Girl in the Spotlight

by Virginia McCullough

  “Sounds wonderful,” Lark said with a sigh. “The most Lyle and I ever did was fly to London—a package deal.”

  Miles noted that her expression darkened, but only for a second or two before she burst out laughing.

  “Last winter, Dawn and I pooled our money and took our boys to Key West for their long Presidents’ Day weekend. Our package included a couple of snorkeling excursions. We were in the water so much, our skin shriveled up. Dawn and I still joke about our two boys trying to avoid our attempts to slather them with sunscreen. It was great fun to escape the winter for three days and give the kids an adventure.” Grinning, she added, “Now this is an adventure. Every minute of it.”

  He glanced at his watch and signaled for the check. “And it’s almost showtime for the pairs’ and dance finals,” he said. “I know you don’t want to miss those. We can head right to the arena.”

  The snow had lightened up a little so it took only a few minutes to get to the building and settle into their seats. The rest of the afternoon flew by. Miles could probably have skipped the event, but Lark sat riveted, transfixed by the combination of speed and grace and impossible-looking throws, not to mention lifts that made him hold his breath.

  As much as his mind wandered away from the performances, Miles was as stunned as everyone in the audience when one of the pairs’ lifts went awry and sent both skaters tumbling to the ice for a hard landing. But even with blood running down her shin from her knee and splotches of blood on her chin, the woman picked herself up and she and her partner completed their program—including two more lifts. They finished to a standing ovation and thunderous applause that acknowledged their grit.

  “It’s easy to forget those incredible lifts and throws are riskier than they look,” Miles said when they took their seats again.

  In a serious voice, Lark described a pair of ice dancers forced to take a whole season off because one of them suffered a concussion and the other broke an ankle.

  He grabbed her hand. “Don’t go worrying about Perrie Lynn. I can see the wheels turning in your head and hear the concern in your voice.”

  “I can’t help but fret a little. I think seeing actual blood was a bit of a wake-up call. I’ve been enchanted by the grace and romance of the sport, and tend to forget the dangers.”

  Was she still holding his hand for emotional support, or was she attracted to him the way he was to her? At some point, he’d have to find out, but not during that critical weekend when so much was on the line for their daughter. Their daughter. What a strange, but wonderful, sound.

  * * *

  LARK WRAPPED UP the leftover cheese and put it in the refrigerator in her room. “Ready to go? We can finish up the cheese and crackers when we get back—when we break open the champagne.”

  “Oh, no. No talk of champagne yet,” Miles said. “We don’t want to jinx her.”

  “We couldn’t do that, not with all the hope we’re bringing to that arena.” She took a deep breath and pulled her coat off the hanger in the closet. “Besides, no matter what happens, we’ll celebrate with champagne.”

  Miles tilted his head and grinned. He’s flirting again, she thought. And she enjoyed every minute of it.

  “You look nice,” he said. “Like you’ve got someplace special to go.”

  She glanced down at her long black skirt, flared at the bottom and perfect with her high boots. She’d cinched a woven belt around her blue sweater and added a necklace of silver beads. “Thanks. The occasion calls for festive clothes.” She waved a paisley shawl before wrapping it around her shoulder. “I’m prepared if it’s cold inside the arena.”

  As she buttoned her coat, she sighed. “It’s like I’m inside a dream, watching myself move around. I look normal on the outside, but really, I’m occupying another world.”

  “You do have a way of putting things,” Miles said softly as they left the room.

  Once again, Lark accepted Miles’s silent offer of his arm as they took off down the street in the dark of early evening. They said little, but their silence was companionable in a way that touched Lark. Instantly, she warded off a wave of sadness about these good times coming to an end when they returned home.

  Finding their seats, Lark was surprised she could relax into the atmosphere and observe others as they arrived and settled in around them. Based on the noise level it was clear many more spectators attended the skaters’ final programs when the stakes were higher. The ladies’ final was the biggest draw of all the events.

