Crossing the Ice

by Jennifer Comeaux

  We went out to the ice and were joined shortly after by two junior teams and Stephanie and Josh. As we all warmed up around each other, I kept an eye on the newest addition to our morning session. They had a balletic style I envied — classic lines like the great Russian teams of the past. Mark and I had taken ballet classes over the years, but we just weren’t naturally elegant. We were known as an athletic team with speed and power who had to work hard at looking graceful.

  After we all sufficiently loosened our limbs, Sergei and Em hopped onto the ice, and Sergei skated over to Mark and me while Em headed for Stephanie and Josh. We stood in opposite corners of the rink like boxers huddled before a fight.

  I faced away from them and put all my attention on Sergei. I had to lose that mentality and realize the biggest competition we had was ourselves. We had to do just what I’d told Josh — focus on getting better. That was the only way we’d have a shot at the Olympics.

  Over the next couple of hours, Mark and I worked on a new jump combination with Sergei then choreography with Em then sections of our new programs on our own. I noticed Stephanie listening attentively to our coaches and following all their instructions, so maybe she had a decent work ethic after all. We’d see how she’d handle triple run-throughs later in the summer.

  During our mid-morning break, I grabbed my phone and an energy bar from my locker and went up to the lounge overlooking the ice. Stephanie and Josh sat in front of the big window with a couple of skating moms. Stephanie was eating some kind of cracker while Josh hungrily spooned his yogurt. I took a seat at a nearby table and started my morning ritual of checking all my social media sites. Mark plus a group of my training mates descended on the table and were noisily discussing the latest comic book movie when Em strode to the center of the room and clapped her hands together.

  “Since I have a lot of you here, Sergei and I want to invite you all to a barbecue Sunday at our house. We’re celebrating Memorial Day early since we’ll be here Monday.”

  “Free food?” Mark said. “I’m there.”

  “Sergei’s the grill master,” Kenny, one of the junior skaters, said.

  Everyone else chimed in with positive responses until Stephanie spoke loudly above the din, “Will there be options besides meat? I follow a strict vegan diet.”

  The room went silent, and Em hesitated a moment. “Sure. We’ll have lots of vegetables and salad and fruit. And if you tell me what kinds of dishes you like, I can make something for you.”

  “Vegan meals aren’t easy to make,” Stephanie said in a condescending tone.

  My eyebrows shot up, and a couple of throats cleared around me. No one questioned Em’s culinary skills. She was as proud of her cooking as she was her skating accomplishments.

  “I think I can whip something up,” Em said, not missing a beat. “I’ll email everyone the directions in case you don’t remember how to get there. Or if it’s your first time.” She smiled at Stephanie and Josh.

  She breezed toward the narrow stairwell, and the rest of us lingered a bit longer, finishing up our snacks before we had to get ready to put in another two hours on the ice. Once we donned our skates, Mark kept bugging me again to do run-throughs of our programs, and I continued to refuse. We couldn’t spend the next seven months trying to one-up Stephanie and Josh on a daily basis. That would take way more energy than simply concentrating on doing our best.

  By the end of the second hour, my face was caked with sweat, and pieces of my hair that had escaped my ponytail stuck to my forehead. Mark and I had done repetitions of our new triple toe-double toe-double toe combination until I’d lost count of the number. We were still out of synch on the takeoff of each jump, but we were landing them, which was the most important thing. Josh and Stephanie weren’t having the same success. Sergei was reworking their jump technique, and I winced on every hard fall they took. I knew what it felt like to slam into the ice that many times in one session, and it was a level of pain I didn’t wish on anyone.

  The big clock on the back wall ticked closer to one o’clock, and Em shouted, “Free-For-All Friday!” to which a chorus of cheers rang out from the group of us on the ice. All of us except Stephanie and Josh, who looked completely lost and confused over our excitement. Em skated over to the stereo next to the ice, and Josh glided over to me.

  “What’s Free-For-All Friday?” he asked as he wiped his glistening face with a towel.

