Jennifer looked at Brenda with eyes wide and excited as she pulled a huge, chunky, chocolate-chip cookie from the jar. “He’s good.”
Brenda looked at Jennifer blankly.
“I mean, I know you have a history together that isn’t quite perfect, but that doesn’t mean you can’t skate together. Right? I mean, really. He’s at all your recitals, and he’s been watching you for the past couple years like you’re the only girl ever to skate on ice. He’s probably the best partner you could hope for.” She bit down on the cookie, and her eyes rolled back in her head. “This is delicious.”
“It’s just such a stupid idea,” Brenda said. She didn’t want to let on that she was even slightly flattered that Scott had been at almost all her recitals. He’d participated as well. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to competitions. Most of the time Brenda assumed he watched her because he had to be there anyway. But her heart did a flip knowing that he’d been watching her, and other people had seen him watching her. “I’m a single figure skater, Jen. I don’t do the pairs thing.”
“Looks like you do now,” Jennifer said, swallowing the last bite of cookie before reaching into the jar for another one. “And I think it’s awesome.”
Brenda smiled and took a sip of her coffee.
“The thing is, Bren, they have pairs in the Olympics, too. Isn’t that where you want to be?” She took a bite of her second cookie.
“Yeah, I know. But I always thought there was something more to it if you made it on your own, you know? This way, relying on someone else makes it seem like I wasn’t quite good enough.”
“Tell that to all the other famous pair skating champions. They’ll kick your butt. World champions, they are. I sounded like Yoda just then, didn’t I? World champions, they are. When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not.” Jennifer laughed out loud at her own joke.
Brenda smiled, trying hard not to laugh and encourage Jennifer too much. Instead, she studied the coffee in her cup. “It just feels weird, that’s all.”
“I’m sure it does, Bren. I’m really sorry about your accident. We were all so worried. Well, maybe not Stacy, but the rest of us really were freaking out. Whether you knew it or not, you were always skating with partners. All of us were right there with you through the double axels and spins and the other gravity-defying maneuvers you used. Now, you’ll just have a really cute guy in our place. Boo-hoo for you,” Jennifer said, pretending to be mad.
“Thanks, Jen. That’s nice of you to say.”
“You can’t give up, Bren. Not now. Not after you made it to Sectionals. You’ve got what it takes, and so does your partner. And like Nancy Chen said, Nika Babikov and the Olympic committee won’t know what hit them.”
“Oh my gosh! She didn’t say that!”
Both girls laughed out loud, attracting the attention of Brenda’s brother, who’d just walked in the front door.
Jennifer was pulling her big, furry hat back on her head and looked up at Peter, batting her eyelashes and smiling.
“Hi, Jennifer. I didn’t know you were going to be here. How are you?” he said, his eyes twinkling. “That’s an amazing winter ensemble you’re wearing.”
“Hi, Peter. You don’t think it’s too poofy?”
“No way. I think it suits you perfectly. Would you like a warm-up on your coffee?” He nearly tripped over himself making his way to the counter to grab the coffee pot.
“Oh, I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to get home. Today is my nana’s sewing bee at the library. She gets a real attitude if she gets there late and misses the gossip. She swears whoever is the last to show up is the one they’re first to talk about.”
“Well, we can’t have that. Next time, plan to stay a little longer.”
“I’ll be sure to do that. Brenda; you take it easy, and I’ll see you at the rink. Bye, Peter. It was nice seeing you.”
She innocently inched her way past Peter on her way out the front door, only to peek back at him over her shoulder before she left.
“Bye, Jennifer. Have a nice day,” he cooed.
As soon as the door shut, Peter whirled around and glared at Brenda. “Why didn’t you tell me Jennifer was coming over? I would come right over instead of going to Roger’s place to work on his car.”
“First, I didn’t know she was coming over. And second, even if I did, the last thing I need to see is you two making googly-eyes at each other. And third, I didn’t know you were so interested in knowing when Jennifer was coming by.”
“Heck, yeah. I’m interested in knowing when any of your friends is coming by.”
