“I think, perhaps, the time has come,” Dad said. “I’d like to read them.”
Livvy sighed, relieved. His answer proved that Dad was coming out of his deepest grief. Finally he was emerging, slowly but surely, back into life.
“One more minute . . . and we’ll have the unveiling.” Rushing around the room, he cleared brushes off his art table. He gathered up small bottles of paint and clustered them together. Then he pushed his chair in and stepped back, surveying the room.
“It’s only us—Grandma and me,” said Livvy, smiling at Grandma.
“That’s right, son. We’re not here for a housekeeping inspection. We came for the surprise.”
Then Dad proceeded toward the draped easel. Carefully, he lifted the white sheet from the painting.
Livvy gasped in amazement. “Oh, it’s super beautiful, Daddy,” she whispered. She stared in awe at the face of her mother.
The painting, done in oils, was a portrayal of her youthful mother. Rendered with the aid of an engagement photo, the portrait was breathtakingly real.
Dad displayed the original picture, a newspaper clipping. “This was one of your mother’s favorite poses,” he explained. “Mine too.”
“It’s your best work ever,” Grandma said. Her voice sounded lumpy with tears.
Both Livvy and Grandma moved toward the painting, standing only a few feet from the easel. Livvy felt her father reach for her hand. Almost without thinking, she reached for Grandma’s, too.
“I painted it for you, Livvy,” her father was saying.
“It’s the most beautiful picture ever,” Livvy said softly.
Dad turned and cupped her chin in his free hand. “I pray it will help you remember who first believed in your skating talent.” He paused to kiss her forehead. “Never forget who got you started and who was always there for you at the rink. And all those competitions.”
Mom’s letters . . . and now this painting. How could she possibly forget? It was the coolest present a girl could ever wish for.
“Can we hang it in the living room?” she asked. “We can all enjoy it there . . . every day of our lives.”
“That’s entirely up to you,” Dad said.
“Thank you.” She clung to his hand.
They stood quietly in the haven of the studio, gazing in wonder. Livvy saw something of herself in her mother’s dear face. The realization made her feel confident, safe somehow.
“Anyone ready for supper?” Grandma asked, breaking the stillness.
“Yes, I’m hungry,” Dad said.
“How about you, Olivia Kay?” Grandma asked.
Olivia Kay. . .
The name stuck in her head. It had been a tender expression of love, coming from her mother’s pen. She thought of her mother’s cherished letters, Grandma’s promise and daily sacrifice. Everything that had happened this week.
Livvy glanced at her father’s mother. She turned and gazed at her own mother’s portrait. Sighing, she knew it was just fine—super, really—for Grandma Hudson to call her Olivia Kay. And as often as she liked. Livvy would never again wince when she said it. Never!
“It’s hard to believe so many good things can happen in one short week,” Livvy told her parrot before bedtime. “I mean, this thing with Grandma’s over . . . done . . . finished.”
“Grandma . . . Grandma,” Coco cawed back.
“I was so messed up about her. I even thought she had her eyes on Coach Sterling!” she confessed. “Jenna was right all along. I should’ve just relaxed about things.”
Coco twittered about the cage, ignoring her.
“I talked to Coach, too,” she confessed. “I never understood why he seemed unaware of Grandma at practice. Truth is, he thought she was essential to my success. And you know what? He was exactly right. Now . . . I don’t know what I’d do without her. Dad too.”
She went to the bookcase, picking up the figurine of the skater. “I was so dense, Coco,” she admitted. “So unbelievably stupid.”
But for a change, the bird was silent.
“You’re a big help,” she said sarcastically, replacing the statuette of the skater.
“Help . . . help!” cawed Coco.
“Call 9-1-1,” she teased.
He began making his siren sound, and she was immediately sorry she’d ever taught him such a trick. “Hush, now, you’ll have both Dad and Grandma in here.”
Thankfully, her parrot calmed down. She said, “Good night, birdie-boy,” and covered his cage. Usually that solved most noise problems.