  As if echoing her thoughts, Miles said, “This feels like old hat now, as if we’re die-hard fans.”

  She nodded. “I’m so exhilarated, I find myself rooting for all the girls. Oh, I want Perrie Lynn to win a medal, but deep inside I want them all to have their best performances.”

  As if signaled by her words, the competition started with the first group of skaters taking their allotted warm-up minutes on the ice. Lark pressed her palms together and rested them against her chest. “At last.”

  As the music for the initial competitor started, Lark sat forward in her seat to watch the scene unfold. She winced with every fall, and cheered the steady landings and dancelike moves from one end of the rink to the other, but left the complex point system to the experts. In the end, a couple of the skaters moved up in the standings, and a couple of them brought the audience to their feet with personal best performances. Two skaters in a row took hard falls, one even sliding on her hip several feet across the ice before she managed to stand and carry on with her program.

  She and Miles spoke little until the third group of skaters took the ice and they spotted Perrie Lynn, this time sparkling in dark red. She put her hand over Miles’s arm. “Look at her. So beautiful.”

  “For us,” he whispered, letting his cheek touch her hair, “it’s obvious she’s a combination of you and me.” He swallowed hard. “But she’s also her own unique person.”

  “With passions and accomplishments we’re about to witness—again.”

  As the skaters created their magic on the ice, Lark could see that a couple of the top contenders were coming in at least slightly under expectation, including Leeza Smith, who bobbled more than one jump, not falling, but not producing the smooth transitions that had made her such an extraordinary performer. The audience responded to each completed jump with encouraging applause, but it was clear to Lark that Leeza would pose no threat to the defending champion.

  “I’ll bet Brooke is disappointed,” Miles said as Leeza, head lowered, left the ice to wait for her scores. The camera focused on Molly Walden, who was due to skate next. “Leeza was one of the first skaters that Mamie and Brooke followed. But Brooke also understands that even top contenders can have a bad night.”

  “Oh, boy, a life lesson at age eight,” Lark said. “But that leaves Brooke free to root for Perrie Lynn without feeling torn.”

  They looked on as Molly performed every jump and spin to perfection, easily shooting into first place, leaving the fourth-place Julia James to start her warm-up pace and glide to the center of the ice. Julia had worn blush pink for her short program and was equally stunning in deep aqua. Seconds later, the music started and the skater lived up to her reputation. Even a novice like Lark knew that Julia was even better than she’d been in her short program. One jump flowed into the next in perfect harmony with the music. Lark glanced at Miles, who had leaned forward, too, riveted by what was unfolding. The program ended with a series of spins and the crowd got to their feet even before the dramatic finish. The skater’s arm extended overhead, before she punched the air with a triumphant fist pump.

  The crowd stayed on its feet as Julia wiped away tears and bowed and waved. As she skated to the rim, she scooped up flowers and stuffed animals the fans had tossed onto the ice. With the camera on her and projecting to the large arena screens, spectators could watch as she embraced her co
ach and slipped on her blade guards before sitting on the kiss-’n’-cry bench to await her scores. Only when she waved to the crowd to acknowledge her second-place standing did the applause start to subside.

  “I can’t believe Perrie Lynn has to follow her,” Lark said as the moment passed.

  “From what I’ve heard from the commentators, some skaters feed off the energy of the crowd, but others are intimidated by it.” He paused. “Especially the young skaters.”

  “Wow. I can’t believe how nervous I’m getting.”

  “That’s why they call it a competition,” Miles said with a quick laugh. “But right now that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  “On the other hand, I’ve reminded myself hundreds of times that she was never expected to get this far.” Lowering her voice, Lark added, “She’s achieved a triumph already.”

  Miles grinned. “I needed that reminder.”

  When Perrie Lynn’s name filled the arena Lark tried to quiet her internal trembling, but she couldn’t manage it. “Just look at her greet the crowd with her arms high in the air.”