Brenda rolled her eyes and nudged her brother in the ribs as she walked past him, heading to her room. Jennifer had given her a lot to think about. It was the second time after she’d spoken with Jennifer that she’d felt a bigger force at work.
Chapter 5
“Okay! Now keep the rhythm. One. Two. One. Two. One. Turn, shift!” Pamela yelled from across the rink. “That’s it! Good. Good. One. Two. Shift. Shift. Reach. Excellent!”
She clapped her hands to the beat of the music floating through the empty skating rink. The duo had been practicing their preliminary routine. Finally, they were making enough progress that Brenda noticed slight changes in Scott’s stance or the way he held her hands to indicate she needed to adjust her position or alter her course just slightly.
For several weeks, they’d been working hard, mastering the steps that were easier, and slowly integrating more complex moves a little bit at a time. Making their way around the far end of the rink, Brenda and Scott moved in unison like one elegant, exotic bird. They complemented each other perfectly.
Alive and proud as she moved along the ice, Brenda felt like herself. The words of the doctors telling her that her skating days were over pulsed in her head like a powerful mantra. She showed them. She proved them wrong.
Sure, she didn’t make as quick a comeback as she would have liked, but she was making a comeback nonetheless. Counting to the beats of the music, her feet moved in smooth steps, pushing her faster and then slower while her hands felt for any indication from Scott that she needed to pull away from the wall or lean a little more to the right or left. She took his other hand, readying herself for one of their spins, smiling up at him and feeling light as a feather.
Scott could also see a difference. He’d been a solo skater with his own bookcase of trophies and medals. He’d also skated with a partner and done pretty well. When he was a junior in high school, he was paired up with Joelle Buehler. She was a nice girl who wasn’t very chatty but could pick up routines with relative ease and wasn’t afraid of hard work. For three years, they skated together and, for three years, they just missed the bronze medal, coming in fourth. Scott could tell Joelle liked to skate, but it wasn’t in her veins. Not like Brenda. She didn’t eat and sleep skating. She didn’t practice routines over and over in her head. She didn’t know the strengths and weaknesses of the best skaters from all over the world, picking and choosing which ones she wanted to claim as her own.
It was this dedication that brought out the best in Scott. It radiated from Brenda and seemed to seep into his skin when they touched. Of course, he told himself it was the skating that was bringing them closer, but the fact was he’d been hoping for years for another chance to win her heart. There was so much he wanted to tell her. But this wasn’t the right time or the right place.
“Okay.” Pamela skated up to the pair as they panted a bit, catching their breath. “If we’re going to compete, you guys know what we have to do.”
“Add a little more pizzazz!” Brenda squealed, clapping her cold hands together.
“I was thinking a side by side shotgun spin after the step-sequence mirror portion. I think it will feel natural, like a natural transition as you pick up just a little speed, to try a throw lift.”
Brenda’s eyes popped as she thought of actually doing these moves. The shotgun spin was a good one that she’d always enjoyed, feeling the stretch of her l
eg as her body became a blur of motion. But the throw lift was something completely new.
“Brenda? Do you think you’re up to it?” Pamela asked. “Be honest. We’ve got time. Don’t just say yes because you feel you have to.”
“Oh, gosh! Of course, I’m ready!” Brenda gushed, placing her arm on Scott’s as if to reassure him of her confidence.
Pamela nodded her head and explained the move. It was deceptively simple sounding but required a good bit of concentration to pull off. Brenda was still having a little trouble judging distance, so, on the first try, when Scott pulled her into the shotgun spin, her timing was off, causing them to nearly collide. But, trying it again, the subtle hints in Scott’s body language allowed Brenda to find the rhythm, and she sank into it as if she were easing into a soft chair.
After settling into this new step of their routine, Pamela explained the throw lift.
“Just a toe loop, Brenda. Don’t try for the axel. Not yet. Just get the basic move down.” Pamela skated out of their way but stayed within shouting distance. “Now, take it slow, keep your signals open to each other, and let’s see what happens.”
