Leaving Tracks

by Victoria Escobar

  When I was done with that, I began the walkways with the snow blower. By eleven, I was freezing, tired, and hungry as I still had yet to grab some food. But none of the Knifeblade women should have any issue with snow, or since I’d made sure to lay the ice melt, ice either.

  When Avala hailed me from the porch and came to me as I was climbing in the truck, I paused and waited. She was carrying a little cooler. I imagined Wesley called and requested something from the greenhouse.

  I couldn’t help but roll my shoulders, and realize that after a meal, and warming a little, I’d have to come back with Wesley or Thierry, possibly both and climb on the roof of the main house for those solar panels. I wasn’t looking forward to that.

  “You did a good job,” she said when she reached me.

  “Thank you, Avala. But you know Thierry would have my hide otherwise.”

  “Still. You could have half assed it.”

  “Would hate to have anyone fall,” I murmured thinking of what would happen if Hadley fell.

  Avala gave me a knowing smile. “Hadley’s made of sterner stuff. But I have something for you.” She held up the cooler. “There’s some beef stew in here with some cheesecake just for you. Don’t let your brothers have it.”

  I winked at her. “Thank you, Avala.”

  The kitchen was quiet when I got in and I thankfully sat at the table and ate my cheesecake while the soup heated. I finished the dessert before the soup finished so I pulled out the fresh bread and the butter. I was just sitting down to a bowl when Thierry and Wesley came stomping in.

  “Don’t yell,” I said automatically, “I just got in and this is my first meal of the day.”

  “I didn’t make beef stew.” Wesley commented easily.

  “Avala sent some over with her thanks. There’s more in the container on the counter.” I spooned up my soup and used it to remain silent for the rest of the meal.

  “Don’t leave.” Thierry ordered when I stood and put my bowl in the sink.

  “Haven’t done Avala’s roof yet.” I replied tensing up for the fight that was about to begin.

  “She can wait a few more minutes and then I’ll go over with you.”

  “The last time you said that she climbed onto the roof herself with her rock climbing ropes as a safety.” I reminded. It had scared us all shitless as she hung from her ropes to clear her roof. She’d promised not to do it again, but that was a strong willed woman and I didn’t want to chance it.

  “What do you have going with Hadley?” Theirry asked outright.

  I frowned, “Going? She’s pretty, ridculously smart, and…I guess the word would be vibrant. You can feel the life coming off her even when she’s weeping. It’s really powerful. I haven’t asked her out yet. Thought I’d give her some time to get used to my good looks.”

  “You think I’m joking?” Theirry’s tone clipped a sure sign he was struggling with temper.

  I shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”

  “North,” Wesley sighed and leaned against the counter behind Theirry. “Stop evading. You know what he’s talking about.”

  I rolled my shoulders and sighed. “She offered to teach me a few things. That’s all. I like her, and I think she misses the company that other skaters bring. I don’t pity her like they would and I think she appreciates that.”

  “Anyone would, I think.” Wesley muttered softly.

  “She said she’d coach you.” Theirry’s jaw ticked.

  I only sighed again. “It’s my choice how I want to spend my time.”

  “Like hell it is. As long as you live in this house—”

  “It’s not just your house,” I shout back. “I’m tired of your threats and accusations. If you want to throw me out then throw me out. It’s already plainly obvious what I want is non existant in your world.”

  “You need a real future.” Wesley soothed. “I don’t agree with Theirry on some points. Yes, I think you should be allowed to skate, but just by Hadley’s example you know accidents can happen. You need a fall back; a real one. I’d be willing to allow you to be properly coached if you could provide a real fall back career if an accident or even if you get bored with the sport, should occur.”

  I looked at Theirry, calculated. I thought it was time I used my trump card, but carefully. “If I did. If I enrolled in college in a real field of study and skated while I learned would you back off?”

