Life on the Edge

by Jennifer Comeaux

  “I’d rather do my own thing. But you have fun,” I said with zero enthusiasm.

  The already dim light in his eyes faded even more. “Maybe we can get together after dinner then. I can come to your room–”

  One of our colleagues, an older man from Detroit, called down the corridor, “Seven o’clock for dinner?”

  I jumped on the elevator while Sergei answered him. The doors closed, leaving Sergei’s disappointment behind.

  ****

  “Come on, computer, connect.” I slapped the base of my laptop and cursed the hotel’s uncooperative network.

  After two more unsuccessful attempts, I decided to try one of the computers available for guests downstairs. The sofas and chairs in the lobby were largely unoccupied, but the open-air bar to the right of the sitting area was hopping with after-dinner patrons. I recognized a number of coaches from the seminar, so I did a quick scan for one person in particular. It only took a few seconds for me to spot Sergei at one of the tall tables. He shared it with three other people, one of whom was Leah.

  Sergei’s back was to the lobby, so he couldn’t see me. I chose the computer far in the corner where I’d have a view of all the action but wouldn’t be noticed.

  While I scrolled through my emails, I kept one eye on the bar. Leah’s hand found its way to Sergei’s arm more times than I could count, and her touchy-feeliness didn’t extend to the other two guys at the table. If I wasn’t under twenty-one, in a secret relationship, and currently not speaking to my boyfriend, I’d march into the bar and tell her to keep her claws to herself.

  When Leah got up to leave, she whispered in Sergei’s ear and started to walk away, but he stopped her and whispered something in return. She smiled, said a few words, and left, not seeing me in the corner. I tried to analyze her smile, but she had been too far away for me to get a good read. Was it a seductive smile? A friendly one? While I mulled it over, Sergei stood and said his own goodbyes. No more than a minute had passed since Leah had departed. A chill of uneasiness caused me to shiver.

  I logged off the machine and scrambled behind a large plant so Sergei wouldn’t see me. After he stepped into the elevator, I watched the numbers rise above the silver doors. I waited for them to stop on twelve, his floor, but they kept climbing. With each number, my heart sank further into a pit of fear.

  The elevator finally stopped on eighteen, my floor but also Leah’s. I’d seen her leaving her room when I’d gone to get ice before dinner.

  The pit of fear swallowed me whole.

  My clammy hand punched the Up button. The ride seemed to last an hour. I slowly turned down the hallway to my room, hoping to see Sergei at my door.

  The corridor was empty.

  I clutched my stomach as I passed Leah’s room. Thoughts of what might be happening in there twisted my insides into knots of pain. I briefly considered knocking on the door but had no idea what I would say or do if I saw Sergei inside.

  In my room, I crawled into bed fully clothed and pulled the blanket up to my chin. I felt feverish. My entire body shook, fighting off sobs of disgust, anger, and regret. You pushed him away.

  ****

  The sun came up in the morning, but I couldn’t see it through the dark cloud surrounding me. I packed my suitcase in an exhausted daze and examined myself in the mirror. Red streaks covered my face, and matching lines filled my bloodshot eyes. I slapped powder on my cheeks and squirted eye drops over my pupils. I needed to be presentable for the trip home.

  I didn’t see Sergei in the lobby, so I hailed a taxi and called him as the driver sped toward the airport.

  “Hey, I’m downstairs. Do you still need to checkout?” He sounded so casual, as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

  “I was up early, so I’m on my way to the airport.”

  “You didn’t wait for me?” His casualness changed to frustrated hurt.

  I rolled down the window and inhaled a deep breath of fresh air. The mustiness of the cab mixed with the driver’s rapid acceleration was making me woozy.

  “I was ready to go. I’ll see you at the gate.” I hung up without waiting for a response.

  Once I passed through security, I strolled up and down the terminal, rolling my carry-on bag behind me. I stopped in a café for an extra-large cup of coffee, read magazines in the gift shop, and perused the newest novels on display. Anything to delay seeing Sergei.

  When I finally arrived at the gate, there was no room to sit or stand. A crowd of anxious faces stared at the television on the far wall, so I crept closer to see what was drawing so much attention. Sergei leapt to his feet and navigated around piles of luggage and families camped on the floor.

  “There you are. Did you hear what happened?” His wide eyes and rushed question unsettled me.

  “No, I’ve been walking around.” I looked back at the TV and saw a news reporter with a grim expression.

  “A plane hit the World Trade Center.”

  I thought immediately of an inexperienced pilot losing control of his single-engine plane. “A small one?”

  “No, a jet,” Sergei said gravely.

  “How can that happen?” I moved toward the TV and mimicked the position of everyone around me–neck arched upward, mouth agape, eyes glued to the raw images on the screen.

  As reports of a second crash surfaced, the shock and horror in the crowd intensified. Muffled cries, nervous chatter, and the persistent buzzing of cell phones dominated the area. Sergei and I didn’t speak as we stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the smoking towers on the television. When the first plane was identified as a flight out of Boston’s Logan Airport, I shuddered. We had flown out of there two mornings ago.

  My phone rang, and Dad didn’t give me a chance to say hello. “Are you at the airport?” he asked.

