Skater's Waltz

by Peggy Jaeger

“That damn peace treaty! Cole will have to leave again to cover the story from Africa. He’ll never take the anchor spot. He’ll be gone again, just like before, for months and years.”

  “Sweetie, Mike told me last night that Cole has already declined Stepman’s offer. He told him yesterday. He doesn’t want the job.”

  She pushed back her hair from her face and sighed. “I knew it. He didn’t even bother to tell me. I knew it was too good to be true. Now he’ll go off to some other godforsaken country to do another story. He’ll breeze back into town when it suits him, camp out here for a while, and then be off again. Damn him.” She punched the couch pillow.

  “Tiffany, you can’t be like this. This is Cole’s career. It’s who he is. His job is what he needs to do for himself, to define himself.”

  “What about what I need? What about what we mean to each other? Am I supposed to continue pining away for him, happy when he comes back for a few days, then miserable when he leaves?”

  “Tiffany Judith Lennox, listen to yourself. I’m shocked and disappointed in you.”

  Tiffany slammed her mouth closed.

  “How selfish can you be?” Carly asked. “The world doesn’t revolve around you and your needs. And neither does Cole. He has a career. He wants so much out of life. How dare you deny him that?”

  “I thought he wanted me!” She fell into her mother’s arms, weeping and sobbing with every ounce of energy she possessed.

  Her mother held her, comforted her, and let her cry it out.

  When she had no more tears, Tiffany pulled herself upright and sniffed. She rolled her eyes and said, “Well, that was certainly unproductive. Remind me how exhausting crying is the next time I need a jag.”

  Carly smiled. “Now, that’s my baby.” She rubbed her finger across a stray tear from Tiffany’s cheek. “Do you feel any better?”

  “No. What I really feel is hungry. We never stopped for lunch today and all I’ve had is my protein drink.”

  “Come on, then.” Carly rose and pulled her along with her. “Let’s dive into these bags.” While she laid the food out onto the breakfast bar, she said, “This thing with Cole.”

  “Don’t say it, Mom. You don’t have to. I know everything I said was childish and selfish, just like you told me it was.”

  “Tiffany.”

  “No, let me finish. I know Cole could never possibly feel for me what I feel for him. Never love me as much as I do him. I can live with that, as long as I know he cares about me.”

  “He does, sweetie, deeply. He told me so himself when you were in the ER. I’ve never seen him so shaken.”

  Tiffany nodded. “I know he does. Just like I know how important his career is to him. He needs to prove to everyone he’s not like his parents. That he has value as a person, he’s productive, responsible, whatever.” She flipped her hand in the air.

  Carly gaped at her daughter.

  Tiffany grinned. “Surprised you, didn’t I?” With a careless shrug, she said, “Mom, I grew up with Cole. I knew everything that went on in his life from the time I was six. I was the one who went with him to the prison to claim his father’s body. I was the one who held him when he cried and swore he would never turn out like his father or drug-addicted mother. I was the first one he called when he was nominated for the Peabody, and I was with him when he lost. He’s leaped from country to country, assignment to assignment, anything and everything given to him, just so he could prove to the world—and, I’m pretty sure himself—he has some value. Who knows better than me about the wanderlust in his heart? It’s impossible for him to settle down in one place for too long. God, Mom, he’s never even had his own apartment. He’s always been here with us or in shabby sublets. He can fit his entire wardrobe into two suitcases with room to spare.”

  “Tiffany, you amaze me,” Carly said through tears. “I never knew you saw all that or felt it. Mike and I have tried to give him roots. We’ve done everything to make him feel wanted and loved. He’s been like my own son since the moment I married Mike, and in truth, I couldn’t love him more if he was.”

  “I know. I’ve seen it, firsthand. I know he appreciates it, and he adores you. You’ve been more of a mother to him than his own ever was before she died. But there’s still a part of him that needs to prove himself, and this is the only way he knows how to do it. So I guess I have to accept how it is between us if I want him in my life.” She looked across the breakfast bar at her mother. “And I do want him in my life. I always have and always will.”