  Thierry sat back in his chair and studied me carefully. The kitchen clock ticked loudly, and the grandfather clock in the parlor donged the hour loudly. “Yes,” Thierry said finally, “with some adendums. It has to be a real career. Something you could definitely have a future in. None of this general education bullshit. A real major with real prospects of a real job when you graduate.”

  I nodded. “Hold on a second.” I walked over to Wesley’s kitchen computer, signed into my email and printed my acceptance letter and current semester classes. I set them on the table in front of my brothers. “My classes start Monday.”

  Thierry gave me an incredulous look and studied the papers. Wesley leaned forward to read over his shoulders with a small half smile on his face.

  “You can’t argue that,” Wesley commented before Theirry could do just that. “It’s one of the best Art colleges in our nation. And ceramics is a viable and widely spread major that could put him in anything from glassware to fine China. It’s definitely prospective as we already know.”

  Thierry sighed and set the papers down.

  “Hadley’s in school for Finance and Accounting,” I told him, “she’s great with numbers. She’s not just a broken skater.”

  “School has to come first.” Theirry grumbled. “And the moment you fail a class you stop skating.”

  I felt the tension in the room ease a little. “I can agree with that. There’s another thing. Hadley’s coaching schedule…it conflicts with morning chores. Since you’re bending a little I can see if she will too, but that means I won’t be here during most of the day. The current schedule has the coaching from five to noon on Mondays and Thursdays and from seven to four on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I think it works around her class schedule.”

  Theirry drummed his fingers on the table and another long minute passed. “Fine. That’s fine. I hope you know what you’re getting into.”

  “I wish you had more faith in me and what I can do.”

  “A hobby isn’t a career.” Thierry said simply, then rose and left the room.

  “Be thankful you have the bargain.” Wesley commented after the front door opened and closed. “That’s more than you’ve had before. I suggest you take it and run as far as you can with it.”

  I nodded. When it came to my older brother that was sound advice.

  Hadley

  I decided since North was missing in action for the second day in a row to go to Morris by myself. It took some doing, Avala didn’t like the idea of me driving without a partner on still slightly snowy roads, and Morgaine insisted she would drive. Glory offered to skip school for the day and drive in with me.

  Denying them without hurting their feelings was getting harder and harder. I knew they loved me, just as I knew they saw me as crippled. I refused to see myself that way and wished desperately they’d stop looking at me as if I’d drop dead any moment. I wasn’t sick; I was hurt and that was a damn big difference in my book.

  I needed the time to myself. Needed that feeling of independence. And to tell my sisters that would certainly hurt their feelings. So I finagled and made promises and finally got the Jeep keys out of Avala.

  I hadn’t driven in snow before and thought it a decent experience. The drive into Morris wasn’t so bad. The roads were a little slick in places, but since Avala had insisted I take the Jeep and not the van, it hadn’t been scary.

  When I pulled into the lot of the skating shop and parked, I smiled at the structure. It hadn’t changed. In the ten years I’d been gone, the building’s roof still sagged and the paint was still a vomit y
ellow. The carved wood sign hanging over the door still looked like it could fall at any moment on an unsuspecting person. Grabbing North’s skates off the passenger seat, I hurried out of the Jeep to see if the inside was still just as untouched, and nearly fell on the thin layer of ice under the snow.

  I cursed viciously under my breath and held onto the Jeep door until I was sure I got my balance back. The ice was as common here as the worn out building, and I should have expected it.

  “You used to be good on the ice.” Someone snickered from behind me.

  I turned and pasted a polite smile on my face for Shania. She was, I knew, always pleased at someone else’s misfortune. Once upon a time, we’d been friends on the same skating team. Then we’d been bitter rivals.

  Her short cap of blonde hair looked like she’d just had sex with the way it was tousled and her sleepy blue eyes were enhanced with the paints most women relied on when inner beauty was snuffed out by the outer. Since her lipstick was a little smeared, I decided Shania probably had just crawled out of someone’s bed, and the thought put me in a better frame of mind. Let the bitch scoff at me, I still had respect, and pride.