Not tonight. Coco began to warble.
“Better keep it down,” she whispered, turning out the light.
“Down, down, down,” sang the bird.
“Not down . . . up.” She went and tapped on the birdcage. “Things are looking up, up, up. And I’m not kidding.”
Coco stopped yodeling, just like that!
Climbing into bed, Livvy wondered what part Coco might play in Jenna’s play. But then again, maybe birdie-boy best stay home. He was just too unpredictable. Besides, he was a boy. The play was being performed by only girls. Coco was definitely out of the running!
Giggling quietly, she thanked the Lord for her family, including a mom who had always cared and helped her dream big dreams. Never had she doubted that.
“Thanks, Lord, for a dad who’s smiling again,” she prayed. “And for a grandma whose mothering has made all the difference.”
Livvy nestled down under her warm comforter. But her spirits soared up . . . up, high as the best triple flip ever. With divine guidance, she would work hard to follow her dreams. Harder than ever!
Her family and her girl friends would support her from the sidelines. She could count on that. As for Mom . . . well, Livvy had a feeling she was cheering her on, too. From the grandstand of heaven.
Better Than Best
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Once again, I am grateful for the help given me by my young cousin, Alissa Jones of Hutchinson, Kansas, who answered my questions about the thrilling sport of gymnastics. Thanks, Alissa, for being so resourceful!
USA Gymnastics Online also assisted my research. Their official Web site is fascinating for readers eager to know more: www.usa-gymnastics.org.
For
Sarah Simmonds,
who gives her all to
gymnastics.
Better Than Best
Chapter One
Nothing comes between gymnastics and me, thought Jenna Song. Nothing!
Carefully, she taped up her hands for protection before beginning her early-morning training at Alpine Aerial Gymnastics. AAG for short. During the next forty minutes, she planned to warm up her muscles. Stretching exercises were always a great way to get started before any sport. Aerobics came next. Last of all, individual routines. Her all-time favorites were floor exercise and the balance beam.
Keeping her focus, Jenna thought through her compulsory elements. She wouldn’t allow herself to get off track and think too far ahead, even though the upcoming weekend—a three-day sports camp in Vail—was going to be very exciting. All week long, they had been working on individual skills, preparing for the camp.
“Hey, Jen!”
She looked up to see Cassie Peterson, a tall blond sixth grader, bounding across the gym. “Looking good, girl,” Jenna said.
“We’ve gotta nail everything today . . . and I mean everything,” Cassie said, grinning. She wound her long hair into a quick knot at the back of her head and stuck in a single hair clip.
“Duh!” Jenna gave her teammate a playful pat on the shoulder. “Like I don’t know that.”
“C’mon, I’m serious.”
“And I’m not?” Jenna laughed. She and Cassie were both a Level Eight in gymnastics, testing for a Level Nine in a few weeks. They were also on the same All-Around Team.
“Coupled in competition,” Coach Kim liked to say about the girls.
Cassie tilted her head, then shook out her arms, rotating her shoulders and neck. �
�Heard the rumor yet?”
“Which is?” Jenna studied Cassie’s face. Something was up.
Cassie leaned closer, whispering, “There’s this guy—an elite gymnast—who’s going to be a spotter for our All-Around Team. Lara Swenson said she heard it from Coach. And . . . he’s supposedly very cute.”
“So what?” Jenna couldn’t care less. She was team captain and starting to feel very annoyed with all this waste-of-time boy talk. “What I want to know is, are you set for the weekend sports camp?”
Cassie was in her face with more news. “Listen, Jen, this guy’s not just any male. Lara says he’s so gorgeous you’ll drop your teeth.”
Jenna leaned down and touched her toes. Then again, this time with her hands flat on the floor. “Bottom line: If he’s gonna be a spotter, he’d better know what he’s doing.”
“I’m sure he does, especially if Coach Kim’s paying him to do it.”
