Home Ice (20 page)

“Okay, I’m gonna need confirmation my words are going in those ears and you’re not having some kind of cerebral event like an aneurysm.”

“I’m … good.”

“Oh honey. You can skate, and you can sing, but acting doesn’t make the list. What’s the matter?” Margo lowered her voice. “You know you’re the best one out there.”

It wasn’t something she’d ever thought about, but deep down, she
had
believed she was the best one out there.
Maybe they were right to hate me
. And now? She’d practiced all week with the cast and on her own. She seemed to be up to par. But there was nagging doubt in the back of her mind that questioned if she were really as good as before. She couldn’t entirely duck the fear that something would go wrong, and she’d injure her ankle again. For good.

Margo took Lori’s face in her hands and leaned in, demanding eye contact. “Snap out of it. You can do this. You’re ready. You’re healed. The only way to get back into it is to get back into it, and keep in mind that this is a means to an end. You have another gold medal with your name on it, and I expect you to bring it to
Divas
one day.”

A smile finally broke free, and Lori nodded. It was hard to argue with that.

Margo stepped back and picked up the blush brush. “All right. Now let me work my magic.”

Once she had her full face on, Lori slid out of the chair and hugged her friend. Margo was stiff at first, like she hadn’t been expecting it, then hugged back. “Okay.” Margo slid a fingertip under each eye as they stepped away. “You’re going to make my mascara run, and with the amount I wear, I’ll look like a horror movie monster.”

“Drinks after?”

“You better believe it. My treat.”

Love you
bubbled up in Lori’s throat, but if she actually said it, she’d ruin
her
makeup, and then the glamazon would never forgive her.

Even without the vocalization, Margo seemed to know and gave a firm nod as if to say
Love
y
ou, too.
“Now get on with you.”

Lori took a deep breath and headed for the rink entrance. Before she got there, a small hand grabbed her arm with surprising strength but let go when she turned around. Francesca stood to the side by the lockers, her expression blank.
Oh good. Because the one thing tonight needed was more drama.

“Hey. I wanted to say … I’m sorry.”

It was such a shock that it didn’t completely sink in. She must have misheard. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry I gave you the cold shoulder for so long. Sorry for the little pranks. Sorry for not believing you about Bradley.”

After a second, Lori realized her mouth was hanging open, so she closed it and tried for composure. Francesca was apologizing. Winning the lottery had always seemed like a bigger possibility.
I should say something
. “Thank you. And I saw you guys practicing last week and what he tried to pull. You let him have it pretty good.”

Francesca’s mask broke, and a satisfied grin took over. “He deserved it. He was afraid to touch me for a while after that, but it didn’t last for long. I’m actually glad I’m not …” She trailed off as if she realized what finishing that sentence would be mean.
I’m glad I’m not the lead anymore.
Because the other half of that was
I’m glad he’s your problem and not mine.
And that would effectively undo the progress they’d made. “If he still gives you trouble, we can both talk to the producer. Harder for them to ignore two of us.”

“Thanks.” Lori smiled. Talk about unlikely allies. But a friend was a friend, and Francesca had made an effort.

The theme music filled the arena, cueing them to line up. Bradley took his place beside her. They skated out holding hands to the cheers of the audience, and Lori fought back the wave of revulsion that told her to let go and shake off the germs. Show face in place, she gave the first number her best, and surprisingly, it was seamless. Like the show’s opening night, once she got into the groove and let choreography take over, there was very little thinking necessary. Despite her freak-out, her body still knew what to do, and it was such a relief, she almost missed a step but caught herself. Bradley shot her an annoying little smirk, and for the rest of the first half, she focused on wiping it off his face, hitting every turn, every jump, every lift perfectly.

By the second half, she was
on
, and it felt amazing. No more fear, no more what-ifs filling her head. She nailed every routine, and the love from the audience lifted her even higher. The only thing that could make it better was Dylan’s presence, but he was in Anaheim impressing his own crowd. They closed out the show with “Viva Las Vegas,” and the fans were on their feet. Roses rained onto the ice, and the cast picked them up and waved.

