“Did you hear what I said?” Robin asked.
“Yes. I’ll call her.” Alison had no intention of calling Cynthia, especially when she hadn’t even had the courtesy to tell her about Grant moving out, but she’d say anything to make Robin go away.
“That’s amazing,” Robin said. “I’m so glad I ran into you today.”
“Me, too,” Alison said.
Becca walked over and placed her coffee on the table, leaning down to give Alison a hug. She hung her tote on the back of the empty chair and sat down.
Now Alison had no choice but to introduce them. “Robin, do you know Becca? We used to teach together.” She prayed that Robin wouldn’t pick up on the energy between them.
“Nice to meet you,” Robin said, turning her attention back to Alison. “Are you going back to work, soon? You seem like you might be ready.”
“Maybe soon.” Since her speech had improved, people seemed to think she was completely recovered. Though her sentences were more fluid, it still took a lot of effort to find words and string them together. And no matter how hard she tried, some words still eluded her.
“I hope so.” Robin waved goodbye. “It was great to see you today and nice to meet you, Becca.”
“This seems so formal,” Becca said, once Robin was gone.
“I know,” Alison said. She didn’t know how to look Becca in the eyes and say what she needed to say, that their relationship had to slide over to the back burner for a bit.
“I could have picked you up,” Becca said.
Alison took a sip of iced coffee, thankful to the person who had invented the straw. When she used one, she almost never dribbled. They may be terrible for the environment, but that was the least of her concerns.
“I want to start doing things on my own.”
“Should we pretend this is a Tinder date?” Becca said. “Ask each other get to know you questions? It’ll be fun.”
“Shhh …” Alison made a quiet down motion with her hand, looking around to see if anyone else looked familiar: parents from school, Michael’s coworkers, more of Cynthia’s annoying friends. News of her divorce was probably spreading around town, so she didn’t want to create more fodder for gossip. Maybe meeting at Starbuck’s hadn’t been a good idea.
“Now you’re making me nervous,” Becca said. “I feel like I never really know what’s going on in your head.”
“I want to be honest,” Alison said “This isn’t easy.”
“What’s not easy? Stop talking in code. Just tell me what you’re trying to say.”
“I’m feeling … overwhelmed.” Alison wanted to say more, but the words were slow to come.
“Overwhelmed with what?” Becca said, a look of concern on her face. “The divorce?”
“Sort of. I don’t … know.”
“I need you to be more specific.”
“Money for one. Not enough.”
“I manage it. You’ll just have to be more frugal.”
“I’m not used to it.”
“To not having Michael’s big bucks? We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can move in together.” She looked so sexy, the strap of her tank falling off her shoulder.
“Not just the money,” Alison said. “It’s everything at once.”
“You are so much better than you were,” Becca said. “You’ve really come a long way.”
Alison gathered herself. She needed to make Becca understand her. “A lot farther to go. I need to feel good about myself before … someone else.” It was less than eloquent, but she’d gotten the point across.
“I can help you recover. You don’t need to push me away.”
“One more thing,” Alison said. “I’m not ready for rainbow flag.” She’d been doing a lot of thinking about labels. Becca wanted her to stick a LESBIAN sign on her forehead for all the world to see. Alison wasn’t there yet and may never be.
“Coming out isn’t as big a deal as you’re making it,” Becca said. “People will accept you, and if they don’t, you don’t need them anyway. It helps you figure out who your true friends are.”
“It’s too much.”
“What are you trying to say?” Becca’s eyes were glossy. “Are you breaking up with me?” That wasn’t it. Alison didn’t want to break up. She just needed to put on the brakes until her life was more settled. The dejected look on Becca’s face made Alison want to take her in her arms and kiss the tears away.
“No,” Alison whispered.
“Then what?”
“I need some time. Can you can be patient?”
“I’m doing my best.” Becca wiped the tears from her cheeks with a brown paper napkin. “I’m not trying to be pushy. I just know this is right, and I don’t want to waste any more time.”
“I know.”
“So where do we go from here?” Becca asked.
“One step at a time.”
“I’ll follow your lead.”
“Alright,” Alison said. “Not ready for big ann … announcement.”
“So, keep it on the down low?” Becca said.
“Yeah,” Alison smiled. “On the down low.”
CHAPTER THIRTY - THREE
Sadie
March 25, 2019
TWO DAYS AFTER EMMA’S ACCIDENT, Sadie pulled her leg warmers over her tights, wishing she could pull them up over her whole body and hide inside. She hadn’t wanted to come to practice today, but her parents had insisted Sadie keep to her regular schedule. She finished lacing up her skates and stood up, centering her weight over her feet. No matter how many years she’d been skating, it still took a moment to get her equilibrium on the thin silver blades. Today, she wasn’t sure anything was going to feel right. Emma wasn’t here.
When she reached the rink, Coach Volkov called the girls over to the boards.
“You all need to be aware of something that happened this weekend,” Coach said.
Sadie saw the looks of concern on the other girls’ faces. Though she knew exactly what Coach was about to say, her teammates had no idea.