  I leaned against the boards and recaptured the stray hairs in my ponytail holder. “At the end of every Friday session, Em puts on a random mix of music, and we all skate for fun and make up choreography. We go two at a time with everyone getting a turn.”

  “That sounds kinda awesome.”

  “It is. We look forward to it every week. Em and Sergei skate together sometimes, too, which is a lot of fun to watch.”

  “Mark and Kenny, you’re up first,” Sergei said.

  “Give us something good, Em,” Mark said as he pushed off from the boards.

  The rink came alive with “Viva La Vida,” and Mark and Kenny took off in opposite directions. I recognized most of Mark’s steps from the footwork sequence in our long program, and I shook my head. The whole point of the weekly exercise was to let loose and be original. My partner was awesome at following directions, but creativity didn’t exactly flow freely from him.

  Halfway through the song, Em cut the music and called out, “Stephanie and Courtney.”

  We gave each other cursory glances, and I straightened the straps of my tank top. I hoped we wouldn’t get a slow song where Stephanie could show me up with her perfect balletic positions. We established our starting spots far across the rink from each other, and the upbeat R&B sound of Ne-Yo’s “Miss Independent” burst through the speakers. I smiled and shook out my arms.

  Stephanie was smiling even more confidently, and my excitement dimmed. Free-For-All Friday wasn’t meant to be competitive, but the direct stare Stephanie aimed at me felt like she was saying, “Game on.”

  She began moving expertly to the beat, and I got started a few seconds later, watching her as I pushed hard into the ice. She’d probably taken hip-hop dance lessons from world-famous choreographers in L.A.

  Speeding across the center line, I broke into quick steps to match the chorus. My gangly arms flailed back and forth as I did my best to interpret the rhythm. When I looked up, I noticed Josh’s eyes following me, and my muscles tensed. I turned away from where he stood behind the boards and subdued my movements. I was used to only a familiar audience witnessing my spastic dancing.

  When Em halted the song, I let out a long breath and beat Stephanie to the ice door. Sergei directed Josh and junior skater Denise to get ready, and I grabbed my water bottle and took a long swig.

  “Mi Mancheri” was Em’s next song choice, and my eyes stayed on Josh just as his had on me. He moved like liquid across the ice, becoming one with the passionate violin. The expression on his face was so serene, and he looked totally in his element. Seeing him alone without Stephanie made his ability even more apparent. He was a true dancer on the ice. The lean of his body over his deep edges, how effortlessly he expressed the music through his long limbs, down to his fingertips and pointed toes…

  I backed away from the boards and took another long drink to wet my dry mouth. The younger girls were also staring at Josh, completely captivated. He didn’t seem to notice as he flew around the rink, lost in his own world.

  I studied his movements and the way he carried himself. Most of the guys I knew with that much artistic style and sensitivity to the music were gay. And Josh seemed to be a sensitive person off the ice, too. He was either gay or way more evolved than the straight guys I knew. Either way, it didn’t matter because I had more important things on which to focus.

  But it was an intriguing question.

  ****

  A light breeze blew across Em and Sergei’s back patio as I set bottles of mustard, mayo, and ketchup on the large round table. With the breeze came the mouth-wa
tering charcoal smell from Sergei’s grill, and my stomach rumbled. A few of my training mates had arrived and were milling about the back yard, and I hoped the rest would hurry up so we could chow down.

  Sergei’s fifteen-year-old daughter Liza opened the sliding patio door, and I spotted a familiar item in her raven-colored hair.

  “Is that my headband? You’ve only been here a day and you’re already stealing my stuff?” I tugged playfully on her long braid.

  Her mother, Sergei’s former skating partner, had driven her from New York for her annual summer-long stay on the Cape. Liza visited many weekends throughout the year and skated at our rink when she was in town, so we’d had a close relationship since she’d become a part of Sergei’s life six years ago.

  “I love your mom’s creations.” Liza adjusted the bright blue headband over her hair. “All her stuff is so pretty.”