When Lori stepped off and headed for the lockers, the show’s producer, Jeff Spender, took her elbow and pulled her aside. They’d only ever spoken briefly when she first signed on, and she’d seen him around from time to time, but that was it. Now he grinned from ear to ear. “Lorelai, that was incredible. Your best show yet. I knew we were right to hold on to you. I hope you’ll stay with us.”

“I’d be happy to.” She’d sacrifice anything to get back to the Games. The ends justified the means.

Saturday, January 24th

Greensboro Coliseum wasn’t much unlike Las Vegas Arena except it seemed twice as big from ice level looking up at all those seats. That could just be the nerves. Lori had thrown up in the bathroom, but she hadn’t been the only skater emptying her stomach. Maybe it should make her feel better knowing that everyone was anxious, but it didn’t. She hadn’t puked before a performance since she was eight years old. This one just seemed so much more intimidating. Her sponsorship could be riding on it. Her place in the figure skating world sure was. If she wanted to make it to the next Olympics, she had to stay relevant, visible, elite. Not to mention it would be
really
hard to keep Val as a coach if she tanked this program.

Dylan spun her around and held her shoulders and her gaze. “Hey. Focus on me. I’m right here.” His brown eyes were warm and full of sweet emotion that made the bottom drop out of her stomach in an entirely different way. He always seemed to know when she was getting lost inside her own head. Then again, she could judge that about him, too. Thank God he’d been able to make it out. The Sinners didn’t play again until the next day.

“I see you.” She smiled, and that earned one back from him. “Thank you for being here. It means a lot.”

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else. And hey, you did great in the short program on Thursday.”

“I got second.”

“You say second like it’s an STD.”

“What if it’s the end of your season and you finish second in your conference? Are
you
happy?”

He opened his mouth and hesitated then shook his head. “All right. I get it. But you can take first tonight and make up for it. Have I told you how amazing you look?”

He had, but hearing it again and seeing it in the way he scanned her from head to toe brought goose bumps to her arms that had nothing to do with the cool rink or thin material of her shimmering, mostly translucent outfit. “Yes, and thank you.” He was good at the distracting thing. And he was right. She had another chance to take first.

He kissed her nose then searched the crowd on the lower level. “Do you see them?”

By
them
, he meant her family. She wiped her palms on the chiffon skirt of her costume. Like today wasn’t stressful enough. Why not add meeting the parents to the mix? It wasn’t that she thought he didn’t deserve to. As her sole serious adult relationship, Dylan merited a family introduction more than anyone. But it’d be her first time seeing them in a year and her first time introducing them to a boyfriend since her early teens. There was no way to escape the awkward. They’d seemed okay on the phone when she’d given them a heads-up, but it was hard to tell how they really felt. Like always.

“Not yet.”

“Lore!”

Her shoulders jerked up even though the voice was familiar. She turned around just in time to accept a hug from her sister. “Hey, Tori. How’s NYU?”

“Awesome. And so not Goodville, Pennsylvania.”

“Okay, two things.” Dylan stepped forward. “Your parents named you Lori and Tori? And you really grew up in a place called Goodville? Was that like Pleasantville?”

“Victoria.” Tori stepped around to shake his hand. “Lorelai likes to call me Tori even though I beg her not to, but at least it’s better than Vicki. And yes. But that shouldn’t be weird to you. Didn’t you grow up in a tiny Canadian town with more ice ponds than people?”

“
Tori
.”

“No, she’s right.” No offense on his face, just amusement. “You looked me up?”

“My sister’s first boyfriend in years and the NHL’s golden child? I couldn’t resist. And I gotta say, I totally get it.” She gestured between him and Lori with just a hint of jealousy.

I thought we were past this
. Tori had been envious since they were little. They’d both skated, but Lori had always been better. Tori had been a decent skater but never rose past local competitions. Only in recent years had they gotten closer, and it’d been in baby steps.

“Relax, I’m happy for you.” Tori kissed her cheek. “I love my life in New York, and architecture is definitely my calling.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Really glad. Whatever they’d been through growing up, they’d been in it together. It was good to know they still were. “Hey, how’s Andrew?”

