by Amy Field
He did, of course, make an excellent impression on everyone who met him. He was charming and funny and genuine in a way that New Yorkers seldom encountered, except when people first moved from the Midwest. Katie wondered if she’d ever been like that when she first moved. But she couldn’t think about that now—she had work to do.
Her weeks in the Alps had kept her in shape but off of her game. Easily the best athlete of the crew, she kept coming in third place, which made her visibly angry. She’d change up technique, adjust her uniform, and swear like a sailor every time she got beat. The other girls, for their part, teased her pretty hard about her sluggishness. They were with her the night before, so she knew they were just razzing her, but in front of Jacob it hurt nonetheless.
Eventually Jacob walked over to the ice. He said something to Pete, who between rounds came over to Katie.
“Cat, your boy says that you have some sort of alarm on your phone that won’t go off.”
She rolled her eyes and thought about making a joke about the Swiss and technology, until Pete held the phone out to her. She swore again and excused herself, then ran into the locker room. Two minutes later she and Pete were out the door. Despite the length of his legs he was having a hard time keeping up.
“I don’t understand, Catherine, what’s the rush? Did this Abelardo friend of yours get hurt?”
“No, no, Sweetie,” she explained. “We just got reservations at a very, very trendy restaurant. I’d tried to get in for months before I left, and here I am, my second day back and it’s worked. But we have to be there in an hour and a half.”
“Alright, so is it nearby?”
“Well, I have to go home and change first.”
“Ya, okay, and I can change into my suit and..”
“Nope. Here.” She reached into her wallet and pulled out a credit card. “I’m going to have him drop me off at home. I’m going to shower and change. Meanwhile he’s going to run you up to Brooks Brothers and find you something decent to wear. They won’t let you in with the suit that you’ve got.”
There it was. She’d said it more bluntly than she’d meant to, but that was the truth of it.
Jacob tried to protest but she shushed him as the car pulled up to her apartment. She leaned over and kissed him as she exited the car.
“Don’t worry, Sweetie. It’ll be grand. I’ll see you in an hour.”
It took slightly longer than that, but Katie’s plan basically did work. A little over an hour later her driver reappeared, and allowed her, now dressed elegantly in an evening gown into the car where Jacob sat, perfectly fitted into a grey blazer and slacks with braces. He looked like a slightly craggy-faced model. They chatted pleasantly enough on the drive over, and actually arrived a little early for their reservation. They went to the bar and ordered drinks, which again were ridiculously overpriced, and Jacob took to people-watching.
They were surrounded by a Who’s Who of New York’s elite: movie stars and singers, athletes and politicians, even a few famous criminals dotted the crowd; all were dressed to the nines, and all were paying out the nose for food which, when it came, Jacob admitted was good, but worried couldn’t possibly be worth what they were paying.
Katie was sympathetic to Jacob’s concern. This was a fight she had with her parents every time they would come to visit. Her dad would always say, “Why would I pay fifty of a hundred bucks for a steak out I can cook better at home for myself for less than ten dollars?” Katie would counter that what they were paying for was the presentation, the ambience, and the experience, and her dad would reply that the experience of getting screwed out of his money wasn’t really worth the hundred dollars.
Jacob’s concern was similar, but differed slightly. He was very touched by the homeless that were everywhere in New York, and was especially bothered by paying so much money for food in a restaurant when there were people begging outside. He wasn’t eating much of his steak, which Katie was sure meant he would ask for a doggie bag, which she was equally sure would go to the first homeless person he saw.
Jacob’s mind, however, was on other thing. As they waited for dessert he sipped on his coffee and smiled. Then, leaning forward with that conspiratorial air that he had, like he was letting you in on a great secret, he asked. “So, at the rink today, did you have fun?”
You could’ve knocked Katie over with a feather. That was literally the last question she thought he would ask. She’d thought through answers concerning her teammates who were gay, the swearing, the money-spending, but she hadn’t prepared herself for this one. She was so shocked she answered more honestly than she meant to.
“No, I guess not.”
“I didn’t think so.” He leaned back, sipped his coffee again, then pierced her with those eyes again.
“So why do it?”
“Pardon?”
“Why work so hard at something if you don’t enjoy it anymore, if you don’t love it.”
“I do love it,” Katie protested. “I’ve given my whole life to it: blood sweat, and tears, and more than a decade of training an competition and…”
“But you aren’t excited talking about it anymore, are you? It no longer stirs a fire in your belly? Then, why bother?”
She sat on that one for a while. Eventually she answered. “The money, I guess.”
“The money.” It was the closest she had heard him to sounding bitter. “And what does the money get you?”
“What does the money get me?” She was incredulous. Who did he think was paying for all of this? His meals, his clothes, the car he’d ridden in? The money gave her everything. Maybe that’s what this was all about—jealously. She’d always make more money than him.
“The money gets me what I want. It provides a life I like living for myself, and better prospects than I ever would have had in Kansas.”
