Breaking Skin

by Debra Doxer

  I swallow hard and shake off my thoughts. I won’t get through this class if I can’t stop thinking about Cole.

  My phone rings in my bag as I walk into the dressing room. When I see Deedee’s name on the caller ID, I rush to answer. I’ve been trying to reach her since yesterday.

  “You have to get your ass back here, Nikki.”

  I sigh and sit down on the bench. “I know. I’m trying.”

  “You don’t understand. Dennis is gone. He got axed yesterday.”

  “What?”

  “They hired Nadia to be our new choreographer.”

  “Nadia Chernov?” She was Dennis’s co-choreographer two seasons ago until he had her fired. It was the board’s idea to hire her and he took it as a personal insult, but the dancers loved her. Dennis hated that too. “Why did they fire him?”

  “Are you serious? Why didn’t they fire him a long time ago? I heard a new benefactor wanted to shake things up and Dennis was too old school. Nadia asked about you. She wants to talk to you.”

  “Nadia wants to talk to me?” My first thought is that she wants to terminate my contract. But then I decide to think positively. Nadia isn’t Dennis. She’s the antithesis of him. “Should I call her?”

  She hesitates. “I’d come up here if I were you. Can you get away for a few hours?”

  I chew my lip and work out how long it would take to meet with Nadia and drive back and forth to San Francisco. It would be tight if I tried to do it while Langley was in school.

  “I’d need to find a sitter.”

  “Then do it,” she says, her tone urgent. “You need to be here.”

  My eyes squeeze closed as worry twists me into knots. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Bring your niece with you if you have to.”

  “I said I’ll see.” Everything is so up in the air, I don’t know what I’ll even say to Nadia. I have no idea when I can come back. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be short with you.”

  “I get it. I just miss you, Nikki. You’re the first friend I made here. You work harder than anyone I know. You can’t lose your spot.”

  “Thanks, Deedee. I miss you too. I’ll get there. I’ll figure it out.”

  I stay on the bench in the dressing room as my mind spins at the news that Dennis is out and Nadia is in. She was like a mentor to me for the short time she was with the company. She always encouraged dancers to bring out the emotion of the dance while Dennis stifled it and rammed technique down our throats until we forgot the story behind the ballet we were performing. His approach made the whole thing so stiff and lifeless. Having Nadia as our choreographer excites me. It makes me want to get back to the company again.

  As people begin to filter into the dressing room, I finish changing and walk down the hall to the studio. The teacher for the class before mine is still there, talking on her phone.

  I want to introduce myself and ask her how well she knew Renee. Maybe Renee mentioned something that could be helpful if they spoke between classes.

  I don’t hold out much hope, though. From what I can tell, since she moved back here, Renee hardly made any new personal connections at all, and she didn’t keep in touch with anyone from high school. She moved through this town like a ghost or a shadow, and it breaks my heart to think of her being so isolated from everything and everyone.

  When it’s time for my class to start, the other teacher is still on her phone. She sees me waiting and mouths sorry before she walks out of the room, continuing with her conversation.

  I debate following her as she disappears out the door. But I stay put when I look at the students gathering in front of me, women of all ages and sizes, eager to begin.

  Langley looks out the window from the backseat as I pull out of the school parking lot. While she sits quietly, I wonder how I’m going to tell her that I hired a babysitter to pick her up after school tomorrow because I have to go to San Francisco for the day.

  I found Lisa’s number in a drawer last week when I was going through Renee’s things. The word sitter was written beside her name. When I called this afternoon, she told me she was available to help out. But what will Langley think? Will she be afraid that I won’t come back?

  I look at her face in the rearview mirror and second-guess my plan. Maybe I could take Langley with me to San Francisco. She might think of it as an adventure. It’s probably okay for her to miss one day of school. Deedee could stay with her for a bit if I manage to get some time with Nadia.

  The more I think about it, the more I settle on the idea. A distraction and a change of scene may be good for Langley.

  “Do you have any homework?” I ask as I pull into the driveway.

  When she doesn’t answer, I turn to see her exhale against the window and then trace her finger through the condensation that forms the way she often does, the way I did as a kid too.

  “Do you have homework, Langley?” I ask again.

  “Just some practice math problems for a test tomorrow.” She opens the door and jumps out, dragging her heavy backpack behind her.

  “You have a test tomorrow?” I ask as she follows me up the walkway. I can’t pull her out of school for the day if she has a test.

  “Yup. I hate math,” she mutters as I unlock the front door. Then she taps me on the arm and focuses on something behind me. “There’s that weird guy with the jacket again.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “What weird guy?”

  “The one who stands in the woods across the street sometimes.”

  Turning, I look toward the woods at the end of the cul-de-sac. “I don’t see anyone.”

  “He walked back in again when I spotted him.”

  “What’s weird about him?” I ask, wondering if I should be concerned.

  “The fact that he just stands there and stares.”

  My eyes narrow on Langley. “How often do you see him there?

  She shrugs.

  “Have you told your mother?”

  “She knows. She’s seen him too.”