  “She’s making more jewelry and fewer accessories now,” I said of my mom’s home crafting business, an extra source of income that helped fund the astronomical cost of my skating.

  “Did she make this?” Liza touched the maroon and gold woven bracelet I wore.

  “Yep, Boston College colors, which I’ll hopefully be draped in next year.” I crossed my fingers.

  “You’ll get in. You were super smart in high school. And your dad went there.”

  “Let’s hope the admissions office agrees,” I said and took a closer look at Liza. “You should keep the headband. It matches your eyes.”

  “Really?” she squeaked. “Thanks!”

  “Coming through… hot plate,” Em warned as she emerged from the kitchen carrying a ceramic casserole dish.

  She placed it on the table, and Liza lifted the glass cover. “What is that?”

  “Spaghetti squash pesto lasagna.”

  Liza leaned over the dish. “Sounds kinda fancy for a barbecue.”

  “It’s for Stephanie. She never gave me any vegan suggestions, so I found this recipe online.”

  “Ten bucks she doesn’t eat it,” I said.

  “Be nice.” Em pointed her potholder at me as she went inside.

  The high-pitched giggles of Quinn and Alex filled the air, and I turned toward the yard. Mark and Kenny were racing across the grass with the twins on their backs. They had a lot of space to play in the expansive yard. A wrought-iron fence surrounded the rear of the property, and just beyond it was a sparkling blue pond.

  When I turned back to the patio, Liza had disappeared and Stephanie and Josh had taken her place. Once again their outfits greatly contrasted — Stephanie in a crisp white shirt and pants, looking like she was going to a garden party, and Josh in a green T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts.

  “Did you find the house okay?” I asked.

  “We would have if someone had GPS in their car.” Stephanie’s oversized sunglasses glared at Josh.

  “Getting lost is one of the fun parts of being in a new place. It lets you see things you might not otherwise.” His normally soft voice had a stern edge to it.

  “I didn’t need to see three dead end roads,” she said and clomped in her wedge heels over to the ice chest on the edge of the patio. After plucking a bottle of water from the pile, she descended the steps to the yard and zeroed in on Denise, who happened to be from a wealthy Boston family. Did Stephanie have information on all our bank accounts?

  Josh moved toward the ice chest. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “Um… sure. I’ll take a diet lemonade.”

  Water dripped from the plastic bottle, and Josh wiped it with his shirt before handing it to me. While he uncapped his sports drink, I said, “It’s easy to get lost around here. I’ve lived on the Cape all my life, and I still discover little hidden areas.”

  “I’m looking forward to exploring it all while we’re here. What I’ve seen so far is really nice.”

  “Coco!” Quinn ran onto the patio and stopped at my side. “You see my horsee?”

  “He might be in my room. Remember you were playing with him there last night?”

  She looked up at Josh and cocked her head to one side. “Who you?”

  He grinned, and it was the first time I’d seen him completely relaxed off the ice. His blue eyes brightened and crinkled in the corners, and he crouched on one knee on the wooden planks.

  “I’m Josh. I’m one of your mom and dad’s new students. Who are you?”

  “I’m Quinn.” She stuck out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  He laughed, and so did I.

  “Nice to meet you, too, Quinn.” His hand swallowed hers.

  She looked back up at me. “I go find my horsee.”

  Before I could blink she’d raced inside. Josh glanced over his shoulder at the door and chuckled. “That’s one cute kid.”

  “She’s a riot. She’s not afraid to talk to anyone. Em and Sergei are going to have their hands full when she’s a teenager.”

  “You said you have a room here?” Josh asked.

  I nodded as I swallowed my lemonade. “My parents moved to Boston last year, and making that commute would be a pain in the butt, so Em and Sergei offered to let me stay here.”

  “That’s pretty cool of them.”

  “Yeah, I couldn’t afford my own place, so they really saved me.”

  Sergei bounded up the steps and slapped Josh on the shoulder on his way inside. “Hope you brought your appetite.”

  “It smells great,” Josh called after him.

  “So you’re not a vegan, too?” I asked.

