by Niles, Naomi
My heart opened up, and the smile came naturally to my face. Talen stuck his head out of the room. “Hey… we’re going to start dinner. Are you coming?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m coming. I just have a call to make first.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Jessica
“Want some water?” Winnie asked, shoving a glass toward me.
“That smells like alcohol,” I said, wrinkling my nose at her.
“Does it?” Winnie asked a little too innocently. “Oh right. That’s because it’s vodka-flavored water.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “I’m not preoccupied enough to fall for that.”
“You could have fooled me,” Winnie said.
The plane was full and the girls were sprinkled through the aisles in threes and twos. The plane was moving slowly down the tarmac as the emergency and safety announcements were being played on the screens in front of us.
“Isn’t this exciting?” Winnie crowed, as she took a sip of her ‘water.’ “I love this part of it… and Rio! I’m really excited for Rio.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Winnie gave me a sharp look. “Come on, Jess. You can muster up more enthusiasm than that, can’t you?”
I sighed. “Sorry… I am excited.”
“Bull,” Winnie said bluntly. “You’re moping about Alan.”
“I just can’t believe he’s going to miss this!” I said with frustration. “I mean… I completely understand why he can’t be here but… it’s just such a shame. He should be here.”
“He should,” Winnie agreed. “But he’s not. And there’s no sense in you wasting the experience by worrying about him.”
“That’s hard to do,” I said in a small voice.
Winnie looked at me pointedly and then her eyes went wide with realization. “Oh, my god,” she said, staring at me.
“What?” I asked, growing self-conscious.
“You’re in love with him!” Winnie said.
“I… what?” I said defensively. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Winnie acted like she hadn’t heard me. “I can’t believe this.”
“Winnie,” I cautioned. “Stop it. I’m not in love with Alan.”
Winnie narrowed her eyes at me. “Look me in the eye and say that… without blushing.”
“You know I blush for everything.”
“I knew it!”
I sighed.
“Why are you denying this?” Winnie asked. “Especially to me? You know I’m not going to judge you.”
I hesitated a moment and then I sighed again. “Okay, fine.”
“Okay, fine what?” Winnie asked pointedly.
“I… think that… I possibly… may be… in love with Alan,” I finished clumsily.
Winnie smiled triumphantly. “Not the most confident admission, but I’ll take it. How do you feel having admitted that?”
“I feel… worse,” I snapped. “I was working on being in denial before this moment.”
“Denial never solves anything,” Winnie said unapologetically. “It’s better to be in touch with your emotions than to hide from them.”
“I’m not going to be able to concentrate on anything now,” I complained. “And I already have enough to deal with… what with my father and his damn pride.”
“He still hasn’t come home, huh?”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “I thought he would… right before I left, but apparently, his pride is worth more to him than I am.”
“You can’t back down now,” Winnie reminded me.
“And I’m not going to,” I said. “I’ve come too far to go back to the dark ages now.”
“By dark ages do you mean back when you were a virgin?”
I shot Winnie a glare as she tried to suppress her laugh. “I just wish Peter was okay and Alan was here. He should be competing this year.”
“Listen, I get it, okay?” Winnie said. “You love the guy, you want to be with him, you want to share this experience with him. But the fact is you’re competing alone. You don’t need Alan Burbank to accomplish your own personal goals. You need to put him out of your head long enough to swim two hundred meters and then you can obsess about him as much as you want.”
“That’s my only option, I suppose,” I said.
Nearly fourteen hours later, we found ourselves in warm and beautiful Rio. The airport was packed, and the moment I stepped outside of the airport, my breath caught as I took in the stunningly bright colors and the multitude of sights that reminded me I was on an adventure.
En route to the hotel, my head was hanging out the window the entire time. I could see the wild terrain of the Tijuca forests sprawling around the city, with mountains on one side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. Everything seemed brighter and more vibrant in Rio. It was bursting with life, with lush greenery and the comforting caress of a tropical climate.
“Oh, my God,” Winnie gasped, as we passed under the foot of a mammoth mountain. “Can you see all the way to the top?”
“Not clearly,” I said, craning my neck to get a better look. “What are we looking at?”
“I think that’s Corcovado Mountain over there,” Winnie replied. “Which means–”
“The statue of Christ the Redeemer,” I said with excitement. “We’ll have time to visit the statue, won’t we?”
“After the games, we will.” Winnie nodded. “Most definitely.”
“Excellent,” I said. “I don’t want to miss that.”
We arrived at the hotel ten minutes later. The beautiful, sprawling building had local designs and patterns interspersed with modernity. Rio was the type of place that made you instantly happy without any reason. We checked in and then walked to our rooms. Winnie and I had requested a room together, and we were lucky that ours overlooked the colorful city and the ocean beyond.
“This is the life,” Winnie crowed as she jumped onto her single bed. “I think I might move here one day.”
“When you’re old and gray?” I teased.