  “She knows she has to refocus the audience’s attention on her now,” Miles said, “so they’ll forget about Julia’s performance.”

  “That’s no trick for me,” Lark whispered.

  Perrie Lynn finished her circle around the ice, with a smile that said “Welcome to my performance.”

  A hush came over the crowd when Perrie Lynn took center ice. The seconds ticked by and the first notes of Scheherazade signaled the start of a pivot into footwork and a dramatic kick that launched the buildup to the first jump.

  Lark wrapped her fingers around Miles’s hand and leaned sideways so their shoulders touched when Perrie Lynn completed her first soaring triple jump. They emptied their lungs simultaneously and each took another sharp inhale as they watched the setup for another jump. Two triples followed to the sound of loud clapping.

  As wonderful as the jumps were, it was Perrie Lynn’s balletic extensions that filled Lark with awe. Her daughter was an artist with polish and poise. With a gentle lull in the music, Perrie Lynn went from one end of the ice to the other with her hands wrapped on one ankle, her other leg in a perfect six-o’clock extension. An arabesque followed that curved into a long glide that took her to center ice again. She extended her arms to the side as if embracing the crowd.

  Intricate dance steps led to the final extensions and spins that displayed her agility and ability to use all her body’s strength. Lark’s tears started in earnest when applause accompanied the final spin.

  Miles wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Unable to speak, Lark relaxed into the curve of his body and circled her arm around his waist. She was aware only of the comfort of Miles’s embrace and the magic of Perrie Lynn’s bows and waves. Smiling widely, the young skater filled her arms with flowers and teddy bears and left the ice. After a hug from Declan, the camera followed her to the kiss-’n’-cry bench, where she waved again.

  Miles reached into the pocket of his jacket and handed her a handkerchief. “I picked it up just for this occasion.”

  Laughing through tears, she said, “You really did think of everything.”

  He didn’t respond, but pointed to the screen where the camera caught Maxine’s radiant face and Eric’s elation. “No matter where she comes in, everyone in the arena knows she not only did her best, but she also gave the others a run for their money. She may not win, but I bet she medals.”

  “If I’m so touched, imagine how Maxine and Eric must feel,” Lark said, suddenly aware she and Miles had witnessed the culmination of years of sacrifice. “It’s really their moment as much as Perrie Lynn’s.”

  As if she’d ordered it, the screen again showed a close-up of Eric’s and Maxine’s faces. Ah, Lark thought, a deep red hat this time, with a band replete with sequins. Through the happy tears and joy on Maxine’s face, Lark also detected underlying fatigue and strain. As if on cue, Eric leaned in and whispered something in Maxine’s ear. She nodded and gave him what looked like a reassuring pat on his hand. Intuitively, Lark was certain Maxine had assured Eric she was okay.

  As anticipated, Perrie Lynn had repeated her pattern and accumulated enough points to bypass Julia and move into second place. And that’s where she stayed through four more skaters. In the end, Molly held on to her title and Leeza finished a disappointing fifth.

  “These medalists must be thrilled beyond words,” Lark said when they took their places on the podium.

  “Perrie Lynn’s silver is considered a true upset, you know.”

  Lark nodded, letting her mind jump ahead to February. “She’ll likely be headed to Norway for the Internationals.”

  “That’s right. The silver gets her on the team.”

  As if in a dream, Lark watched Perrie Lynn raise her arm and wave the bouquet of flowers to the appreciative crowd.

  “Just think,” Lark said, her legs weak, “we get to come back tomorrow for the men’s final and then for the exhibition program. She’ll skate one more time before we have to leave this fairy tale.”

  They sat down to wait for the arena to empty, but really, Lark needed the time to come back down to earth. Eventually, though, they went out to the street and headed in the direction of the hotel.

  “Let’s duck in here,” Miles said, pointing to an elegant-looking restaurant and bar. “I’ll bet we can get ourselves a glass or two of champagne. We can drink the room champagne tomorrow night.”