“Emma had an accident on Saturday night.” There was a gasp followed by whispers. Sadie stepped onto the ice and joined the others. “She’ll be okay, but her ankle is pretty banged up. She made it through a long surgery and just came home this morning.”
“Surgery?” Natalie said. “It was that bad?” The second-best skater on the team, Natalie must have been thinking about how Emma’s absence would affect her chances to go to the Olympic trials.
“They needed to line the bones up to help them heal,” Coach said.
“What does that mean?” Natalie asked. She hadn’t asked it outright, but what Natalie wanted to know was whether Emma would be back.
“Will she be back?” Sadie asked. She figured she’d save everyone the trouble and ask the question out loud.
“Not for a while,” Coach said. “She’ll start physical therapy in a few weeks and then we’ll play it by ear.”
When Coach said “play it by ear” it meant there was no way it would happen. Emma was never going to skate again. Maybe she’d put on a pair of crappy rental skates with her kids in twenty-five years at some stupid pop-up rink on her local golf course, but her competition days were over. The second her toe caught the curb and she landed in the street, all of her hard work had evaporated. Sadie would never forget that moment, Emma’s body in a heap, the blinding glare of headlights, the screeching of brakes as the bus veered out of the way. Sadie tried to wipe the memory away so she could focus on what Coach was saying.
“I’ve made a plan to fill in the gaps,” Coach said.
“But the Bay State Games are twelve days away.” Natalie’s voice squeaked with nerves. “How will we compete without her?”
“We’ll make it work,” Coach said. “Today’s practice will be dedicated to changing the choreography of the precision line routine to account for her absence.”
The whispering had turned to loud murmurs, anxiety levels clearly raised by Coach’s surprise announcement
.
“And Sadie?” Natalie asked.
“Sadie will have to sit out the pairs competition. With so little time, it’s too late to sub in someone else.”
As soon as Sadie exited the rink, she saw Piper standing off to the side, smoking a cigarette. What was she doing here? She didn’t skate and would have no reason to be hanging out here. Emma’s mom’s SUV was parked by the curb and Sadie didn’t want to keep her waiting. Sadie already felt bad that Mrs. Wright had offered to pick Sadie up despite Emma’s injury.
“Oh hey,” Piper said, flicking her cigarette onto the ground. “I was waiting for you.” She sounded so nonchalant, like nothing had happened between them.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m not allowed to come say hello to my friend?”
“I guess,” Sadie didn’t know what Piper wanted from her.
“I have something to say,” Piper said.
“What?”
“I shouldn’t have given your little friend those pills. She wasn’t ready.”
Sadie waited to see if there was anything more. If this was Piper’s idea of an apology it was pathetic. The way she said “little friend” was so condescending, like Emma was a toddler in preschool.
“Is that all?” Sadie asked. “Because my ride is here.”
“No, there’s more. I have four tickets for the P!NK concert next week. There’s one for you if you want it.”
Sadie had seen awesome videos of her concerts on YouTube with all sorts of crazy acrobatics and trapeze tricks. She would have loved to see the spectacle for herself, but she knew she couldn’t accept. It would send Piper the wrong message, that her friendship could be bought.
“How did you get them?”
“My mom scored them,” Piper said.
“Your mom?”
“Yeah. She has her ways,” Piper said. Sadie realized she didn’t care to hear anything more about Piper’s mom or her ways. She didn’t care if she was in jail, at home baking brownies and packing lunches, or in Zimbabwe. It was none of Sadie’s business, and the less involvement she had with Piper and her family, the better.
“I’m sure she does,” Sadie said. “Anyway, I have to go.”
“We can give you a lift.” Piper pointed to a black pick-up truck parked in the circle, Brian at the wheel.
“I’m all set.” Sadie hoisted her skate bag onto her shoulder and started walking toward Mrs. Wright’s car.
“Do you want the ticket or not?” Piper asked.
“No,” Sadie said. “I’m good, thanks.”
“You’re serious?” Piper said. “It’s your loss.”
Sadie ignored her and opened the car door. It would be awkward sitting in the back with no one else in the car, so Sadie sat in the front, fitting her skate bag at her feet.
“Is that the Morris girl?” Mrs. Wright asked.
“Yeah,” Sadie said.
“I read something about her mother in the Newton Reporter the other day. Something about a restraining order.”
“Oh.” Sadie didn’t want to talk about Piper or her stupid mother.
“How was practice?”
“Fine, I guess,” Sadie said.
“Did you girls work on the precision line?”
“Uh-huh.”
“How’s it looking?”
“Okay.” They were having the same conversation they would have had if Emma was in the car and everything was normal, but things were far from normal. After Coach’s announcement, practice had not gone well. All the skaters felt a sense of imbalance, their spins not as centered, their jumps not as high, their footwork messy and imprecise.
Mrs. Wright turned onto the main road. “Did Coach say anything about Emma?”
“Yeah.” Was that really a serious question? Did she think no one would notice when their star skater failed to show up less than two weeks before the biggest competition of the year?
“What did she say?”
“Just that Emma broke her ankle and we would play it by ear.” The more she thought about that phrase the less sense it made.