Brenda nodded, took Scott’s hand, and they picked up in the middle of their routine. Around the rink they glided, counting their steps, stretching their arms in near perfect unison as they eased into the shotgun spin. Emerging from that, Pamela counted off the steps as she watched Scott.
There was a step, step, lunge, and into the air Brenda went—into a single axel. Scott nearly tripped as he watched Brenda complete one perfect rotation in the air before landing perfectly on the edge of her blade.
A scream of joy came from Brenda’s mouth, and she nearly had to stop the routine from the giggles of happiness that were bubbling over, almost into sobs.
Scott took her hand, leading her through a few more steps of their routine, his mouth agape from what he’d just seen until they came to a stop at the end of the rink where Pamela was waiting, her hand on her hip, shaking her head with a smirk on her lips.
“I knew as soon as I said for you not to overdo it, Brenda, that I’d said too much.”
“Did you see that? I did it. I did it!”
Scott stood there with a dumb smile on his face. “It was perfect,” he managed to mutter.
“Actually, it was a little to the left, but I can fix that. I know exactly what to do. Let’s do it again, and I promise it will be perfect,” Brenda said, breathing quickly with excitement.
“No,” Pamela said, shaking her head.
“No? Why?”
“Brenda, you did great today. And I could be knocked over with a feather after seeing you do that. But, I think we should call it a day. You guys have been at it for two hours. Now’s a good time to stop. On a high note.”
“Miss Pamela?” came the small voice of one of the little girls from the tiny-tot classes Pamela sometimes watched and taught. She was bundled up in a pink coat with matching scarf, and she pointed with a mittened hand. Her wavy black hair was separated into two, bouncy pigtails. “Miss Pamela. Uhm. That man says there’s a phone call for you.” She was pointing to Henry, the Zamboni driver. He waved the cordless phone, looking at Pamela.
“You guys get some rest, and I’ll see you both here the day after tomorrow. Same time.” She sat down, removed her skates, and then walked across the carpet, disappearing through a side door that led to her office.
Brenda and Scott nodded their heads, but before Scott could get to the skaters’ corral to begin taking off his skates, Brenda took him by the hand. “Just one more try,” she said, pulling him into the center of the ring.
“No way. You heard what Pam said, and I think she’s right. We don’t want to overdo it.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure, Scott? Look, I’ve been doing axels since before I could walk. I just want to do one more, and then we can call it a night. Or a day. Whatever.”
Brenda wasn’t sure if Scott knew that there was a chance she could black out. She assumed that Pam told him everything he needed to know about her condition. However, Brenda was starting to think that her condition was all in the minds of her doctors and not real points of concern. So far, the only thing that she’d noticed was that she leaned a little toward the left. Or sometimes the right. But it was hardly anything like the doctors made it out to be. Her skating career was anything but over.
“I promise, Scott, I won’t do any more. I just want to feel that feeling of being up in the air.” Her eyes twinkled and she looked beautiful, with her cheeks flushed and her lips bright red from the cold.
“Once. Just one more time. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired. So let’s make it quick before Pam comes back, and we both get busted.”
Clapping her hands again, Brenda took Scott’s hand. They skated into position. Hesitantly, Scott followed her. A veil of worry covered his face. They went into the routine and completed the preliminary steps for the maneuver. They came to step, step, lunge, and into the air Brenda went. Just as he let her go, she saw the room go black. She managed to get her feet down onto the ice, but they buckled underneath her. She collapsed and slid several feet.
“Brenda!” Scott shouted, skidding up to her side and nearly causing his own feet to betray him. He slipped his hand under her head. Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open.
Chapter 6
“Really, Brenda? You’re going to do this now?” Scott shook her gently.
“What happened?” Pamela came running onto the ice. “Oh no! What happened?”
“Pamela, I’m sorry. She wanted to do another. Just one more.”
“Scott, we’ve got to call an ambulance! Henry!” Pamela shouted to the old man who was never far from the ice. “Call 9-1-1! Right now!” Henry waved his hand in the air, turned, and hustled quickly down the hallway toward the offices and locker rooms. Within minutes, he was back.
