Edge of the Past

by Jennifer Comeaux

  I shrank against the chair and dipped my head. I couldn’t allow myself to cry. I had to stay calm, but all the emotions of the day were spinning inside me, ready to explode.

  “Liza is fine,” Sergei said.

  “But someone could take her. She is alone in big city with bad people and–“

  “It was my fault!” Liza cried.

  We all looked toward the stairs. None of us had noticed that Liza had appeared.

  “Liza, go back to rest,” Elena commanded.

  “I’m the one who ran onto the train!” she exclaimed through her tears.

  “Please go downstairs,” Elena said with more force.

  Liza stared at us a moment and then ran down the stairs, slamming the bedroom door behind her. I covered my mouth to muffle a cry, but I couldn’t halt the tears from moistening my eyes.

  Sergei pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a loud breath. “Lena, can we please just move on from this? It’s done, and it’s not going to happen again.”

  “No, it not happen again because Liza not see Emily again,” Elena said. “Ever.”

  I lowered my hand but was unable to speak. Sergei glared at Elena with confusion. “We’re getting married. Liza’s going to have to see Emily.”

  “I do not trust her. I do not want her with my daughter.”

  “Our daughter,” Sergei corrected her.

  “I know what is best for her. I should not bring her here. We have good life in Russia, and we stay there, and you not see Liza because I do not want her with Emily.”

  I found my voice and asked weakly, “What are you…“

  “What are you saying?” Sergei finished for me. “That since I’ll be married to Emily, you’re going to keep Liza away from me?”

  Elena wouldn’t look at me. She replied with a simple and powerful, “Yes.”

  I bent over at the waist and put my head in my hands as I quivered with sobs. This was whirling so far out of control. What have I done? That stupid, stupid train!

  “You’re being completely unreasonable,” Sergei said in a hard tone. “As Liza’s father I have the right to see her. I’ll get a lawyer if I have to.”

  I raised my head to see Elena crossing her arms and shooting a dark look at Sergei. “You do not fight me. I have money and best lawyer. You do not win.”

  “You sound like your father.”

  Elena narrowed her eyes. “I protect my child.”

  She marched out of the room, and Sergei slowly dropped onto the couch. He sat pale and dazed with his hands in a steeple position.

  “She’ll back down once she cools off,” he said.

  I looked at the stairs. Elena had left, but her anger still hovered all around me like an ominous cloud. The storm had definitely not passed.

  “I don’t know about that,” I said in a rough whisper.

  “She’s not thinking right now,” Sergei insisted.

  I shook my head as another batch of tears choked me. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me…”

  “Listen to me.” Sergei jumped up and came over to kneel in front of me. He put both hands on my face. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and I’m not losing Liza. I’ll talk to her when we get to D.C. and she’s had time to realize she’s overreacting.”

  It sounded so easy, but I didn’t have half the faith Sergei had. Elena hadn’t wanted me around Liza before, and the incident in Boston just confirmed her opinion of me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at Sergei. This was really happening. He could lose Liza because of me. He could lose his daughter because of me.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I removed the World Championships credential badge from around my neck and looked at my photo. I wore a forced smile just like the one I’d been giving everyone since I’d arrived in Washington D.C.

  A large and enthusiastic crowd had gathered to watch the practices at the MCI Center. I stood at the entrance to the ice and scanned the arena, searching the many faces for Elena and Liza. Because they were staying at a different hotel, I hadn’t seen them since we’d parted ways at the airport the previous day. Liza hadn’t spoken to me during the trip from the Cape to D.C., and she wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. She probably hated me for being the reason she couldn’t stay in the U.S.

  Sergei walked out from the backstage tunnel and stood beside me at the boards. I handed him my badge, and he looped it around his neck for safe-keeping while Chris and I practiced.

  “Did you try calling Elena again?” I asked.

  “Goes straight to voicemail,” he muttered before taking a sip of his coffee.

  I rested my hands on the boards and bent my head. Isn’t this what you wanted? For Elena and Liza to leave so you could have Sergei all to yourself? I gripped the barrier, straining my fingers over the wood. No, I never wanted Sergei to be cut out of Liza’s life forever. Everything was so messed up.

  “I can’t wait to get on the ice,” Chris said as he flanked my other side.

  I kept my head down, trying to push away all thoughts of Elena and Liza. I had to get into my competitive zone. Even with Chris’s injury, we were still the favorites to win, and the chance to compete for a world championship on home soil didn’t come around often. We had a golden opportunity before us, and I couldn’t let my personal issues get in the way.

  “Do you remember how to skate?” I asked Chris as I stood tall and rolled my neck.

  “Ha. Very funny.”

  The announcer declared the start of our practice session, so Chris and I led the three other couples in our group onto the ice. I took off at full speed, working my blades over the ice and getting a feel for the rink, but my movements lacked their usual energy. My legs felt like fifty-pound weights, and my knees didn’t have the softness I needed. Not sleeping much the past two nights and picking at my meals likely hadn’t helped.

  Chris fell in step with me and took my hand, and we did crossovers in tandem, warming up for the difficult elements to come. As we turned the corner of the rink, two figures in the stands walking down the aisle caught my eye. Elena and Liza! Chris released my hand and skated ahead of me, and I twisted my neck to look behind me at the seats.