  “Another good idea,” she said. “And I’m hungry. Those cheese and crackers didn’t cut it.”

  Miles laughed. “I might have guessed.” After asking the host for a table in the back, he turned to Lark and said, “In an abundance of caution.”

  She nodded in understanding. It wouldn’t do to run into the Olsons, not on this important night. Still light-headed, almost dizzy, she slid into her side of the booth. “I can’t help but wonder what the Olsons are doing right now. I imagine there was a press room for interviews and photo ops, which would take time for Perrie Lynn and Declan. But after that, is it possible they’d just go back to their apartment and call it a night?”

  “I would imagine they’re too excited to sleep, like us.” Miles grabbed hold of the menu with an air of authority. “So, what would the bottomless pit like to order to go with the champagne?”

  She glanced at the appetizer list on the menu. This excursion was going to be her treat. Miles had insisted on paying for almost everything so far, but not this time. “How about an order of bruschetta and then a couple of other appetizers. And I leave it to you to pick the champagne.”

  They passed the next hour or so sipping champagne and going over every minute of the competition.

  “I think I’m coming back into my body.” Lark sat back in the booth and laughed. “I was walking on air before. That was always just a phrase, but it took food and champagne to get my feet on the ground again.”

  “The memories will never leave me.” Miles shook his head. “I’m afraid the image of Maxine will stick with me, too.”

  Lark closed her eyes and sighed. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you brought it up...well, I don’t know what to say. She didn’t look as well as she did just this morning. Maybe she’s worn-out.”

  “I suppose.” He squared his shoulders and lifted his glass. “Here’s to her health. And that’s a heartfelt toast, not just an expression.”

  Their glasses met midway in the space between them. “This is one thing we have no control over. Only time will tell.”

  In an attempt to lighten the mood, Lark picked up the table knife and made an elaborate show of cutting the last piece of bruschetta in half. “Fair is fair.” She slid one piece on Miles’s plate and the other on her own.

  Suddenly, Miles let out a loud guffaw.

  “What? What’s so fun
ny?”

  “I was thinking that this is a far cry from that off-campus dive we used to go to for burgers or nachos.”

  Lark scanned the dim restaurant with its dark wood and stained glass, white tablecloths and candles. With a sidelong glance, she said, “I feel so grown up.”

  Miles appreciated her obvious attempt at humor. “I wouldn’t have thought to put it that way, but you’re right. We’ve graduated from the campus dives and here we are sipping champagne.”

  “So we have,” she said, lifting her shoulders in contentment. What it all meant was another story.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  MILES INSISTED ON going to the airport with her to catch her flight home, allowing time to spare for breakfast before she went through security and said goodbye, not just to him, but to the nearly indescribable weekend. Lark wished they were going home together, as if closing a circle. Home meant routine, writing, interviews, the regularity of Evan’s practices, coffee with Dawn. And now, the added element of waiting for the Internationals.

  “I have a confession to make,” Lark said as they stood near the security lines.

  Miles raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Oh? Well, let’s hear it.”

  “I thought the trip might be awkward, you know, between us. Like we wouldn’t know how to relax with each other or we’d have to think up stuff to talk about. How wonderful to be dead wrong. I had so much fun.”

  “Me, too,” Miles said.

  “Such a nice morning at Quincy Market and even that walk in the nearly blinding snow was lovely,” she mused, reminiscing about their good time. “We were carefree tourists.”

  “It’s like we took home a silver medal.” Miles chuckled. “And now we’ll have a vicarious trip to the Internationals—on TV, anyway.”

  Lark lowered her gaze to stare at her boots. “The only shadow is Maxine’s illness.” Lark had heard more buzz about Maxine’s health in the crowd. The Boston Globe had even mentioned it in their coverage. It seemed that Maxine’s ovarian cancer was no longer a private matter, but had suddenly become a sidebar to the story about a breakthrough skater. Lark couldn’t imagine the Olsons liking that much.