Fighting for the Edge (26 page)

She let out an audible breath. “Well, I should speak with you both anyway.”

“I can put you on speaker.” I pressed the button and laid the phone face-up on my palm.

“Is Liza okay?” Sergei’s brow creased.

“She was in fight at the rink. Her face and arm have cuts.”

“What?” Sergei exclaimed.

I gave my own concerned look to the phone as if Elena could see us. “Are the kids still giving her a hard time about junior nationals?”

“Not only nationals. Now they have new thing to taunt her. They talk about you and Sergei.”

A sense of dread filled me, and the arm I was using to hold up the phone weakened. I rested my elbow on the console.

Sergei’s jaw clenched as did his grip on the steering wheel. “What did they say?”

“She does not tell me except it is about Emily’s pregnancy.”

“Did Liza start the fight?” he asked.

“Yes. Other girl, Olivia, have cuts, also. I speak with her mother and tell her how she has been so cruel. I think it get better before but now this.”

“I’d like to talk to Liza,” Sergei said.

“She is in her room. I call her.”

Silence came over the line, and I looked at Sergei. “Whatever they said must’ve been pretty bad for Liza to get in a fight. I’ve never even heard her raise her voice to another kid.”

He shook his head and stayed quiet, eyes firmly on the tree-lined road. We’d entered a more rural section of the island on the way to Chilmark. The sunlight didn’t seem as bright as it had before.

A brief shuffling sounded on the phone, followed by Liza’s tiny voice. “Hi.”

“Your mom told us everything,” Sergei said. “Are you okay?”

“I just have a few scratches.”

“What did Olivia say to you?” he asked.

Nothing but dead air came in reply. The feeling of dread became more overwhelming.

“Sweetheart, tell us what she said,” Sergei prodded.

Liza sniffled. “She said… she said Emily is going to kill the baby if she keeps skating.”

My stomach dropped, and my hand flew to my mouth. Sergei had the same reaction, rubbing his mouth and then his face. The car suddenly seemed to be moving at a much higher speed as the barren trees whizzed by. It didn’t take a lot to make me woozy these days.

“Can you slow down?” I murmured between my fingers.

He glanced at me and eased way up on the gas pedal. I pressed the window button, cracking open the glass a few inches to bring in some fresh air. I didn’t care that it was forty degrees outside.

“Liza,” Sergei started but then paused and rubbed his face again. He took a deep breath and began once more, “Liza, the baby will be fine. This girl… Olivia… she’s just trying to upset you. I want you to stand up to her, but getting into a fight isn’t the right way.”

“She’s so mean, Dad,” Liza cried. “The stuff she was saying was so horrible. I just wanted her to stop.”

“I know, but the best way to make her stop is to stand up to her and tell her you know what she’s saying isn’t true. If this ever happens again, promise me you’ll do that.”

Louder sniffling mixed with the static on the line. “I will.”

Elena returned to the phone, and while she and Sergei discussed Liza’s punishment, I remained silent. The sickening sensation in my stomach had tied itself into a tight knot. I couldn’t help but wonder how many people thought I was an unfit mother-to-be. I’d avoided reading the internet message boards the past week for my own sanity, but I didn’t know if I had the willpower to stay away from them any longer.

After I hung up the call, I dropped the phone into the cup holder and turned toward the window. A cold whistle of air streamed across my face, drying the moisture that had gathered in my eyes.

“Em.” Sergei squeezed my knee. “Don’t give a second more of thought to what some stupid kid said.”

I nodded but didn’t look at him. The side road to Aunt Debbie and Uncle Joe’s summer home came into view, and Sergei turned us down the narrow lane. He parked in the long driveway in front of the two-story house, and we met at the rear of the SUV to retrieve our bags.

Sergei popped open the back and then put his hands on my waist. “From this moment on, the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s only you and me and this quiet, peaceful island.”

I nodded again, still not speaking. How I wished I could snap my fingers and forget what I’d heard, but it was stuck in my brain on repeat.