  “No, I couldn’t live without burgers. I’ve been having In-N-Out withdrawals since I left L.A.”

  I laughed. “I can give you the names of some places around here with good burgers.”

  “That would be great.” His eyes brightened even more. “I need a lot of restaurant recommendations because I don’t cook and Steph only makes vegan stuff, so I’ll be eating out most of the time.”

  “The place where I work has really good food. I usually eat dinner there before my shift.”

  “You wait tables?”

  I took a quick sip of my drink. “I used to, but now I’m behind the bar.”

  “That must be an interesting job.”

  “It’s not as fascinating as it sounds. Most of the people who sit at the bar are loners avoiding a table for one.”

  He smiled and glanced downward. “Well, I’m one of those loners, so you might be seeing me soon.”

  I was about to reply, but Sergei returned with a large empty platter, and Em followed close behind with a matching one. They announced lunch was ready and started transferring the chicken and burgers from the grill, while everyone else swarmed the patio table to get plates. I cut into the lasagna and helped myself to a serving then watched as Stephanie took a long look before bypassing it for the salad bowl. Josh stood next to her, shaking his head as he spooned a big helping of the lasagna onto his plate.

  We all found places at the picnic tables set up on the grass, and Quinn squeezed between Liza and me. Em had cut up her chicken into bite-sized pieces, and Quinn popped one into her mouth and looked across the table.

  “Hi, Josh,” she said as she chewed.

  “Sweetie, close your mouth when you’re eating,” Em said.

  Josh smiled and put down his burger. “Hello again, Quinn. I haven’t seen you in so long.”

  She giggled. “You silly.”

  “This lasagna is soo good, Em,” Liza said loud enough for the whole table, including Stephanie, to hear.

  I suppressed a laugh with a bite of hamburger, while Em raised an eyebrow at Liza. But Liza added even louder, “Yum-O!”

  “Mommy best cook in da whole world,” Quinn said.

  Em reached over to wipe barbecue sauce from Alex’s chin. “I promise I didn’t bribe her to say that.”

  “Everything really is delicious,” Josh said.

  Quinn kept us entertained with her ramblings as we ate, and afterward everyone scattered around the yard again. I plopped down on the patio
swing, and Liza joined me with two of Em’s homemade fruit popsicles.

  “Grapefruit or pomegranate?” she asked.

  I chose pomegranate and took a bite of the cold sweetness. The slushiness stung my tongue.

  “Josh has definitely raised the cuteness level at the rink,” Liza said, her gaze trained on him.

  He stood beside Sergei on the grass, his hands in his pockets. His eyes were doing that crinkling thing again as he laughed. He was indeed very cute… always had been. And he was very fit. I didn’t like when guys were too beefy, and he had just the right amount of muscle filling out his T-shirt. But gay or straight, he was the competition, and eye candy was all he could be.

  “I wish he was my age,” Liza said.

  “Like your mom would let you go on a date. She freaks out when you talk to a boy.”

  She sighed. “A girl can dream.”

  “I’m not sure he’s into girls anyway.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Just the way he skates, and he has that whole sensitive thing going on.”

  “Not every guy who points his toes when he skates is gay. I don’t get that feeling from him at all.” She licked pink slush from her thumb. “He just seems like a sweet guy.”

  She took one last slurp of her popsicle and hopped off the swing. I continued to watch Josh until Stephanie stepped into my line of sight and made herself comfortable next to me. As comfortable as she could be in her fancy outfit.

  “I thought I should come over and give you some advice,” she said.

  Oh, this should be good.

  “I saw you checking out my brother, and I wanted to let you know you’re wasting your time because it’s never going to happen.”

  I didn’t know whether to be curious or insulted. Curiosity got the better of me. “Why? Because he’s gay?”

  She let out a tinkly laugh. “You think he’s gay?”

  “I wasn’t sure…”

  “I heard Kyle was cheating on you, so I guess your judgment of men does need a little work. But, no, Josh is most definitely not gay.”