  My gaze swings between the empty woods and Langley. “Why do you call him the guy with the jacket? Lots of people wear jackets.”

  Langley walks inside and dumps her bag in the entryway. “Mom’s the one who calls him that. I guess there’s something weird about his jacket.”

  “Why? What does it look like?”

  “It’s green and old looking. It has a lot of pockets and some patches on the sleeves.”

  The image that comes to mind as she describes it makes me uneasy. “Is it an army jacket?”

  “What’s an army jacket?” She kicks off her sneakers and leaves them in the middle of the floor.

  “Never mind.” I tell her what we’re having for dinner and she disappears upstairs.

  Once she’s gone, I step outside and look over at the woods. It’s mostly thick pine trees. I don’t see anyone standing there now.

  As I walk back in, I picture an army jacket I know well. My father wore one. He found it lying by a dumpster on his mail route. He brought it home and Mom washed it for him, and he wore it all the time after that. Whenever I picture him, he has that jacket on.

  If the man from the woods had a similar jacket, I can see why Renee would mention it. I feel a chill as I lock the door behind me. My mother said my father was back when I went to see her. Is it possible Renee mentioned the man in the jacket to her? Did she twist that information into something ghoulish?

  I startle when Langley jumps down the bottom two steps.

  “I can’t do my math problems. Can you help me after dinner?” When I don’t reply, she asks, “Are you okay, Aunt Nikki?”

  I blink and nod. “Sure, but math wasn’t my best subject.”

  “That’s what Mom always says,” she mumbles before leaving the room.

  Feeling foolish, I shake off my thoughts and wonder how bad I’ll look when I can’t do third-grade math.

  I don’t go to San Francisco the next day the way I’d hoped, and the anxiety of missing anoth
er day of rehearsal and not talking to Nadia makes me restless.

  Renee doesn’t teach class on Wednesdays, so there’s nothing at the studio for me to do. After I take Langley to school and walk Siegfried, I decide to check in with Cole to see if his agent found anything out, but I’m sure he’d tell me if he had. I didn’t see or hear from him yesterday and after what happened between us on Monday, I’m worried he’s avoiding me or having regrets. Maybe after the things he said, he’s waiting to see what I’ll do.

  I still don’t know what I’m going to do. I only know that I missed not seeing Cole yesterday. I missed it a lot.

  When I walk around to the front of his house, it looks like Cole has company. Another SUV is parked next to his, and I wonder if I should interrupt or come back later. If someone’s here, I can just ask him if there’s any news and go. There’ll be no risk of awkwardness and no opportunity for him to say what we did in Renee’s kitchen was a mistake.

  As I go to ring the bell, I hear raised voices from inside, Cole’s voice and then the slightly softer one of a woman. I can’t make out the words, but it sounds heated. I’m about to turn and leave when the door opens abruptly and a very pregnant woman nearly barrels into me.

  “Nikki,” she says, surprised. It’s Cole’s sister, Lily.

  A moment later, Cole appears behind her and the angry wrinkles in his face smooth out.

  “I came to see Cole,” I say dumbly. Why else would I be standing in front of his door?

  “Maybe you can talk some sense into him,” she says.

  “Lily,” he says in a warning tone.

  “Does she know? Did you tell her?”

  I look between them with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

  “Yes. I told her.”

  Lily’s eyebrows lift in surprise. She gazes at me with renewed interest. “Did you also tell her what Celeste is up to?”

  “Yes.” His response is clipped. “Don’t you have somewhere you have to be?”

  She scowls at him before turning back to me. “Any word from your sister?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.” She tilts her head to study me with blue eyes just a shade darker than Cole’s. “Nice seeing you again, Nikki.”

  Lily walks past me but turns back for one last parting shot at Cole. “Don’t be an idiot or I’ll tell Mom and Dad.”

  Cole rubs his hands over his face as we both watch Lily drive away.

  “Did your sister just threaten to tell on you?”

  A smile plays on his lips. “She’s always been a brat.” His gaze wanders over me, making me self-conscious.

  “I came to see if your agent found anything out.” I turn and look back toward Renee’s house. “But I can go if—”

  “Don’t go.” With a heavy sigh, he takes a step back toward the door and says, “Come inside.”

  I walk into his large foyer and can’t help but give him a speculative glance. “Is everything okay?”

  His shoulders sink a little. “You’re probably wondering what that was about.”

  I shake my head. “It’s none of my business.”

  He stills, and his focus seems to concentrate more fully on me. It almost looks like my comment irritated him. But the hard look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came.

  “Lily likes to come with me to my doctor appointments. I told her I’m not going this month.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a bunch of cognitive tests to see if I’m improving or getting worse. If it shows I’m worse, my ex-wife will use it against me in our custody dispute.”

  “Do you think you’re worse?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean the tests will agree,” he says, his frustration rolling off him in waves.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  His arms go down by his sides. “You can ask me anything, Nikki.”

  Despite his openness, I still feel like I’m intruding. Maybe it’s because I don’t like people asking me questions, especially about my family.