Jenna didn’t care to respond to Cassie’s comment. “By the way, cute is way overrated. And if I do drop my teeth, I’ll just have to gum my fruit leather. Won’t I?”
Cassie laughed softly. “Spoken like a true team captain. Way to go, girl.”
Jenna nodded, feeling better. Finally she’d gotten Cassie’s attention off the new boy’s physical appearance and on what really counted in their world of competition and mastery of athletic skills. “You said he’s a good gymnast, right?” she asked again.
“That’s the word around the gym.”
“Then he should know how to spot” was all she said.
“Later, Jen.” Cassie turned and waved, doing repetitious handsprings across the soft crash pads.
Looking around, Jenna expected to see Coach Kim and his Russian-born wife, Tasya, nearby. Sure enough, the famous twosome were working with Lara Swenson on the balance beam. True professionals, Coach and Tasya were assisting all of them along the path to the Olympics.
Not waiting another second, Jenna blew her whistle, the signal to her seven teammates. Major work had to be done before sports camp this Friday. “Let’s get cracking!” she called out, clapping her hands.
Once the girls were gathered on the mats, she began to call out their regular stretching routine. Fifteen long stretches total. She, Cassie, Lara, and the others were a cluster of blue, yellow, and pink warm-up suits. Tall water bottles were lined up, each marked with the individual team member’s name.
Soft crash pads were scattered in various sections of the gym. Gymnasts in different levels trained on the uneven parallel bars, the balance beam, and the vault. The large padded carpet in the center of the gym was used for the floor exercise.
Across the expansive gym, Coach Kim and Tasya were busy talking with a tall, slender guy. Their faces were animated, eyes bright as always.
She noticed the young man’s confident stance. How could she miss it? He had that totally self-assured look. His hair was the color of corn, and his eyes . . . Well, she wasn’t much for blue eyes, she decided on the spot.
Cassie was right. He was drop-dead gorgeous.
But so what? There were plenty of cute boys in their town of Alpine Lake, situated in the middle of the Colorado Rocky Mountains.
“Stretch and . . . hold,” Jenna called out the last three long extensions.
She and her teammates would train individually, and as hard as possible. And nothing, not even a cute guy, was going to mess up their concentration!
Better Than Best
Chapter Two
“Mom, I’m home!” Jenna dropped her gym bag near the door.
The three-story brick house was unusually quiet. By now, her adopted baby brother, Jonathan Bryan, would come crawling across the carpet toward her. He would probably be drooling, too, and babbling jumbled-up syllables.
“Anybody home?” she called, heading for the kitchen.
But the counters were washed clean. No dirty dishes in the sink. The place was spotless.
This is too weird, she thought. Mom’s always home.
Thinking her mother might be busy upstairs with Jonathan, Jenna scurried in the direction of the steps. “Mom, are you up there?” She asked this in Korean, her first language.
Mom didn’t respond. So Jenna hurried to the former guest room, which had been transformed into a nursery for tiny Jon. The room was small but light and airy, decorated in soft shades of yellow and green with white wicker accents. The sweetest nursery ever.
Sighing, she sat on the wicker rocker and leaned back. “Where could they be?” Jenna whispered, feeling drowsy.
Her day had been hectic, working out at the gym before and after school. These days, her schedule was exhausting. Up before dawn, early breakfast, rush to the gym, then to school, back to either ballet or the gym. Race like crazy all day long: She knew if she couldn’t handle the mental strain, the stress, her own emotions, all of that, she would never attain the success she longed for. At the moment, her goal was to become a member of the Junior National Team.
Getting up, she went to the crib and leaned on the ruffled crib bumpers. She smoothed the folded baby quilt at the bottom. Restless, she reached for the cow-jumped-over-the moon lamp on the bureau and went to sit again in the rocker. She stared at the lamp, very glad to have the support of both her parents. Coach Kim and Tasya were also two of her biggest fans.
And there was the very cool, very exciting Girls Only club. The other three members were also her closest friends—Livvy Hudson, Heather Bock, and Miranda Garcia. They liked to perform ballets and elaborate dramas for their parents. They also offered enthusiasm and encouragement to Jenna and to one another.