  “Not going to say anything?” Shania crooned poutily.

  “Your lipstick’s smeared to the left,” I said evenly and picked North’s skates back up while slamming the Jeep door. I walked away and into the shop before Shania could make further comment.

  Her attitude wasn’t new. I had become accustom to its various forms over the last few years. Derision or pity was usually the front man. Scorn and fear backed them up on most occasions as well. What had happened could happen again and no one in the skating world liked that reminder.

  “Be with you in just a minute.” An older female voice called from behind a partially open door marked with employees only behind a high counter.

  “Sure.” I called back and went to the skates on the wall to compare them with North’s current pair. It wouldn’t be so hard to buy a new pair if he hadn’t worn the current ones down to the leather. The logo was gone, probably for some time so the best I could do was match boot shape and blades. I had it narrowed down to two when the Employees Only door swung open the rest of the way and Constantina stepped through.

  In her day, Constantina was a beautiful and elegant ice dancer. She still held onto the beauty and elegance in her fifties but gave up the ice when she got married. She was a little thicker than most skaters, but it wasn’t in an engorged way. She just had more hip than most women and if truth be told, a bit more chest. She was part of the community in Morris and her heritage was stamped on her face and skin much the same way Avala’s was.

  “Well, well, well.” Constantina’s smile was wide as she pulled me into a tight hug. “Look what the snow has brought me. I was not expecting such a delightful visitor when I opened shop today.”

  “It’s good to see you too.” I gave her a genuine smile. Constantina had always been a friend.

  “Let me see you.” She pulled away to study me. “Too thin yet. Is Avala feeding you?”

  “As far as I’ll let her.” I walked over to the counter with her. “I’m not dying of starvation, I promise.”

  We both looked over when the door jingled again and Shania came in with Elise, and Anna. The three girls smirked at me before walking over to peruse the racks of practice clothes, jackets, and skating accessories.

  “Your things aren’t in yet.” Constantina said to Shania. “You keep loitering and they may take longer yet to come in.”

  “My sister wants to skate. She thinks.” Shania sniffed sullenly. “I was looking to see if there was anything inexpensive I could get her while she goes through this phase.”

  “What’s wrong with your cast offs?” I asked. “Everyone knows you don’t wear anything twice.”

  Shania glared at me. “I’d rather she have something that’s hers not something that’s mine. You’d know all about cast offs wouldn’t you?”

  The other girls giggled but cringed and were quelled when Constantina gave them a hard look.

  I stared calmly at Shania, “My sisters are more than happy to share what they have with whoever needs. It’s called generosity. You may have heard of it.”

  “That’s enough.” Constantina’s sharp voice cut off any response. “Hadley has business, and unless you do to, I suggest you go elsewhere. I don’t have time to babysit today.”

  Shania huffed and stomped out with her tagalongs behind her.

  “I’m sorry, Constantina.” I didn’t meet her eye, “I should have been a bit more polite.”

  “The girls are a pain in the ass most days. It’s fine.” Constantina rolled her shoulders. “What do you have for me?”

  I set North’s skates on the counter.

  “Ouch,” Constantina covered her heart with her left hand. “My heart. What are these?” She picked one up, turned it, and studied it. “How old are these?”

  “Probably about ten years,” I replied and shrugged. “I didn’t ask but they’re worn through enough to be.”

  “The brand is worn away,” Constantina clucked her tongue. “Hold on a moment.” She vanished into the employee door still holding one skate and came back with a bucket of tools. “Let’s see if we can deduce size and year.”

  I shrugged. “I’m not very familiar with hockey boots. He was figure skating in them.”

  “Hmm, really?” Constantina only applied half her mind to the conversation as she measured, stuck her hand in the boot to check the inside, unscrewed the blade and studied the boot by itself. “I think about a twelve or thirteen. The way the toe is worn here suggests it’s a little too small, so thirteen would be a better bet. You want me to dispose of these and you can get him a new set?”