  “As much as you’ve been there for him, sweetie, he’s been there for you too.”

  “He has. He’s always been my biggest supporter, and I love him for that. I just plain love him, Mom. So much.”

  Carly reached over and squeezed her hand. “How did you get so smart and grown-up?” she asked.

  “Good genes, as Grandma would say. Come on, let’s eat.”

  They spent the rest of the evening talking and watching the news. Mike, as network anchor, hosted a news special on the peace treaty and its ramifications. Every now and then Cole broke in with some report or to discuss the unraveling situation. He was the only news reporter to snag Secretary of State Macman for a full sit-down interview, which the network broadcasted live. Tiffany’s heart swelled with pride as Cole delivered each question with professional polish and countered each answer with more in-depth probing.

  When Tiffany announced she was getting tired, the two of them cleaned up the kitchen and stored the extra food in the refrigerator for Cole. Tiffany wrote him a note and left it on the breakfast bar.

  “You feel confident about tomorrow?” Carly asked while Tiffany undressed.

  “Sure. I can do those routines in my sleep. I don’t even think anymore about the moves. They just come.”

  “About this other stuff.” Carly bit her bottom lip.

  “Don’t worry, Mom. Sean has it all taken care of. If anyone is going to try anything, it’ll be right before or during the show. We’re covered. Please don’t worry.”

  Carly kissed he daughter’s brow. “You can’t tell me not to be concerned. I’m a mother. It’s my job to worry about my baby.”

  Tiffany rolled her eyes and yawned. “I’m not a baby anymore.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll always be my baby. Don’t forget it.”

  She kissed her cheek again and turned out the light.

  ****

  Hours later Cole came home, saw the note, but decided he was more tired than hungry. He went into Tiffany’s room and gazed down at her sleeping form.

  She looked so content, so beautiful, his heart quite literally stopped while he looked at her. He wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed beside her, take her in his arms and let her warmth steep away the cold and fatigue consuming him.

  But he had other things to do before the morning and they couldn’t wait.

  Stepman had contacted him at the UN and informed him a charter flight was ready to take him back to Sudan as soon as possible. Cole told his boss he couldn’t possibly leave until late tomorrow night. He had to see Tiffany skate first, had to make sure she was unharmed before he could leave the country.

  In his room, Cole took his suitcases from the closet and cursed.

  He’d barely been home two weeks. Only two weeks to spend with her. He rubbed a hand over the aching pain that’d surfaced in his heart and realized for the first time in his professional life he was debating about whether to leave or stay.

  Home. He wanted to stay home.

  No, he needed to stay home. He’d rather be here than anywhere else, no matter what the story, no matter what the place.

  Home.

  Home and Tiffany.

  Cole collapsed onto the bed and covered his eyes with his hands. He couldn’t get out of this assignment, and in truth, he wanted to see it through, if for no other reason than to close out two of the worst years of his life. And it would be his last assignment, of that he was certain. No more traveling, no more sleeping in lousy, lone
ly hotels. No more missing the people who mattered to him more than anything else. From now on he knew exactly where he wanted to be.

  And with whom he wanted to be.

  Chapter Twenty

  Tiffany found Cole’s suitcases parked in the hallway when she woke up. Her heart jumped a little at the sight, but she told herself to calm down.

  She found a note taped to the kitchen counter.

  “Sorry I didn’t get a chance to see you last night or this morning. I didn’t want to wake you because I wanted you to be rested for the show. I’ll be busy all day, but I promise I’ll be there tonight. I’ve got my admittance ticket with me. Good luck, Brat. Cole.”

  At the bottom he’d added, “I’ve got to leave tonight right after the show. Be a pal and bring my bags down to the front desk. I’ve arranged for them to be picked up this afternoon. Thanks, C.”

  Tiffany laughed and wiped an errant tear from the corner of her eye. “Sure, I’ll be a pal, Cole,” she said aloud. “I’ll be anything you want.”