  “Yes, we’re watching everything on TV.” I couldn’t tear my eyes from the screen.

  “Do not get on that plane, Emily. We’ll find a way to get you home.”

  The pictures on television seemed like a bad dream, but the fear in my father’s voice made them a terrible reality.

  “I don’t even know if we’re taking off. They haven’t said anything yet.”

  “Well, whatever they do, you’re not getting on the plane. I want you out of that airport as soon as possible.” He paused and took a heavy breath. “Is Sergei there? I want to talk to him.”

  “Um, yeah, he’s right here. Hold on.” I passed the phone to Sergei. “My dad wants to talk to you.”

  As Dad spoke, Sergei didn’t say anything except “I will” and “Yes, sir.”

  Sergei returned the phone to me, and Dad continued his instructions. “You’re going to have to get a rental car. Call me as soon as you’re on the road. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Dad.”

  I hung up and asked Sergei, “What did he say to you?”

  “He told me to make sure you get home safe.”

  The events of the prior night came rushing back, and I dropped my gaze to the phone. Dad had no idea he was asking a liar and a cheater to look after me. But now wasn’t the time to think about what Sergei had done.

  I straightened my shoulders and grabbed my suitcase. “We should hurry to the rental car office before it gets too crowded.”

  Everyone else in the airport had the same idea. I couldn’t see where one line ended and another began. Sergei and I didn’t talk during the wait, and neither did most of the people around us. We were all too dazed by what we’d seen on television to comprehend it or discuss it.

  As the throng of people moved forward at a turtle’s pace, I wondered how I was going to survive a cross-country drive with Sergei. Just looking at him made me want to scream. He didn’t appear to harbor any guilt. How was I going to spend days locked in a car with him?

  My phone rang again, and the name on my caller ID was one I hadn’t seen in months. I lifted the phone to my ear. “Mom?”

  “Sweetie, oh thank God, I’m so glad to hear your voice.”
High-pitched hysteria filled hers. “I was in class when I heard about the crashes, and I didn’t know if you were already in the air. I was so scared I wouldn’t be able to talk to you, and if something happened to you . . .”

  Tears overtook her, and I clamped my hand over my mouth as I began to cry, too. I turned away from Sergei and gripped the phone tighter.

  “I’m so sorry, Mom. I never should’ve let our stupid fight go on so long.”

  “No, I shouldn’t have put you in that position. It wasn’t fair. I’m going to try to be more understanding.”

  I placed my palm on my forehead, not knowing if I should laugh or cry even more at the irony of the situation. Now Mom was ready to accept Sergei.

  My phone beeped and a red light flashed. “Mom, my battery’s low. I can use Sergei’s phone to call you later, okay? We’re almost to the rental car desk.”

  “Be careful, sweetie.” She sniffled. “Call me soon. I love you.”

  I took off my glasses to dry my eyes, and Sergei’s hand touched my shoulder. I flinched. He balled his hand and stared at it until the desk clerk motioned us forward.

  Armed with a large foldout map of the entire country and keys to a Ford Explorer, Sergei and I set off on our long journey home. He offered to drive first, so I settled into the smooth leather passenger seat. I used his phone to let Dad know we were on our way and left a message for Mom when she didn’t answer.

  The radio fed us a constant stream of updates about the terrorist attacks. Neither of us said much as we listened to the gruesome eyewitness accounts. I rested my arm on the console between the seats, but when Sergei squeezed my hand, I quickly pulled it out of his grasp.

  “I can’t even touch you now?” His eyes crinkled with hurt and confusion.

  I hugged my chest and faced the window. “Not after last night.”

  “What happened last night?”

  I shook my head in disbelief at his innocent act. “I saw you go to Leah’s room.”

  “What? I didn’t go anywhere near her room,” he insisted.

  “I saw you whispering together in the bar, and when you left, your elevator stopped on her floor.”

  He lowered the volume on the radio. “I stopped on your floor. I was going to talk to you.”

  I whipped my head in his direction. “Then how come I didn’t see you when I went upstairs?”

  “I decided when I got up there I shouldn’t bother you. I figured you’d probably get madder at me.”

  His explanation sounded so plausible, but I couldn’t forget what I’d seen in the bar. “What were you whispering about? And why was Leah all over you?”

  “She wasn’t all over me. How did you see us, anyway? Were you spying on me?”

  “I was in the lobby checking email, and the bar was in plain view. Why don’t you answer my question?”

  “Are you going to believe me when I tell you?”

  I noticed the speed of the car had picked up along with the tension of the conversation. The flat Texas landscape flew by outside my window.

  “Just tell me.”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror and slowed the car. “She gave me her room number, but I told her I’m seeing someone, and that was the end of it.”

  “Why would she ask you up to her room unless she thought you were interested?”

  “I don’t know. We went out a few times in Chicago. I guess she got the wrong idea.”

  I peered at him sideways. “Are you sure you didn’t give her the wrong idea?”

  “No.” He took his eyes off the interstate to look at me. “I can’t believe you thought I would sleep with her.”