“Yes,” Mrs. Wright said. “That’s just what we’ll do.” She clicked on the radio and “Happy” by Pharrell Williams came through the speakers. Sadie had found it catchy when it first came out, but now it sounded repetitive and irritating. She wasn’t feeling particularly happy and she knew Mrs. Wright wasn’t either.
When they pulled into the driveway and Mrs. Wright turned off the car, the silence felt jarring. Now, Sadie missed that song, anything to fill the void. Sadie was supposed to have dinner here and hang out until her mom picked her up on the way home from the hospital. Sadie hadn’t seen Emma since she’d left her in the ER Saturday night and she felt nervous, her stomach making weird noises.
“Well,” Mrs. Wright said. “Emma will certainly be glad to see you. She’s been bored out of her mind.”
Mrs. Wright opened the front door and went upstairs, leaving Sadie in the entryway. Emma was lying on the couch, her leg elevated on two pillows, watching an episode of Gilmore Girls. Sadie used to watch that show, too, but when Piper made fun of her for watching it, she stopped. She’d forgotten how much she loved it: the quaintness of Stars Hollow, the sweet relationship between Rory and Lorelai, Rory’s obsession with books and reading. Watching it felt like putting on a cozy old sweatshirt she would wear around the house, but never in public.
Sadie sat down in the armchair next to the couch. On screen, Rory was at the dance wearing a satiny dress, her arms wrapped around a guy’s neck.
“Dean is the cutest,” Emma said.
“Yeah.” He wasn’t actually Sadie’s type. She usually liked the geekier guys, but now was not the time to disagree with Emma. “Totally hot.”
Sadie looked down at Emma’s leg, her ankle imprisoned by a thick white cast, several thick metal pins piercing the plaster at right angles and attaching to a large scary looking metal contraption. It made Sadie think of Frankenstein with those metal bolts coming out of his neck.
“Crazy looking, isn’t it?” Emma said. “It’s called an external fixator.”
“An external what?”
“Fix-at-or,” Emma said, pronouncing each syllable separately.
“Does that mean it’s going to fix things?”
“One can only hope,” Emma said. “How’s Alison doing?”
“I know she’s awake, but not much else,” Sadie said. “My mom said she’s going to need physical therapy.”
“So will I,” Emma said. “It’s all the rage.”
“I guess. When do you start?” A few years ago, Sadie’s mom had torn a tendon in her thumb playing tennis. She’d worn a splint and gone to physical therapy twice a week. Sadie wasn’t sure what happened at therapy, but she remembered her father complaining that the sessions were expensive, something about having to pay the deductible, whatever that meant.
“I need another surgery to get this thing taken out first.”
“Did your surgeon say anything about skating?”
Emma shook her head. “My mom asked, but he wouldn’t say anything definite. He said everyone heals differently and he can’t make any promises one way or the other.”
Sadie could hear the wobble in Emma’s voice. Emma had been skating since she was four, her whole life dedicated to practicing routines, reviewing choreography in her head, fantasizing about standing on the Olympic podium with a medal around her neck. Up until Saturday night, that fantasy had a chance of becoming reality.
“He wouldn’t make any predictions?”
“No.” Emma started to cry, her brave facade gone. “Why did this happen? I knew it was a mistake to go with you. Nothing good happens around that girl.”
Blaming everything on Piper would be an easy thing to do, but Sadie didn’t think that would be fair. Sadie had been the one who’d invited Emma, encouraged her to hang out with Piper and the guys, failed to stop Piper from giving Emma the pills. The pills were her fault, too. She’d looked on as Piper rummaged throu
gh her dad’s nightstand and taken them. If she’d stood up to Piper that day, focused less on impressing her and more on doing what was right, this whole disaster could have been prevented.
“I know,” Sadie said. She wanted to apologize but she couldn’t figure out how. She didn’t think a simple “I’m sorry” would suffice when Emma’s lifelong dream had disappeared before their eyes. She stood up and moved to the couch, gently lifting Emma’s leg and the pile of pillows, then sitting back down with her friend’s injured leg on her lap. “Em, I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing you can say. My ankle is totally busted up and I’ll probably never skate again.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“There’s more,” Sadie said, her heart pounding.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s something I haven’t told you.” Sadie put her hand on Emma’s knee above the cast. She needed to tell her before she lost her nerve, but she couldn’t make herself do it.
“What’s going on?” Emma asked. “You got so serious all of a sudden.”
“This is serious.”
“What is it?”
Sadie took a deep breath. “The pills ….”
Emma was looking her with a look of complete trust. She’d been such a loyal friend for so many years and look what Sadie had done to repay her loyalty.
“I made the decision to take them,” Emma said. “That had nothing to do with you.”
“But you don’t know where Piper got them.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past that girl. I told you about her mom, and her brother and that gross friend of his didn’t seem much better—”
“This isn’t about Piper. It’s about me.” Sadie couldn’t let Emma continue badmouthing Piper and her family. Everything she said may be true, but that was irrelevant. She had to own up to her involvement, to be honest instead of continuing to hide behind lies.
“What are you talking about?”
“Piper stole the pills from my father’s drawer, and I stood by and watched her do it.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open. “What do you mean?”
“It was my fault,” Sadie said. “I let her steal them.”
Better to Trust Page 23