“The paramedics are on the way!” he yelled, maneuvering himself along the ice like a seasoned professional to where Pamela was kneeling beside Scott, who was sitting on the ice with Brenda’s head elevated in his lap. She was murmuring, but her eyes just wouldn’t open.
“Brenda! Come on!” Scott said, his fear coming out as anger. A memory from his childhood rushed into focus. It was like he was thirteen years old again and at the vet’s office with his mother. The terrier dog they’d bought as a puppy and proudly named Bruce just three years earlier had started to have epileptic fits. The vet, a kind man by the name of Dr. Maurice Horsted, had given Scott’s mother pills that she wrapped in a piece of bologna or a little chunk of cheese for the dog to happily gobble up. For the most part, the medication worked. But sometimes, if the dog played too hard or got overheated, he’d stop in his tracks, fall over, and begin to shake uncontrollably. Froth would form on his lips, and his eyes would sometimes roll over white. The seizures only lasted a couple of seconds. Then he’d snap out of it. His first steps would be a little wobbly, but then he’d be his old self, licking faces and barking like normal.
After much trial and error, the family learned that Bruce just needed to live a calm life. He couldn’t be chased around the backyard when the fall leaves were in huge piles or play too much tug-of-war with his knotted socks, which he’d grasp in his teeth, shaking his head from side to side. Instead, he had to enjoy lying on the cool grass while Mom read a book, or he got a tummy rub while the kids watched television before bed.
These were okay pastimes for a dog, and Scott’s family made sure Bruce was loved and well cared for, but, deep inside, Scott always felt lying on the grass or getting tummy rubs weren’t what Bruce was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to be running until he collapsed in a happy, contented heap, sloppily lapping up water and giving thankful, wet kisses for the splendid feeling of exhaustion. He should have been barking at leaves floating on the breezes or squirrels treading too close to the back screen door, chasing them into the trees where they’d come from.
Bruce lived a long time. And, up until this moment, Scott thought he
and his family had provided the little hairy beast a good life. But the hard fact was that it wasn’t a dog’s life. It was a sick dog’s life.
And now Scott feared that Brenda was going to suffer the same fate. She could skate with the little kids, who were all so unsteady on their feet. Around and around the rink she could go as long as she kept the speed slow. No jumping. No twists or leaps or any of the things that made her look and feel beautiful. She wouldn’t be able to do those anymore. And what would her life be?
With tears in his eyes, Scott called her name again. Finally, just as the ambulance arrived and the EMTs came on the scene, Brenda opened her eyes. She looked up at him with that same confused look that Bruce would often have. For a moment, Scott knew she didn’t recognize him or know where she was. But, in just a few seconds, everything came back. And now Brenda was crying too.
“Where is she?” It seemed like Cindy Wagner had arrived at the hospital emergency room before Scott had even hung up the phone letting her know where Brenda was.
Light gray curtains separated the patients in the ER so the doctors and nurses could easily maneuver between stations. Intimidating emergency equipment was in plain view, attached to rolling tables or mounted on the walls. There was no time to be discrete when someone was bleeding or in pain or having some kind of fit. No one walked slowly in the ER either. If a visitor had a question, they just had to wait. The staff sometimes had no choice but to ignore a request for information when someone was in need of an injection or anesthetic.
There was no lonelier place on the planet. Scott knew this. Brenda lay in the hospital bed, her eyes red with tears and her cheeks red with embarrassment. The doctor on duty had come in to see her when she’d first been brought in, but since Scott had filled out the paperwork and made his way back to her, he hadn’t seen anyone or been told anything.
All Scott could do was hold her hand. Every time a man or woman in blue scrubs walked by, his eyes widened in hope, but no one came in to check on Brenda. Had they forgotten about her? How could they? Here was a beautiful woman lying in one of their beds, taking up space, breathing the air, and yet no one came. On top of that, he was suddenly confronted by Cindy Wagner’s terrified face.
Heart of a Champion Page 5