“Why wait that long?” Winnie said. “I’ll be ready to move once I retire from swimming.”
“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” I said as I followed Winnie’s example and collapsed onto my bed, too.
We barely had time to luxuriate in the comfort of our room when there was a knock at the door. “Come on in,” Winnie yelled and a moment later Erin poked her head through the door.
“Hey, guys,” she said. “Damn… you have a nice view.”
“Yup,” Winnie said triumphantly. “Aren’t we the lucky ones. What’s up?”
“Coach just dropped by,” Erin continued. “She wants us to meet downstairs in an hour for our first practice session.”
“Seriously?” Winnie said. “Already?”
“She doesn’t want to waste any time,” Erin replied. “The opening ceremony’s tomorrow night, by the way.”
“Thanks, Erin,” Winnie replied sarcastically. “Like we didn’t already know that.”
“Just saying,” Eric said. “Anyway… downstairs in an hour, okay? Coach wants us to be on time, and she mentioned you specifically, Winnie.”
Winnie turned to me, looking affronted. “What does that mean?”
“I think that means you’re usually late,” I laughed.
Winnie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Tell her royal highness that we’ll be downstairs and ready to attend her.”
Erin left the room laughing, and Winnie turned to me with a sour face. “We haven’t even been in Rio two hours, and we’re already back to training.”
“Have you forgotten why we’re here in the first place?” I asked teasingly.
“I haven’t,” Winnie said sharply. “But seriously? They could cut us some slack… we’re in Rio for fuck’s sake.”
“We’ll get all the down time we want once the Olympics are over,” I reminded Winnie. “Now chill out… we still have a little time before we have to go down.”
While Win
nie stretched out on her bed, I went to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. My initial awe at seeing the beautiful city had faded and now I was back to obsessing about Alan. I wanted him to be here, too; I wanted him to experience the city and the amazement of being here, competing in the Olympics. I hated that he had to miss it and it made me feel less motivated to swim.
By the time Winnie and I got ready and met the others downstairs, I still hadn’t been able to shake my disappointment. I kept alternating between wishing Alan would call and wanting to call him myself. But I didn’t have much time to think about it because within minutes of reaching the foyer, Coach had us in a little bus and heading to the training ring reserved for Olympic athletes.
It was a heady feeling to be training in a pool that former gold winners had swum in, but again, I was unable to muster up the same type of enthusiasm and awe. Coach had us run one drill after the other and then she had us swim individually so that she could assess our strengths. Winnie and I sat by the side of the pool, watching the girls as we waited for our turn.
“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” Winnie asked, glancing at me.
“I wish I could turn my brain off… I really do,” I sighed. “But…”
“Hey, I get it,” Winnie said with understanding. “You’ve never been in love before.”
“I’m really stupid, aren’t I?” I sighed.
“How are you stupid?” Winnie asked, wrinkling her eyebrows together.
“For letting myself fall for him in the first place,” I said. “I mean, come on, it’s such a cliché to fall in love with the first guy you sleep with.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Winnie asked shrewdly.
“No,” I was forced to admit. “I just…”
“Yes?”
“What if he doesn’t feel the same way about me?”
Winnie looked at me carefully and I knew that she didn’t want to give me false hope. She was not the type of friend who would just say what you wanted to hear. She was honest; it was one of the things I admired most about her.
“You’ll only know that when you speak to him, Jess,” Winnie said in a measured voice. “He’s the only one who can give you that kind of closure. I can’t speak to whether or not he’s in love with you but I do know he cares about you a lot.”
“Based on?”
“The way he acts around you,” Winnie replied. “The fact that he hangs on your every word, the fact that he asked you to his hometown carnival and introduced you to his brothers. Those are all positive signs. He wouldn’t have done any of that unless he really cared about you.”
“I suppose so,” I said. “But we can’t know for sure.”
“No, we can’t,” Winnie agreed. “It’s up to you to find out.”
“Jessica!” Coach’s voice rang through the training ring. “You’re up. Come on.”
I was forced to leave Winnie and make my way to the head of the pool. My head was reeling from the conversation I’d just had about Alan and I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head before I dove in. The water hit my body, my muscles pushed through as I spurred myself to swim faster and stronger, but I wasn’t really there. My head was going a million miles per hour, but nothing was invested in the task at hand.
When I finally pulled myself out of the water and faced Coach, she looked at me with worry in her eyes. “Jessica, are you okay?”
“Of course.” I nodded quickly. “Why?”
“That last lap,” she said. “That wasn’t you at all.”
“How did I do?”
“Two minutes and thirty-four seconds.”
“Seriously?” I asked in shock.
“You were distracted the whole way through.”
I hung my head. “Yeah, I know…”
“Is something on your mind?” Coach asked, taking a step toward me. “You were my fastest swimmer back in Colorado. What happened between then and now?”
“I… nothing,” I said quickly. “I mean… I guess I’m just nervous.”