  “These have value to him.” I said, “A whole new set is fine. He can keep these for play.”

  “And who is this young man?” Constantina asked as she replaced the blade and walked to her wall of skates to study them.

  “North. North Graton.” I remarked. “I was thinking the 875, on the third shelf to the right. You don’t have Aria out here.”

  “I don’t carry them in store. I can order them in if that’s what you’d like to get him.” Constantina replied and pulled the boot down I specified. “The Graton boy doesn’t come this way often. He’s usually to the north.”

  “He’s associated out there.” I answered the unasked question. I pursed my lips a moment, “Can you order the Aria in time for Christmas?”

  “I can.” Constantina replaced the boot nodding. “I think your choice is good until the Aria come in. I’ll be right back; I’m going to set Donnie to work.” Constantina moved back behind the counter and disappeared into to the employee door with North’s skates in hand.

  I roamed the little shop space when she had gone, fingering various items. North could use some real practice clothes, and I should probably get a coach’s jacket that held up against the cold. His birthday was coming up in four months; it had been on the paperwork he had handed me. With the thought in mind I began collecting items from the racks–pants, shirts, light jackets, gloves, leg warmers, even socks–and folding them on the counter.

  The pink coach’s jacket was a thing of beauty and I passed it several times telling myself I didn’t really need something that fanciful. Giving into the urge after setting everything down, I pulled it from the rack and held it up to study.

  What I had mistaken for sheepskin on the inside of the jacket was something else. It was just as fluffy and when I pulled the jacket off the hanger to test it, just as warm if three sizes too large. Though the elastic in the cuffs and the bottom of the jacket held it in place fairly well.

  The outside of the jacket was made with a waterproof looking windbreaker material. The back was already lettered with “Coach” in capped varsity font. On the right breast was a pair of figure skates in black crossed over each other either in a jump or a spin.

  “It looks good on you.”

  I jumped guiltily and turned to C
onstantina, “It’s a little big.” I said holding out my arms to show the sleeves did, when allowed, fall way over my wrists.

  “Looks good. Gives you space for a sweater or two depending on location. You know some places are colder than others.” Constantina reaffirmed.

  “True.” I removed the jacket and set it on the counter with the rest of the items.

  Constantina raised a brow, but didn’t comment on the items. “Donnie will have the new skates ready in about fifteen minutes. The old ones in another fifteen. That’s enough time for you to summarize everything you’ve done in the last ten years.”

  I smiled. “Sure.”

  Since I had spent so much, Constantina had thrown in the skate sharpening and clean up to North’s old skates for free. I considered it good business practice not just a friend doing a friend a favor, though it could have been that too. Regardless, I was currently three thousand dollars poorer, but I would cut my own tongue out before telling anyone how much I had spent in Morris.

  North would be… What? I asked myself. Angry, possibly. Morgaine certainly would be if she found out. He’d feel obligated; I decided if he knew what I had spent to make sure his training was as smooth as possible.

  I had never discussed payments with him though, and for the sake of his career, we probably should. I’d make up invoices regardless and mark them as paid. Whether or not he paid them in money or goods was between us.

  He needed a sponsor. It was bad sense to sponsor and coach him, though there have been some skaters in the past with such behind them. I already knew Thierry wouldn’t sponsor his own brother. I pondered the dilemma as I drove home.

  I didn’t solve the issue in the short drive home, but I had an idea. An incredulous idea but one none the same and I wished I had a pen to write it down.

  I’d foot his bill for a month as a trial period for both parties. If he walked away then he’d pay half the costs for the one month of service. If he continued, or wanted to continue, I could arrange an exhibition with some of my contacts. Certainly, even without awards if he skated well someone would want to sponsor him. And if not… Well, that was a bridge I wouldn’t even look at unless it came up to be crossed. Being negative, I had learned–the hard way–solved nothing.