  “Em!”

  I turned in the direction of Chris’s voice just in time to see the German national champions barreling backward toward me. I gasped and ducked out of the way, dodging them at the last moment. They stared me down as they returned to their exercises, and Chris skated over and reached for my hand.

  “Something interesting in the stands?” he asked.

  “Huh? Oh, I saw Elena and Liza.”

  “Is Elena still avoiding Sergei?”

  “Yeah.” I glanced again at the spot where Elena and Liza had found seats. Liza was finally looking at me, and I wanted to wave but was afraid she wouldn’t return my gesture. I set my gaze straight ahead. “I shouldn’t be thinking about this right now.”

  Chris nodded and squeezed my hand. “Let’s work.”

  We’d practiced the triple twist and the lifts on the floor backstage, so we knew Chris had enough strength in his shoulder to handle those elements. Sergei had told us before the session not to push too hard in our on-ice work. We glided over to him for more detailed instruction, and he was staring into the crowd. He’d spotted Elena and Liza, too.

  He set his attention on us, but his eyes didn’t hold the clarity and focus they normally had when he addressed us. He made his instructions brief, and Chris and I left him to run through sections of our short program. It had to kill Sergei to see Liza and not be able to go to her. And I was the reason.

  The heaviness in my heart sapped even more of my energy, and as we practiced our jumping passes, I stumbled through most of them. I couldn’t get enough spring in my legs. Chris was having more success, and he’d been off the ice for weeks. My frustration level built, which only threw me off more.

  Sergei fed me technique reminders every time I circled back to him at the boards, but as soon as I skated away from him, he looked at th
e stands again. His distracted behavior was distracting me, and I almost had another collision, that time with Claire and Brandon, our American teammates.

  At the end of the forty-minute session, Sergei handed our credentials to Chris and me. “I’m going to try to catch Elena on the concourse. I saw her and Liza headed up there.”

  He hurried backstage, and Chris put his arm around me, guiding me toward the locker rooms. Away from the media, skater, and coach traffic, he cornered me against the wall and rested his hands on my shoulders.

  “You’re all over the place, Em.”

  “I’ll pull it together for the short tomorrow. I promise.”

  “Sergei’s the one who helps you focus, and his head’s not exactly in the game either.”

  “Well, I learned I don’t necessarily need his help to be successful, so…”

  Chris studied me, and I fidgeted under his unwavering stare. The situation felt very familiar, and I flashed back to Worlds two years prior when Chris had discovered I was secretly dating Sergei. He’d spent the whole event giving me weird looks like he was trying to figure me out. He was giving me one of those looks now.

  “I’m ready to compete,” I said, but I didn’t feel the fire inside. Where was the hunger, the desire to be the best? I had to find it before the competition. At the moment I was full of only sadness and guilt, and I had no clue how to get rid of those feelings.

  ****

  Sergei wasn’t able to catch up to Elena, and when the next evening came, he still hadn’t talked to her. There was something more pressing that required attention, however – the short program. I paced around Sergei backstage, alternately fiddling with my curly up-do and the short hem of my shiny black dress. I’d been shaky on my jumps again at practice that morning. My legs just wouldn’t cooperate, and my confidence had taken another hit.

  I flexed my knees and jiggled all my limbs, but I couldn’t shake the tightness. I’d been wound into one huge knot that I wasn’t able to loosen.

  “Em.” Sergei grasped both of my hands. “Remember – let your body take over, and it’ll stop your mind from getting in the way.”

  That was one of Sergei’s famous lines which all his students could recite. The problem was my body knew what to do but couldn’t execute it. I didn’t have the energy. Sergei looked tired, too. Still incredibly handsome in his gray suit, but tired. His bright eyes became dimmer every day he was away from Liza.

  The time to skate neared, so Chris and I inched toward the tunnel with Sergei at our side. Chris set his arm across my shoulders and said in my ear, “We’re gonna fight through this. Give it all you have.”

  I nodded and said a few prayers while we waited our turn to skate. Not prayers for victory but prayers for strength.

  When we received the call to the ice, the building erupted with cheers, and I tried to channel the crowd’s energy into my bones. The audience waved American flags of all sizes and banners with our names in red, white, and blue. Somewhere among the spectators sat Elena and Liza.

  Don’t think about them. Focus, focus, focus!

  The cheers diminished to complete silence as Chris and I locked into our starting pose. I zoned in on Chris’s face and said one last prayer.

  We began the program and knocked out the triple twist before I had a chance to think too much. But I had time to worry about the looming side-by-side triple Lutzes and whether my muscle memory would fail me.

  I picked hard into the ice, giving myself extra spring but throwing off my timing. Panic and adrenaline battled each other inside me as I came down with a backward lean. My body was tilted so much I couldn’t stay upright. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt like slow motion as I crashed to the ice.

  Now cold and wet, I scrambled to my feet and rushed back in step with Chris. He gave my hand a firm squeeze, his way of telling me to shake off the mistake.