Jenna sometimes wondered how she’d ever managed before the club was created last fall. Livvy was an amazing novice-level figure skater, and Heather was a dazzling, award-winning ice dancer with her brother, Kevin. Manda, their newest member, was a stunning and daring downhill skier. Four girls following a strenuous, yet thrilling, track to the Olympics. They shared athletic dreams and goals, forming a tight-knit friendship.
Jenna’s All-Around teammates were cool, too. They worked well individually and as a team. But she was worried about something—someone.
Lara Swenson, the youngest of the seven members, had just turned eleven. In the past six weeks, she had grown really fast. Maybe too fast. Right in front of everyone’s eyes, she was sprouting up like she might never stop! At the moment, she was just a hair taller than Cassie Peterson, who had been the tallest on the team.
Jenna could hardly believe it. Did Lara have an out-of-control pituitary gland or what? Petite Lara was no longer tiny. If she kept up her growth rate, she might end up six feet tall. Jenna worried that Lara wouldn’t be able to maintain her exceptional skills as a gymnast. Which would hurt all the others on the team.
This week she’d noticed Lara’s inability to “stick” her landings perfectly. For the first time, her performances had been less than precise. Lara was struggling for sure.
Jenna really wanted to help. But she had no idea what to do.
* * *
The phone rang, and Jenna raced down the hall to her parents’ bedroom. “Song residence, Jenna speaking,” she answered.
“How’s life?”
It was Olivia Hudson, Jenna’s best friend. “Livvy, hi! Things are going okay . . . I guess you could say.”
“Well, by the sound of your voice, I’m not convinced. What’s up?”
She cringed. Should she unload on Livvy?
“What is it, Jen? Something wrong?”
Putting the phone to her other ear, Jenna said, “I’m worried about my All-Around Team.”
“Why, what’s up?”
“It’s just that, well . . . I think some of us might need some special attention,” she said.
“Meaning what?”
Hesitating, Jen wondered what to say. “Well, I think you know how it is. One of us is having an annoying expansion.”
“Speak English,” Livvy laughed.
“Meaning one of us has an overactive growth gland
.”
“Well, you don’t,” Livvy said quickly. “Not yet, anyway.”
Her friend’s answer took her off guard. “You’re right, I’m not growing.”
“Then who?”
“You remember Lara Swenson?”
Livvy chuckled. “Right. The baby gymnast at AAG.”
“Well, try this on for size: Lara’s now the tallest team member. And it just happened.”
“You sound . . . sorta jealous,” Livvy said. “What’s with that?”
Jen bit her lip. “I guess I’m afraid I won’t grow anymore at all. Maybe I’ll stay this small—this short—for the rest of my life.”
“Being petite is a good thing for gymnasts, isn’t it?” Liv asked.
“So everyone says.”
“Then it must be true.”
Leave it to Livvy to turn things around, to try to encourage her. Livvy had always been good in the cheering-up department. She’d been Jen’s good friend for a long time. They’d started out as pen pals—the snail-mail kind. Then they’d both moved to Alpine Lake with their families before school started last August. Just in time for sixth grade at Alpine Lake Middle School.
“You know what?” Jenna changed the subject. “We’ve got a new guy helping with the team.”
“A guy? You must be kidding.” Livvy sounded shocked. “Who is it?”
Jenna had to smile. “His name is Nels Ansgar.”
“Sounds Norwegian.”
“Might be,” replied Jenna.
Livvy was silent for a moment, then continued. “So . . . what’s Nels got to do with Lara’s growth spurt?”
Jenna sighed. “I guess I’m not making much sense. Nothing really. It’s just that Lara’s shooting up. Way up. And I’m trapped in pre-puberty.”
Livvy was laughing. “Don’t go morbid on me.”
“I’m not . . . okay.” Jenna felt angry and didn’t know why.
Girls Only! Page 7