“But you’re not a nervous swimmer,” Coach continued. “You’re always confident the moment you hit the water. This is not you.”
“I know,” I sighed. “I’m sorry; I’ll try to do better.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to,” Coach replied. “You’re going to have to swim a whole lot better if you want to take home any kind of medal. You need to focus and became the girl you were back in Colorado.”
“Easier said than done,” I mumbled to myself as I turned away from her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Alan
The opening ceremony was as grand as you would expect for the Olympics. My heart beat a little faster as the music scaled upward in the bone-chilling climax. Goose bumps rose on my skin and I realized how much more thrilling it would have been had I been there.
I had tried calling Jessica from the hospital, but I couldn’t get through. I didn’t want to send a message. It felt too impersonal somehow, and I didn’t think the written word would convey all the emotion I wanted to get across.
“I should be there,” I mumbled to myself as the opening ceremony drew to a close.
“Did you say something?”
I turned around in surprise. I had been so mesmerized by the television that I hadn’t realized that John had entered the room. “Hey,” I said. “How long have you been standing there?”
“A couple of minutes,” John replied. “You seemed preoccupied.”
I glanced at the television and then I switched it off. “Where are you headed?”
John was adjusting the clasp on his watch. He was wearing dark pants, a smart button-down shirt, and a tie. “Are you trying to change the subject?” he asked, as he came to sit next to me on the sofa.
“A little,” I admitted.
“I’m off to the hospital in a bit,” John said. “But I have some time to spare before I go. Would you like to talk about something?”
“Not really.”
“Alan,” John said, in a voice that sounded a lot like Peter’s.
I smiled. “You sound like Peter.”
“That’s what I was going for,” John replied. “He’s not here at the moment, so I’m filling in for him.”
I laughed. “That’s not necessary, John.”
“I know that,” John said. “But it’s what we do for family.”
I sighed. “I guess I was thinking… about Dad.”
“Yes?”
“He was the one who encouraged me to start swimming in the first place,” I recalled. “I was about six, and he took all of us to the public pool.”
“I remember.” John nodded.
“You weren’t there,” I said, wrinkling my brows.
“No, I wasn’t.” John smiled. “By the time he introduced you and Sam to the pool, Peter and I had lost interest in swimming and we had taken up football. But I remember Dad taking us down to the Stratford pool. You were only a baby at the time.”
“Oh,” I said. It was just like Dad not to single out any of his sons. What he did for me, he would have done for all my brothers, and vice versa. “Well… I remember that first day. I was terrified of swimming. I was convinced I would drown.”
“But you didn’t,” John said.
“Actually… I came close,” I admitted.
“What?” John asked, looking at me with surprise.
I smiled and nodded. “Yeah… not many people know that. Not even Sam.”
“What happened after that?” John asked with interest.
“There was this rookie coach at the pool that day and he was teaching some of the younger kids how to swim. I was watching, but it didn’t make sense to me and the reason it didn’t make sense to me was because I was too scared of drowning. The coach told me that all I had to do was move my arms, kick with my legs, and then I would be swimming. It seemed simple when he said it like that. I was scared of trying in front of an audience. So the moment I felt like no one was watching me, I did jus
t as the coach told me to do. I moved my arms, I kicked my legs, and I pushed myself out into open water.”
“And then what happened?”
“I started sinking,” I said.
John raised his eyebrows. “The coach caught you in time, huh?”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Dad did.”
“Dad?”
“He jumped into the pool and grabbed me before anything serious happened,” I narrated. “He took me back to the shallow end of the pool where it was just him and me. I clung on to him and begged to get out of the water.”
“He didn’t let you get out, did he?”
“He told me that if he let me get out of the water, then I would never get back in. I would always have a fear of swimming and that fear would cripple me my entire life. He asked me what I was scared of, and I told him I was frightened of drowning.”
“What did he say to that?”
“He told me that fear came from the inability to understand. Because I didn’t understand how to swim, I was scared of it. He told me that once I understood how to swim then I would never ever drown and my fear would disappear.”
“And did that work?”
“Actually, it did,” I said. “It became clear to me. If I learned to swim, then I would never drown. It made so much sense that I was determined to learn immediately. Dad was the one who gave me the confidence I needed.”
“And?”
“By the end of the second hour, I was swimming,” I recalled. “I don’t know how it happened. I think it was because I was so elated from the belief that I would never drown… that it made me a stronger, more confident swimmer. To this day, I still believe that if it hadn’t been for the fact that I almost drowned that day, I might never have become an Olympic swimmer.”
“Wow,” John said, shaking his head. “That’s quite a story.”
“It is, isn’t it?” I laughed. “I haven’t really shared that with anyone before.”
“What made you think of it?”
“I was watching the opening ceremony of the games,” I said, gesturing to the television.
“And you were wishing you were there… am I right?”
I smiled. “Maybe a little.”
“You should be there,” John said. “That is who you are, Alan. You’re a swimmer.”