  “Did you get divorced before or after you started having problems with your memory?”

  “Celeste left me after my diagnosis.”

  I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I had a feeling he was going to say that. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”

  “A part of me can’t blame her, especially if I get worse.” He gives me a tentative look and pushes his hand through his hair. “I didn’t explain everything about my condition, Nikki. Do you know what CTE is?”

  When I shake my head, he goes on to tell me things I’ve only caught bits and pieces of in the news. Things that didn’t apply to anyone I knew until now. My heart goes out to him as he talks about the injuries he suffered when he played and what the consequences could be down the line. As he relates it all, I can hear the fear in his voice. Somehow it makes him more human, and a rush of compassion grips me.

  “Marriage is supposed to be in sickness and in health. First she leaves you, and now she’s trying to take your son away? It’s unconscionable,” I say, unable to hold back my opinion.

  His lips press together. I can see the anger burning in his eyes.

  “Is there anything they can do if you have CTE?”

  “No. The damage is already done.” He scratches the back of his head and angles a speculative look at me. It feels like he has more to say, but isn’t sure if he should.

  I watch him quietly, wondering what more there could be when he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. He opens it up, takes something out, and hands it to me.

  Curious, I take a look. It’s a business card for someone named Karl Simmons, PhD, at the University of California San Francisco.

  “He came to one of Derek’s practices last year to talk to me. He wants me to go public with my story to spread awareness to kids and their parents. He’s got a team of scientists at UCSF doing research on CTE.”

  I hear the wariness in his voice. “You don’t want to do it?”

  “I can’t. Not now.”

  “You’re afraid of what your ex-wife will do.”

  He nods.

  I can’t imagine this woman wanting to hurt Cole so badly. “I’m sorry, but she sounds awful.”

  Cole looks at me and grins. “She wasn’t always that way. When we met, she thought she was getting a hotshot hockey player. She never figured she’d end up with a disabled wash-up.”

  Outrage flares inside me. “Did she actually say that?”

  “Things could get a lot worse. There’s no way to know at this point, and I would never ask someone to take that on. I won’t be a burden to anyone.”

  He gives me a piercing look. It feels like a warning or an edict, and if it’s meant to scare me off, it doesn’t. It does just the opposite. His pain draws me in. Now I understand him so much better.

  “Cole.” I say his name softly and reach for his hand. “No matter what your future holds, you still deserve to be happy.”

  His fingers circle mine and I look up into his eyes. I want to kiss him more than anything. I want to be the one to make him feel good this time, to ease away his pain, and I’m sure he can read my intentions.

  He stands there stiffly for an excruciating moment before he releases my hand, silently refusing what I’m offering.

  Stubborn man.

  He swallows. “So now you know my situation. What are you thinking?”

  I smile. “How much you’ve been through and how brave you are.”

  My reply seems to surprise him. “That’s because you’re young and idealistic.”

  So he thinks I’m too young for him. I’ve gotten that feeling from him before.

  “I may be young but I’m not naive. Sometimes I think I’ve seen too much in my twenty-three years.”

  His gaze holds mine. “Maybe you’ll tell me about it sometime.”

  He just shared so much with me. I’m flattered by how open and honest he was but I can’t do the same. He’s probably
used to talking about his life and his family, instead of silently shoving skeletons in a closet that’s already far too crowded. But he grew up very differently from how I did, with a family that loves him and each other. I bet that love is unconditional. If Cole falls, they’ll catch him, and he knows that. Life is different when you have people you can count on.

  “I’m not like you, Cole. I can’t talk about myself so easily.”

  His eyes narrow. “You think it was easy for me to share any of that with you? I don’t talk about this with anyone but my family, and only because I need their help sometimes. My ex is one of the few people who know because she saw it firsthand, and look how that turned out? I don’t trust easily and I don’t confide in many people, Nikki, but for some reason I find myself telling you things. Maybe I want you to know what you’re getting into, or maybe I just like talking to you. And in case you’re wondering, I never told any of this to your sister.”

  It never occurred to me he would. There’s some part of me that knows our connection is different, singular. But I don’t know what that means.

  He’s right, though. I was wrong to assume talking for him was easy.

  “I’m sorry, Cole. I didn’t realize. Thank you for talking to me and for trusting me.”

  Something works behind his eyes. “I regretted sleeping with Renee even before I found out you’re her sister. But now I regret it even more because it’s a barrier between us. Renee and I were two lonely people who used each other for a little while. I’m not proud of it, but that’s all it was, and Renee saw it the same way. But I understand if you can’t get past it. Between that and my other issues, you should probably walk away. It’s your smartest move, and I won’t hold it against you.”

  I swallow hard and unconsciously lick my lips. He just addressed the elephant in the room, the barrier between us, and he made it seem less insurmountable. If there was really nothing between them, should I let his nonexistent relationship with Renee be the only thing standing between us? When I think of it that way, it seems foolish.

  “Then I must not be too smart,” I say, “because I’m still here.”

  Cole studies me but can’t stop his lips from curving.