  The past few days had been a roller coaster of emotions. From the attempts to get her out of the ice show to the life altering changes in her relationship with Cole, Tiffany had never experienced such highs and lows in such a short amount of time. It was a testament to her ability to focus and compartmentalize to the exclusion of all else which helped her move through the myriad of feelings swirling within her. Cole had called her stubborn. Yes, she was, and thank God for it.

  Because now, when she’d finally convinced him they were meant to be together, instead of enjoying this time, she was being forced to relinquish it. Cole was leaving, and she was expected to put aside her feelings, desires, and needs and accept it.

  Her world had changed in the blink of an eye. Cole saw her now as a woman. A vital, attractive woman. What she’d always wanted him to see.

  Their life-long love for one another had matured and blossomed. And she knew Cole loved her. Maybe he wasn’t in love with her, as her romantic heart would have liked, but she knew he did have strong, loving feelings for her. And she loved him for the person he was. She couldn’t ask him to change, and didn’t know if he ever would. If he did, would he grow to resent her for forcing a decision between her and his career?

  She could live without knowing the answer.

  If he had to go back, so be it. She could still love him. She could still have him in her life, whether he was down the hall or half a world away. Her dreams of marriage and children, of spending their years together happy in Carvan, giving their children all the love and advantages they had, were pushed to the back of her mind.

  In an instant she finally understood what true love really meant. It wasn’t making the other person feel unhappy by forcing them to do things they didn’t want to do. It was supporting them, no matter what their choice, and loving them unconditionally for it.

  Hadn’t that been the way she was raised? Wasn’t it the reason she was who she was? Why she’d accomplished all she had to this day?

  Unconditional love. She loved him enough to let him go do the things he needed to do. Live the life he wanted for himself.

  Tiffany was stunned.

  She really had grown up.

  To expel some of the restless energy she always had on a performance day, she went up to the loft. Dancing would help release some of those typical pent up worries she always had before a big event. With the music loud, she shoved every nervous thought from her mind, and put herself through a vigorous two-hour exercise and dance routine. By the end, she was pouring with sweat and felt mentally cleansed.

  Only ten more hours to go. Ten more hours of sitting around, bored and lonely.

  No way.

  She attacked the shower and scrubbed away every last drop of sweat from her body, adjusting the water temp so it was as hot as she could stand it. Now, physically as well as mentally cleansed, she dried her hair, dressed, and made a decision.

  She didn’t want to sit around, sequestered in the apartment all day, waiting for show time. It was a beautiful fall day, and she wanted to be out in it.

  She dragged Cole’s suitcases down to the front desk, gave them to Peter, and told him someone would be by to pick them up.

  Out on the avenue, Tiffany inhaled. The day was crisp, clear, and cloudless, with a spirited breeze billowing between the tall buildings. She drew in another deep breath, and delighted in the cool air as it danced its way down to her lungs. With a smile, she started to walk.

  Since it was almost noon, the streets were crowded with workers moving fast from location to location, trying to fit in errands, lunch, and a little downtime on a scant hour break. Tiffany took her time and ambled, her head high, enjoying the freedom. She ran the routines over in her head, the music pounding loud and resonant as she did each spin, stunt, and jump.

  Along Fifth Avenue the pedestrian traffic grew crowded, with masses of people moving in tight groupings along the narrow sidewalks. Tiffany was jolted more than once as someone sped by her. At one corner, the light turned red, and she stopped with dozens of others to await the traffic’s movement across. While she stood with the others waiting for the light to change back, she stumbled off the curb directly into the oncoming traffic. Her shoulder jammed hard onto the pavement, and she lost her breath. Someone screamed. A series of car horns blared close to her ears.

  “Are you all right?” a voice asked.

  Her vision clouded, and a wave of dizziness crashed through her head.

  “Did she hit her head?”

  “I think she hit her shoulder.”

  “Somebody get a cop!”

  “Can you stand?”