Sergei grabbed both of our overnight bags, and I carried my laptop case. I’d brought my computer so I could finally organize all the photos I’d taken at our events that season. Now I was thinking I could also use it for another purpose. The house had wi-fi…

We brought our stuff up to the guest room, and I sat on the bed and unzipped my tall boots. “I think I’ll lie down for a little while. The ferry plus the car ride made me kinda queasy.”

“Do you want some crackers?” Sergei opened his duffel bag and pulled out a box of saltines. “Or I can go to the store and pick up something else.”

The fact that he’d thought to pack crackers for me melted my heart. I stood and wrapped my arms around him.

“I’m okay. I’m not really hungry. I just need to be still and it’ll pass.”

He kissed my forehead. “Okay. I’ll be outside getting wood for the fireplace. Yell if you need me.”

I took off my boots and lay on top of the burgundy comforter, closing my eyes, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the computer a few feet away. I got up and brought it onto the bed with me. Lying back against the pillows, I watched the screen come to life with the background photo of Sergei and me in Red Square in Moscow. We’d taken it during the world championships the prior year, and I wore a huge smile as I showed off my gold medal. When would I finally look that happy about being pregnant?

I clicked on the internet and went to the Skate World message board on my favorites list. Not surprisingly, there was a whole thread dedicated to my situation, and it was already ten pages long. My finger hovered over the touchpad as I hesitated to tap on page one. How many times over the years had Sergei told me not to read the board? The posters never held back in their comments, which were sometimes downright cruel. But morbid curiosity caused my finger to click.

The first few comments were all by supportive fans who thought Chris and I could maintain our performance level even with the reduced training. I scrolled down the page and read the next comment:

What in the world is Emily thinking, trying to skate at the Olympics?
How can an Olympic gold medal be more important than the health of her
baby?

My throat ached with tears, but I couldn’t rip my eyes away from the screen. I clicked the next page, and the first poster said:

Talk about misplaced priorities. There’s no way I’d put my body at risk like that even with the Olympics at stake.
If something happens to the baby, a gold medal isn’t going to make it all better.

And then another:

I don’t know if she’s ready to be a mother if she’s this reckless.

I slapped the computer shut and muffled my cry into the pillow. Why hadn’t I been more worried, more insistent on putting the baby first and my competitive dream second? I’d been so obsessed with my Olympic dream for so long, and it consumed so much of my emotional energy. Shouldn’t I feel just as strongly about the baby? What was wrong with me? My queasiness grew heavier as my tears flowed faster, and the rising bile added to the burn in my throat.

Since I’d found out I was pregnant, my focus had been all on skating, skating, skating. I’d convinced myself that I couldn’t think about anything else until after the Olympics, but was that how someone carrying a child should feel?

I curled into a ball, clutching my stomach. When I looked up, I saw Sergei peering around the door frame.

“Em?” He rushed onto the bed and brushed my hair away from my face. “Are you feeling worse? Are you hurting?”

I shook my head slightly and mumbled through the tears, “It’s not that.”

“Then what–” He noticed the laptop next to me. “Oh, no. Were you on the Internet?”

I swallowed hard. “Do you think I’m horrible for putting the baby at risk?”

“No, of course not.” He pushed the computer away so he could scoot closer to me. “You’re listening to the doctor, taking good care of yourself…”

“But something could still go wrong. There could still be an accident.”

“You’re doing everything you can to keep yourself safe and healthy. You’re amazing me every day with how you’re fighting through this.”

I blinked away the blurriness from my tears and gazed up at him. “You’ve been so worried, though. Deep down, don’t you wish I would quit?”

“No.” He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Because you would be devastated if you had to stop now, and I couldn’t stand to see you hurting like that. I do worry, but I’d feel the same even if you weren’t skating. That’s just me being a protective father-to-be.” He smiled and wiped a tear from my cheek. “I believe in you and that you can still make your dream happen. Just think about the story we’ll be able to tell our little boy or little girl… how he or she was a part of this incredible experience.”

