Walk on Water (26 page)

She thought of Ian, of the absolute miracle of kissing him in the snow, and her heart swelled hopefully. Ian might turn into the guy she dreamed of someday, but he wasn’t that guy yet. He couldn’t be. A bond like her parents had shared was forged through time and trials. It didn’t come from skating together, or physical attraction, or even from love at first sight.

I finally get it,
she thought, putting the lid on the box.
You have to walk through fire with someone before you can walk on water.

“After tomorrow, I have to get back on my diet,” Beth said, sliding the Dutch apple pie she’d just assembled into the oven. “I can’t remember the last time I ran this far off the rails. It’s been food, food, food ever since Thanksgiving.”

“Says the woman baking the pie.” Lexa looked up from the digital tablet Beth had given her for Christmas. She’d been lurking at the kitchen table for the past hour, pretending to study SAT words while trying to work up the courage to have a serious talk with Beth. Six days after Christmas she still hadn’t told her grandmother about her reconciliation with Blake. She didn’t want to ruin Beth’s holidays, but now that New Year’s Eve had arrived, she needed to speak up, and soon. She and Eric were supposed to start training again in a couple of days.

“This is the last dessert I’m making until Valentine’s Day,” Beth declared. “My resolution this year will be to lose these five pounds I’ve gained before February.”

Lexa smiled weakly. She’d been avoiding the scale for days herself, afraid to see the damage.

“What about you, kitten? Any New Year’s resolutions?”

Tell her,
Lexa thought. There would never be a better opportunity. She opened her mouth.

“I’ve been setting a terrible example having all this sugar around,” Beth went on obliviously. “But at least we’re eating junk
and
vegetables. If you’ve gained any weight, you’ll work it off as soon as you and Eric hit the ice again.”

Do it now!
Lexa told herself, but the anxious lump in her throat squeezed off her vocal cords.

“Are you seeing Eric tonight? Or is it just your old friends?”

“Yeah. Eric won’t be there.”

“Well, you’ll see him in a couple of days. Are you excited to get back to training? Weston and I were talking about having Keiko in again. Would you like that?

“Keiko? Why? Our programs are already choreographed.”

“Yes, but you’ve made such amazing progress since then. We think she could tweak things to add more base points. And it won’t be long before you’ll need an exhibition program. This isn’t a sure thing yet, so don’t get
too
excited, but there’s an invitational—”

“I need to talk to you.”

“What about, kitten?”

“I just . . . I need . . .” Lexa’s heart was breaking with the hurt she was about to cause. “I want to skate singles again. With Blake.”

Beth’s expression was stunned. “You . . . What?”

“I can do both! A lot of people skate pairs and singles.”

“As juniors! Name anyone who’s succeeded in both at the senior level.”

There wasn’t a name to give her and they both knew it, not if success was defined as winning major titles.

Beth softened her tone. “Kitten, I’m sorry you didn’t start in pairs years ago, but let’s not forget whose fault that was. And you’ve made such incredible progress! Why would you even consider skating with Blake again? What makes you think things would be any different?”

“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.”

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.”

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.”