny I turn to look at him. When I do, he doesn’t look as I expect or have something smart to say. As my head rotates, he slides his hat brim down a little lower to hide his eyes and scratch through the stubble on his chin.
He’s never looked like a dirty hockey boy before. I didn’t pay attention when we left. If you didn’t spend nearly every day with him, you might miss it. I do spend that time with him, and I nearly did. He didn’t shave. Even from the side I can see his eyes are bloodshot. Pair that with him being late yesterday, things are adding up in the wrong direction.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah?” he answers in a garbled mumble.
“Are you okay?”
“I didn’t know you were listening. Next time speak up.”
“You don’t need to be a dick. I’m not trying to be one. We’re trapped in this car, so I thought I’d make conversation after all. Should have stuck to the original plan.”
Spencer props his left elbow on the doorjamb and tilts his head to rest on his fist as his body slides forward a little bit. “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well again.”
“If you dread this trip so much, why are we doing it? Why did you suggest it? It’s not like the doctors are telling us to. You know I don’t want to be here.”
“I’m well aware of what you like and don’t. You make it pretty clear at every turn. Remember chasing me up the hill?”
“There’s the dick again. Fuck this. I was trying to do something you also suck at. That’s caring.”
I close my eyes and turn my face back into the sun. I’m sitting here for a few minutes before I hear the biggest sigh of my life, followed by his voice. “I didn’t sleep at all. It’s my ex-girlfriend’s birthday today.”
He’s never mentioned anything personal to me before. I legit don’t know what to do. I get the feeling he needs to talk, but I’m not sure if I am the right person to listen. “Your ex? How ex is ex?”
“We split up over two years ago.”
I was thinking he’d give me more than that but nope. I thought I’d take a chance and probe further. “Was it a mutual thing or…”
He pauses for a while before answering. I’m not sure if he isn’t ready for the question or sure of his answer.
“How much do you remember of what I tell you?”
“I remember lots of things. You got hurt bad. You still wanted to play. You couldn’t here. You left for Australia.”
“Yeah, that’s the gist of it. Mari…that’s her name…” The way he says her name, it is like it’s like a precious piece of glass. “I knew I needed to try the AIHL. It wasn’t a matter of if I was going; it was when. From the moment I sat down with her, I could see it wasn’t the conversation she was thinking would happen when that night started. It came down to she realized she couldn’t ask me to stay and I couldn’t ask her to give up everything for me.”
“So, you broke up?”
“Smart move, right? I blew out my other fucking knee three weeks after I left. What was it all for then?”
He is asking that question as if he is still searching for the answer.
“Why didn’t you go get her back?”
He takes the hat from his head and slam tosses it down to the console between us. “I know you’re too young to get it, but there are some things you can’t go back for because it would be selfish of you to try.”
“Do you enjoy insulting me, or do you do it so often you don’t realize you’re doing it anymore?”
Holy shit! That was honest. It bordered on brutal even. I can see he’s truly thinking about what I said. “I’m sorry, Cierra. I’m sorry.”
“Pull over,” I tell him.
“Pull over? Why?”
“Because you’ve been driving over the center line for the last mile and a half and even though I dread where this mission is taking us, I’d like to not make it there dead. Pull over and let me drive.”
He slowly slides to the shoulder and reluctantly shifts the car into park. I adjust my compression sleeve before I climb from the car to tentatively make my way to the driver’s side and his door. It’s been a long time since I’ve driven. It makes me excited. I’ve missed it a lot. I guess besides the ability to get behind the wheel and go anywhere I want, when I want, it is about being able to have one damn thing that is in my control. Maybe there will be bright parts to this cluster.
I tug on the handle to open the door and Spencer doesn’t even move. He’s the one who is always first to everything. It’s annoying as fuck. He’s first to every rehab session, every workout, dinner, coaches’ meeting…there hasn’t been a time since we met that he
didn’t move first, until yesterday. But right now, he looks as beaten down on the outside as I feel on the inside.
I reach inside and touch his shoulder. “Spencer?”
He reaches up for my hand and gives it a glancing touch to break our contact. I take a step back to allow the space for him climb from the seat. In that moment, he’s not the bastard prick who’s been barking orders at me. He’s simply a boy with a broken heart to match his broken knees.
He’s mostly seen the bitchy side of me. It was safe because I didn’t know him. It’s easier to be a bitch than to work through my issues. I do have a soft side. It’s the side that needs to do something that could be fucking stupid.
He tries to pass me and I grab his wrist. Spencer first looks down at where my hand is then slowly back to my face. I don’t say anything. I decide that sometimes words are worse. I know, I’ve been there. I wrap my arms around his back and press my cheek to his chest.
His body. My God.
I’ve never seen him outside of his workout gear. I’ve never wondered what was underneath. This is the first time I’ve felt it. His chest is solid. My head fits perfectly between his pecs. He’s warm. Not like the sun on your face warm, but the kind of warm I can imagine feeling sharing a bed. My hands can feel the ripples of his muscles in his back.
His heart is slow at first until the shock of what I’m doing has worn off, and he makes his own decision. His hands hang loose at my side at first, then slowly slide around my waist and come to a stop, one across the small of my back and the other across my shoulder blades. I can feel his heartbeat against my skin. It’s pounding now.
There is a comfort in this I didn’t expect for myself. I didn’t realize how much I needed to be held, let alone having Spencer be the one doing the holding. His hands have only meant one thing to me up to this point: pain. They would push my stretches farther than I could go. His fingers would bark orders even when his mouth wouldn’t move.