I tried to smile, but my quivering chin wouldn’t cooperate. Sergei’s connection to our child and his protective instincts had already kicked in full force, but mine hadn’t blossomed yet. That seemed so backwards.

I sat up, and he cradled me in his arms. “What people on the Internet say… what people anywhere say doesn’t matter. All that matters is what I’ve known about you since the day I met you. You are strong and determined, and you put your beautiful heart into every single thing you do. That’s how I know you can have it all. The baby, the Olympics, everything.”

His shining blue eyes held so much love. For me
and
the baby. I couldn’t tell him I was still grappling with my own emotions. I didn’t want him to know I wasn’t the excited expectant mother I should be.

****

Aubrey sipped her green tea and let her gaze wander from her laptop screen to the busy rush hour scene outside Starbucks. A constant stream of cars hummed down Beacon Street as did people on foot. Since she’d spent almost every evening in the coffeehouse the past couple of weeks, she’d begun to recognize some of the faces of the professionals on their way home from work.

She looked further down the street toward her apartment. Chris had to have noticed she’d been avoiding the place as much as possible, but he hadn’t said a word. When she wasn’t at Starbucks, she was either hanging out with Nick or holed up in her bedroom. Only a few days remained before they’d leave for Torino, so she just had to keep it up a little longer. As soon as the Olympics were over, she could move back to the Cape and start making plans for the rest of her life.

Her eyes lowered to the computer screen and one of the possibilities for that future life. Boston Architectural College. It had a highly-ranked design program and was located just a few blocks away on trendy Newbury Street. She’d walked by the school a few times since she’d been in the city, but she never knew it had a School of Interior Design until she’d done some online research.

She clicked on the admission requirements and was halfway down the list when her phone chirped. She picked it up, and her eyes widened when she saw Marley’s name above the text. It read:

Do you have some time to talk?

She couldn’t type fast enough in reply:

Definitely! I’ll call you in a few minutes.

After packing her laptop into her messenger bag, she threw on her jacket and grabbed the phone and her cup of tea. She joined the other hustling people on the sidewalk and raced to the apartment. Stopping on the stoop of the brownstone, she sat on the stairs and set her cup next to her. Chris was home, so she’d have more privacy outside.

Marley answered on the first ring. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Beyond that, she didn’t know what to say. It felt strange to be tongue-tied while talking to one of her best friends.

Marley broke the silence. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between you and Chris and what you said about not being able to stop your feelings.”

“I was just babbling and not making any sense.”

“No, I think you were. It made a lot of sense once I had time to really think about it. We’ve been friends a long time, and I’ve never heard you mention the word feelings when you’ve talked about a guy. That meant this had to be a pretty big deal for you.”

“I don’t know what I was saying–”

“It’s okay,” Marley interrupted her. “I realized you wouldn’t have gotten involved with Chris unless you really fell hard for him, and I can’t blame you because I know what that feels like.”

She let what Marley had said sink in, hoping she’d correctly heard the understanding in her voice.

“Are you saying you’re okay with what I did?”

She didn’t immediately reply, and Aubrey huddled her knees to her chest. The evening was growing darker and colder by the moment.

“I’m saying I know the kind of friend you are, and I know you didn’t want to hurt me,” Marley said.

Aubrey tilted her head back and exhaled. “I’m so glad to hear you say that.”

“It’s still really weird for me to think of you and Chris together, but if you make each other happy, you deserve to have that.”

The heaviness in her heart that she couldn’t seem to shake flared stronger and deeper. She hugged her knees tighter.

“There’s no chance of us getting together. Chris wasn’t ever serious about me.” She felt a waver in her voice, so she took a breath. “I think I was more of a rebound thing for him.”

“That doesn’t sound like Chris.” Marley hesitated. “Maybe you should tell him how you feel.”

“No. That would be another huge mistake. He made it clear we weren’t…” She bit her lip. “That it didn’t mean anything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You were right. We don’t make a whole lot of sense together anyway, so… and I have bigger things to focus on right now. Are you ready for Torino?” She had to change the subject before she became any more strangled by emotion.

“I already started packing. I’m
so
ready to go.”