  We moved through the elements and the choreography I loved so much, but I wasn’t enjoying it. I didn’t feel the connection to the music as I had every other time I’d performed the program. A mountain of suffocating negative emotions had buried my passion.

  Chris pressed me up into the star lift, and his injured arm trembled as his hand gripped my hip. I summoned all the strength I could find to hold myself up, using his shoulder as support. We couldn’t afford another error in the program. When we completed the element with a clean exit, Chris exhaled an audible breath and gave me a little nod.

  At the end of the performance, the crowd gave us a roaring ovation despite my mistake. Chris hugged me and said, “We got through it.”

  We met Sergei at the boards, and he embraced both of us before we all sat in the kiss and cry. Sergei slipped his hand around my waist and kissed the top of my head, and tears pricked my eyes. He could’ve directed his anger at Elena toward me since I was the cause of her decision, but he hadn’t. He was as loving as always.

  The scores appeared on the monitor, and the audience responded with muted applause. With more than ten teams left to skate, we were in third place. We had to hope none of those couples bumped us down in the standings. Sergei walked between Chris and me and gave us a reminder as we went backstage.

  “Top three means you still control your own destiny.”

  Chris and I knew all the particulars – as long as we won the free skate, we’d win gold. I just didn’t know if I had a golden performance in me. I needed to dig deeper than I ever had.

  After I changed out of my costume and finished my press obligations, I took the elevator up to the concourse to find my parents. Fans easily spotted me with my Team USA jacket and rolling bag, so I was stopped several times for autographs and photos. Everyone said such nice things, and I spent a minute chatting with each person. I’d given enough quotes to the media over the years to know how to sound poised even when I was torn apart inside.

  I continued toward the section where my parents had said to meet them but stopped short when I saw a familiar purple backpack in the concessions line.

  Should I try to talk to Elena? She wouldn’t make a scene in public, so maybe she’d listen to me. Or I might make things worse if I confronted her before Sergei did.

  While I stared at the backs of Elena’s and Liza’s heads, Liza turned and discovered me. She gazed at me a few moments and then quickly ducked her chin.

  She really does hate me.

  I bit the inside of my lip to stave off more tears. I definitely couldn’t talk to Elena now. Who knew the emotional blabber I’d start spewing. I had to let Sergei take care of it, and I had to have faith Elena would change her mind.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Sweetie, you’ve barely touched your dinner.” Mom eyed me with concern across the table. “You need to eat.”

  I nudged my grilled chicken with my fork. With the free skate in twenty-four hours, I should be fueling my body for the event, but my appetite had been missing since the train took off with Liza.

  “My stomach will feel a lot better if Sergei finally talks to Elena tonight and gets everything straightened out.”

  “I can’t believe she won’t answer his calls,” Mom said. “It’s ridiculous he has to camp out in her hotel lobby to track her down.”

  Dad sipped his wine and shook his head. “Elena has to realize she’s hurting Liza by doing this. The child’s already lost two parents and now she’s losing another.”

  I picked up my cell phone from the table and looked at the screen even though there had been no ring or message notice. Sergei had said he’d call as soon he had news.

  “Maybe I should speak to Elena. Mother to mother,” Mom said.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said. ”If she gets snippy with you, then you’re going to get snippy with her, and it’ll just blow up into a bigger mess.”

  “But I understand the feeling of wanting to protect your daughter. Not a day goes by that I don’t worry about you.”

  “I really think Sergei’s the only one who could get through to her.
” Admitting that fact made my meal look even less appealing. I set my fork down and pushed away my plate. “I’m gonna go up to my room and watch a movie or something. I need a distraction.”

  “Why don’t you take your dinner to go?” Dad suggested.

  I rubbed my stomach as I rose from the table. “I can’t eat, Dad.”

  He stood along with me and gave me a warm hug. “We just want you to keep your strength up.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said.

  Over Dad’s shoulder, Mom’s brow wrinkled deeper. I picked up my purse and went around the table to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

  “I hope you get good news from Sergei,” she said.

  I snaked through the busy hotel restaurant, waving at skater acquaintances from around the world. Normally, I lived for competitions like this – the sport’s biggest names all gathered in one spot, the large crowds, the pomp and circumstance. I’d get so fired up just from the atmosphere. But I hadn’t felt any of that excitement since being in D.C. Everything around me existed in a dulled haze.

  Inside my room, I flipped on the TV and scrolled through the movie listing. The U.S. Skating Federation gave its Olympic medalists the perk of single rooms at competitions, so I had the space all to myself. I selected the movie Center Stage, which I owned on DVD and had watched at least fifty times, but it was light and fun, and I was in the mood for something familiar.

  Even with the distraction of the movie, I peeked at my cell phone every ten minutes. It was getting late, and Elena and Liza should’ve returned to their hotel from the day’s events at the MCI Center. An extended conversation between Sergei and Elena could be a good sign… if that’s what was taking so long.

  A weak knock took my eyes off the phone. I got up from the bed and hustled to open the door. Sergei stood with his hand resting against the frame and his head down. The tiny bit of dinner I’d eaten turned in my stomach. I reached for Sergei’s free hand, and he lifted his head to look at me. The dim light remaining in his eyes had completely faded.