  Tiffany reached out to the helping hands extended to her. She attempted to pull herself upright, but stopped, gasping, when daggers sliced down her left arm.

  “Hold on, hon. Let us do the work.”

  Two burly construction workers lifted her. Their meaty hands stayed wrapped around her upper arms, even when she was upright.

  “Here comes a cop. Why don’tcha get her back on the sidewalk so the cars can go?”

  “I’m okay, thanks,” she said shakily, supported by the strong arms of her two construction saviors.

  “You don’t look it,” one of them said. “You always this pale?”

  “What’s going on here?” a uniformed officer asked.

  With a fair amount of interruptions from the bystanders, Tiffany explained how she lost her footing and stumbled off the curb.

  “You okay?” the officer asked. “Nothing feels broken?”

  She thought about her left shoulder and the dull ache now flowing down to her left hand. “No, I think everything’s okay.”

  “You sure?”

  Stronger now, and hating the attention, she nodded and fought for a smile. “Yes, I am. Thank you,” she said to the two men who’d come to her rescue. “I guess I miss-stepped.”

  They nodded. “Easy to do when you can’t see what’s under your feet.”

  “Where ya headed?” the officer asked.

  Wiping her dirty hands, Tiffany glanced down at her jeans. They were covered with street grime and dirt. “Nowhere, really. Just out walking. I guess I’d better go back home and change.”

  “Your call. Sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes, Officer, thank you so much.”

  Tiffany backed up, turned and began walking home. Before she’d gone a block the shaking started and she couldn’t stop it. The lie she’d told the officer about falling from the curb had flown, replaced by what she knew to be the truth.

  She’d felt a hand, hard and firm on the small of her back, just as the light turned red. A hand had shoved her forward before she could think, before she could stop and brace herself from falling. By the time she’d risen from the ground, whoever had pushed her fled.

  The threat of it happening again intensified her shaking. Her heart pounded as a crushing fear burned right through to her core. She needed to get off the street and get some help. The quickest ally wasn’t far away,
but she didn’t dare walk there after this. Turning, she hailed a cab, miraculously getting one on the first try, and climbed in.

  “Where to?” the driver asked.

  “EBC Studios, please.”

  ****

  “What happened to you?” Mike asked when she burst into his office unannounced. “My God, Tiffany, are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  He pulled her into his arms. “Rose!” he called to his secretary. “Get Tiffany a glass of water.”

  When she went lax in his arms he shoved her into a chair. “Sit down,” he ordered. “Put your head between your knees. Do it.”

  Obediently, she did.

  “Thanks, Rose,” he told the secretary, and took the water from her. “Do me a favor and get my wife on the phone, please.”

  He handed Tiffany the glass. “Here, sweetheart, drink this.”

  Like someone dying of thirst, she gulped the water.

  “Take it easy,” Mike said. “You don’t want it to come right back up.”

  She eased back in the chair, the half-empty glass shaking in her hand. Mike took it from her.

  “Now, tell me what happened.”

  His eyes grew dark and furious when she revealed she suspected someone of deliberately pushing her off the curb and into oncoming traffic.

  “Damn it, Tiff, this is too much. It means someone was following you. You didn’t see anything or anyone?”

  “I didn’t, no.” Her head grew suddenly heavy and she dropped it back down into her hands. “I thought...I don’t know what I thought.”

  Rose’s voice shot into the room from the intercom. “Your wife’s on line one.”

  “Carly? What are you doing?...because I need you to come down to my office. Tiffany’s had an accident...No. She’s all right, just shaken...she says someone pushed her into traffic when she was out walking...No...I’ll call him...Yes, as soon as possible.”

  He hung up. “Your mother’s on her way down to take you home. I’m calling Detective Wilson. He needs to know about this.”

  Tiffany slumped in the chair, head still in her hands. This was too much for one person to handle. She wanted Cole. She needed to feel his hands hold her, his protective arms wrap around her, his lips brush her forehead and tell her everything was going to be just fine.