“Kansas,” he said firmly, smiling a little. “I like Kansas. Is like Switzerland, but more flat. But your parents, like my parents, simple people, hard-working people.”
“I work hard!” She could feel herself growing defensive.
“Yes, yes, yes you do.” She nodded his head and took her hand in his. “You are a very hard worker. But what is it you work so hard for. Is this,” he gestured all around the room. “Is this what you really want? Fancy dinners and men to drive you around town? Friends who use you and abuse you, but don’t seem to care much for you. A sport you no longer love. Is this what you want for your life?”
Katie was on the verge of tears. She knew the questions he was asking were true and good and honest, but she was afraid of her answers, how they might change her life, and what he might think of her if he actually knew. Lance was right. She wasn’t the person Jacob thought she was, and she never could be.
She wiped her mouth with her cloth napkin, and then her eyes delicately. Without looking up she hissed, “What would you have me do, Jacob?”
He sipped his coffee again. “Well, tell me, you were planning our wedding today, ya? Your manager, your publicist, they got their input, what did they say? What would you like for us to do?”
She knew he would not like any of it. “I don’t know all of the details yet,” she admitted, trying to soften the blow. “But they’d like to hold it at the start of the games in Pyeongchang. It’ll be an Olympic Wedding to remember. And then, presuming I win the gold….”
“But Katie,” he interrupted. “Neither of us live in South Korea. Your family is here in the States, and mine is in Switzerland. What kind of sense does it make to have our wedding away from our families.”
She anticipated this one. “I get that, I do. But my family will already be over for the competition, and we’re happy to pay to fly your folks and Dina out, and even pay for someone to watch the lodge while they’re away…”
“No, I get that,” Jacob answered. He did seem to understand this better than she gave him credit for. “And my family would want to support you as much as anyone else. But why turn out wedding into some kind of a market
ing event? Shouldn’t this be about us and our lives together?”
“Well, it would be. I mean, this is almost certainly my last Olympics, whether I win or not, and so getting married as I close one Chapter of my life.”
“But wouldn’t it make more sense to marry as you begin the new Chapter?” He said it with enthusiasm, not so much cutting down her idea as wanting to make a point with his. “I’m not saying we have to marry in Switzerland. My family is small, and they can easily travel to wherever. But you have friends and family here: in New York, in Chicago, in Kansas. Wouldn’t you want them to be part of your wedding? Wouldn’t you rather be surrounded by people who love you and care about you for the woman that you are, rather than the athlete that you’ve been?”
His voice had been growing louder as he spoke, and a few people were now beginning to stare.
“Jacob,” she said, notably lowering her voice. “I understand what you’re saying, and I don’t disagree. But this just seems like such an opportunity…”
“An opportunity for what?” He actually pounded his fist on the table now, clattering the glass and silver. “To impress people you don’t really care about? To outdo people who don’t really care about you? Can’t you see, Catherine, this is pointless. You find what you want and then you go for it. If you don’t want all of this, then why keep wasting your time? Why waste your life? Why waste our life?”
He’d crossed a line now and she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“How dare you?” She hissed, standing up and staring him down. “How dare you put this on me. ‘Find what you love and go for it’? That’s what you did, following me here. I don’t see you making much accommodation. It’s not like you’re trying to fit in with my friends or become part of my life here. You’ve known me for all of a month and you think you know me? You think you know my friends? You think you know what I love? This,” she gestured around. “This is my life. This is what I’ve built for myself and what I’ve known. If you don’t want this, then you don’t want me.”
But Jacob wasn’t backing down. He didn’t rise and didn’t match her shout. He didn’t acknowledge the stares or even the camera phones which started to go off. He simply spoke clearly and calmly. “I don’t believe that for one minute, and I don’t believe that you do either. You’re angry and you’re hurting and it makes sense, because money can get to people like that, but you know that I love you—deep down in your bones and your guts you know that—and you know that I want the best for you. Let’s refocus. Move back to Kansas. Train hard. And show the world just what Catherine Cory is made of.”
He smiled that honest grin of his, and looked with those piercing eyes. And it was more than she could take.
“I. Can’t Do. This. Right. Now.” She started sobbing, deep ugly sobs. No one in the restaurant was making any pretence to not be watching, and the headwaiter was making his way over to try and shoo them out. She gave him a glance which steeled him in his tracks. “I have too much in my life right now, Jacob, and if all you’re going to provide is more drama, this just clearly isn’t going to work out.” She fumbled with her billfold and pulled out a wad of cash, throwing it on the table. “Sorry for your trouble.”
Jacob closed his eyes and the tears began to fall. He put his heads in his hands and sat in silence for a full minute, as did the whole restaurant. Then he rose without drying his tears and walked around the table to Katie. He spoke very quietly. “I do not want your money, and I never have.” He looked down at the cash on the table, picked it up, folded it, and pressed it into Katie’s hand. “Money may not be the root of all evil, but the love of it will rot a man’s heart. Money will not answer the hunger in your heart, Catherine. And your friends who love you for your money will not be there for you when the money is gone, when your career is past, and when you are old and tired and injured. You need true friends for that time. What will become of you then?”