“In my rearview, but I’ll fill you in later. Mom and Dad are—”

“Hey, hey. There’s my girl.” Sean Kelly came up behind Tori and stepped around to embrace his other daughter.

“Right behind me,” Tori finished.

Lori hugged her dad and closed her eyes against the rush of guilt for not seeing him for so long. When he let go, her mother was waiting to take his place and fill Lori with another wave of regret. It wasn’t their fault the family had suffered. It was hers. And now she was keeping her distance, hurting them more. “Hey Dad. Hey Mom. I want you to meet Dylan.” The apprehension had turned into gratefulness. Among his many talents was being a good buffer.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kelly. I’m happy to meet you.” He shook each of their hands, and they both looked a little starstruck even though Dylan himself was sweating in his dress shirt and just barely making eye contact. Dylan Cole, who had no problem facing down giant enforcers on the ice, was afraid of her parents.

“Oh, we’re happy to meet you. Lorelai hasn’t mentioned a boy to us, or really anyone, in years. And we’re big fans.”

“
Mooom.”

Dylan laughed. “I’m honored, then. She’s incredible. She inspires me every day.”

Lori’s lips parted as she looked at him, but a response escaped her.
I do?
Wasn’t it the other way around?

He slid an arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. Her mother clasped her hands together against her chest, and her father nodded approvingly. It would be a Hallmark scene if it weren’t so weird. They’d never been an overly touchy-feely family, maybe because they’d always been focused on
the dream
. Who were these people? Maybe it was Dylan. He could draw in just about anyone.

“Lorelai. You’re up first.” Val appeared at her other elbow and nodded to her family. “Good to see you again.”

“Oh, okay. I guess I have to go. I’ll see you all after?”

“You got it, honey. You’ll do great,” from her dad. Nods and similar sentiments from her mom and Tori, and a kiss from Dylan.

She waved as Val spun her around, and they headed for the entrance to the ice. Now or never.

“You’re ready?”

Why’d he have to make it a question? He’d seen her practicing for over a month. Some days they’d train for four hours at a stretch. If he had to ask, maybe she
wasn’t
ready. “Yes.” No other answer was acceptable.

“Good.” Val wasn’t much for encouragement. He had a sharp eye for form and had gotten her to where she was, but if she needed moral support, she’d have to find it somewhere else. The stands were a good place. Signs and banners dotted the crowd saying things like Go Lorelai! and We love Lorelai! Not to mention, she had her own personal cheering section front and center. Dylan was sandwiched between her parents and looked as nervous as she felt, but probably for different reasons.

The announcer welcomed everyone to the Championship Ladies Free Skate, gave a quick description of the event, and before she knew it, called her name. The screams, whistles, and applause rang in her ears and vibrated through her whole body as she skated out and took her place. Tears threatened, but her show face was on, so they had no chance of escape. All the love and excitement flowing at her was unexpected. They really hadn’t forgotten about her or given up on her after the injury.

The music began, the same edgy, monastic rap she’d skated to the first time she’d talked to Dylan. “Free skate” was misleading. She had exactly four minutes, and there were a certain number of jumps allowed in the program. If she went over or under, they’d deduct points. It wasn’t like she’d had much freedom working with the choreographer to put this routine together, and if she didn’t nail it, the judges would nail her. No pressure.

She’d skated this piece so many times and even dreamed about it. Had she forgotten the sequences, muscle memory would have carried her through, but each move was branded in her brain. It flowed smoothly through the first half, and because the music was a bold, funky choice, she kept a playful expression glued to her face. That kind of thing earned points too. The last jump was the only thing weighing her down. They’d saved it for the second half because it’d be worth more then. Waiting until the last second to think about it had seemed like a good idea when she started the routine, but now that the moment was here, the anxiety hit her like a truck. It might not show on the outside, but there was a full-scale panic attack going on inside.

She breathed in through her nose, out through her mouth and tried not to think about the burning in her legs. Even though she spent more consecutive minutes skating in Sin City on Ice, there was a whole cast around her then, plus Bradley flinging her here and there, and it wasn’t as demanding. The exhaustion now was at least 50 percent in her head, but that didn’t make it less real.