  “You left within a minute of each other and you ended up on her floor.” My voice shook. “Tell me what I was supposed to think.”

  Anguish darkened his face. “You’re supposed to know I love you and would never even consider doing something like that.”

  I slunk down in my seat and bowed my head to hide the tears. Everything was such a mess. So many miles lay both between us and ahead of us, and I didn’t know how long it would take to travel either distance.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Are you hungry?”

  Those were the first words Sergei spoke in almost two hundred miles. After I’d accused him of cheating on me, he’d turned up the radio and gone quiet.

  “A little,” I replied.

  We were somewhere in Arkansas. I looked at the map for the fiftieth time and sighed at how far we were from home.

  Sergei exited the interstate and followed the signs to the nearest fast food drive thru. I searched for the healthiest item on the menu and was happy to have the salad as a distraction in the silent car.

  The radio reports became even more devastating as the hours passed, and phone calls home revealed everyone’s continued state of shock. Aubrey said the skaters at the rink were already thinking of ways to raise money for the victims’ families, while Chris said prayer services were being planned across the island. Mom kept me on the line the longest, seemingly trying to make up for the time we’d lost. She described the scene on Boston University’s campus–American flags were popping up in dorm windows and hundreds of students had gathered to pray on the quad.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about the passengers on the planes and the people trapped in the towers. What must’ve gone through their minds during their final moments?

  I stared at the radio and shook my head. “All those people got up this morning, went to work, went to the airport, having no idea they would never see their friends and family again.”

  Sergei gave me a quick glance and paused a few moments before he spoke. “I can’t imagine making that last phone call like some of them did. How do you say everything you need to in a minute or less?”

  “Makes you realize how important it is to not wait until it’s too late to say those things.”

  A longer pause hung between us, and Sergei snuck another look my way. “It’s good you and your mother are talking again. I went through something similar with my father.” He rubbed his hand slowly over the steering wheel. “After I quit skating.”

  “What happened?”

  “He thought skating was my one chance to do something great. When Elena got pregnant, he kicked me out of the house and didn’t speak to me for a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “A couple of years. Until he found out I was moving to the States.”

  “A couple of years? Wow.” I threaded my fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my forehead. “I can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been.”

  “It was very hard on my mother. She blamed my father when I told her I was leaving Moscow.”

  “Was he the reason you left?”

  Sergei shook his head. “When I got the offer from my friend to coach in Virginia, I felt it would be a fresh start. I wanted to put everything behind me.”

  I absorbed the new information, yet another important part of Sergei’s life he hadn’t shared with me. “All those months my mom and I weren’t talking, you never mentioned your dad.”

  He shifted in his seat and kept his eyes on the road.

  “Because then you would’ve had to tell me about the baby,” I added quietly.

  A few pairs of headlights zoomed past us before Sergei said, “You never would’ve screwed up like I did. You’re perfect and–”

  “I’m not perfect.”

  “You are to me.” He turned to face me and then looked away. “I didn’t want you to know the mistakes I’ve made, to regret getting involved with me.”

  “You were eighteen when you made those mistakes. You’re a different person now. You want me to trust you, but you didn’t trust me enough to open up to me.” I kept my tone as calm as possible.

  “If I could do it over again, I’d tell you everything.”

  I lowered my eyes to my lap. “I want to believe that.”

  “But you don’t.” He wasn’t able to mask the pain in his voice.

  “I d
on’t know,” I said sadly. My heart longed to put all my faith in him, but my head wouldn’t get out of the way.

  Silence returned to the car. Not long after we passed Nashville, Sergei started massaging his neck and squirming against his seatbelt. “We should probably stop soon for the night. I saw signs for some motels up ahead.”

  The lights of Cookeville approached. Sergei drove slowly down a row of motels and pulled into the Country Inn, which appeared the newest of the bunch. A handful of cars dotted the parking lot of the neat two-story building, so vacancy didn’t seem to be an issue.

  The young clerk welcomed us with an easy smile. He told us about the complimentary breakfast and directed us to adjacent rooms on an exterior corridor. As we unloaded our suitcases from the car, I asked Sergei if I could borrow his phone. I’d forgotten my charger at home, so mine was useless.

  A strong lemon scent greeted me upon entering my room. I felt my way in the darkness to the lamp, peeled away the comforter, and collapsed on the bed, stretching out my stiff limbs. I wasn’t accustomed to being so immobile.

  A hot shower beckoned, so I set aside Sergei’s phone to call my parents later. The steaming water loosened the knots in my back and neck. I stood under the powerful spray longer than usual, letting the warmth relax both my body and my mind.

  After I put on my pajamas and combed my damp hair, I curled up on the bed and called my parents’ house.

  “Hey, Mom, we’re at a motel in Tennessee.”

  “Do you have your own room?”

  I let out a tired laugh. No matter how upside down the world had become, some things never changed. “Yes, Mom.”

  “Make sure your deadbolt is locked. You never know what kind of people are staying at those places.”

  I smiled and shook my head. I never thought I’d miss Mom’s over protectiveness, but her safety reminder gave me a comforting feeling.

  “We’ll probably be home late tomorrow night. I can’t wait to get back on the ice.”