The words came out of her in great sobs now, like the very life of her was coming out through her mouth. “My. Name. Is. Katie.”
He looked at her through sad eyes, blinked away his tears, and then leaned in, whispered in her ear so no one else could hear. “I promised myself to you, Catherine, to you and no one else. I love you, and I will always love you, and nothing can take that away. You do not want me now, but I will be waiting, should you ever want me again.”
And with that, he was gone.
Katie drank that night. She drank a lot. She drank enough that she started really hating on herself, which only encouraged her to drink the more. This went on into the small hours of the morning. Unable to sleep, she started playing with her phone. She had a billion Facebook notifications waiting that she hadn’t done anything with for ages. As she opened the tab the very first thing she saw was a friend request from Lance. Without even thinking it, she hit accept.
For a few brief moments she wondered if she had just invited something horrible into her life. After all, he was kind of a crazy stalker type, but he’d obviously made it off of the mountain, and just as she’d gotten some perspective on coming back to civilization, maybe he had too.
Her imagination didn’t have long to work, because just a couple minutes later her phone beeped with the familiar notification. Not only had he accepted, but he had initiated a chat.
Lance: What’s up, Ice Queen? Warm up after coming home?
Katie: Guess you could say that.
Lance: Things didn’t turn out so hot with the Swedish Boy Scout?
Katie: He’s Swiss, but no, things kind of fell apart.
Lance: I know.
Okay, now she was starting to get creeped out again. Was he following her here in the States? Stalking her, even?
Katie: How did you know that?
Lance: It’s all over Twitter and Instagram. If you’re going to have a lover’s quarrel, you should probably do so in a less public place.
Katie quickly googled her own name. Dammit, he was right: photo, video, even transcription had started showing up on every major news and sports medial outlet. Her publicist would be having kittens.
Katie: This is so embarrassing.
Lance: Don’t sweat it, Sweet cheeks. Most people get it worse.
Katie: I just don’t know what to do.
Lance: Wanna talk about it?
Katie: Not really.
Lance: Wanna not talk about it?
Katie: Yup.
Lance: I’m in town.
Katie: What?
Lance: Yeppers. Interviewing experts for a case the next three days. Staying in midtown. Want to come see me?
She considered it.
Katie: No.
Lance: Really?
Katie: You come see me.
She sent him the address and immediately knew it was a mistake. Later she would wonder if it was the booze, but the truth of it was simply self-loathing. She hated herself for what she was doing to Jacob and she wanted to do something that seemed to fit her new sense of self. So Lance came over, and they didn’t talk about it. They didn’t talk about it over and over and over again. And when Lance did talk he said awful, nasty things to her, and she liked it, because it confirmed what she knew about herself. And he made her say awful nasty things to him, and it felt so right. And when he left the next morning and she felt hungover and degraded, she made a point of inviting him over again that night. With him, at least, she wouldn’t have to pretend to be something that she was not. She was free to be as awful as she felt.
It wasn’t long before the media caught sight of the two of them together in public. Lance was a good lawyer, and he never said or did anything in public that would tarnish his reputation as the perfect wealthy boyfriend to the successful Olympic speed skater. He’d visit her in New York and Chicago, and she competed a couple of times in L.A. He as always on her about her weight, and so she more or less stopped eating. And though her times got better, she was always tired and seemed to lack the spark that she had when she’d first returned from the Alps. H
er parents knew better than to ask what had happened, and in many ways, the relationship with Lance made more sense. If the Alps had never happened, he was likely what she would have wound up with anyway.
Chapter 6
A little more than a year had passed since the trip to the Alps. Katie and Lance had moved on, and while there was no talk of marriage in the future, they dutifully assumed their roles as a minor celebrity couple. Her life revolved around eating very little, training very much, and thinking about that magic moment when the gun would go off and the race of a lifetime would begin.
South Korea was a dream come true for Katie. This was her final chance to prove herself as an athlete; it was do or die time, and she meant to do. Her parents had come over two weeks early, when she and the rest of the team did, and Steve and his family came the day before the first round qualifiers. Pete was there and nervous as ever, and her publicist assured her that this would be the opportunity to win back the celebrity she had lost with that “unfortunate incident’ in New York’s finest restaurant. She was determined to see it through. Even Lance was supposed to come, though obviously at the last minute. He was a very important lawyer, after all.
She gazed at herself in the mirror in the locker room before heading out for the first race. She looked as good in her red, white, and blue uniform as she ever had, and she had reached the pinnacle of success in her chosen field. Why, then, did she feel so empty? Anyone in the world would have given anything to stand in her stakes in that moment—anyone except the one person in the world she most wanted in her life. She put thoughts of him out of her mind. He would not be a distraction today of all days.