Off Balance: A Memoir (25 page)

My school wasn’t big, so chances were that Tata would spot me pretty quickly after school. I wanted to slip out immediately after the final bell in the hopes that I’d be hidden in the crowd of exiting kids. I’d switched cars after I left home and had my fingers crossed that Tata hadn’t yet discovered that I was driving a forest green Ford Mustang. I kept peeking out the window during the day, each time spotting Tata sitting there in his car. Was he planning to follow me to see where I lived? Did he want to talk to me? Did he want to hurt me? My mind was racing. This was why I obtained the restraining order in the first place, but I couldn’t bring myself to call the police.

When school ended, I did my best to blend in with the crowd and swiftly get to my car. As I pulled out of the school driveway, however, Tata immediately started tailing me. I felt like I was in a low-budget movie as I tried pathetically to lose him without getting into an accident. There was no way I was going to lead him toward my apartment—that had to stay sacred—so I randomly zigzagged through some streets, making quick turns. I realized that Tata wasn’t letting up, so I finally pulled into the parking lot of a
shopping center. I parked in a very publicly visible spot, locked my doors, and waited for Tata.

Tata was capable of a lot of things and I knew to never,
never
underestimate him. I didn’t want a confrontation, but I wasn’t sure what else to do. My stomach was in knots and my adrenaline pumping as Tata pulled beside me and approached my car. I hadn’t spoken to him since I left the courthouse at the close of the trial.

Tata motioned with his huge hands for me to roll down the window. I looked straight at him and shook my head no. He jiggled my car handle and tried to open the door, but I wouldn’t unlock the door, either. We stared at each other through the glass for a minute, then Tata started talking to me, going on and on about how I’d made a big mistake by leaving home, how I’d lost the gym for us, and how he wanted to know where I was living.

“Dominique, open the door,” Tata said in Romanian.

I cracked the window so he could hear me.

“No, Tata, I don’t want to do this. Just leave me alone … please.”

“Why are you doing this, Dominique? You want us to lose everything?” His voice quavered as he spoke; he sounded broken. My guilt overwhelmed me. The next thing I knew, I was climbing out of my car. He told me he wouldn’t hurt me, and for some reason I believed him.

I saw Tata get choked up with emotion as he looked at me. I could see the hurt in his face, but I could also see love … a love that had always been unspoken and buried beneath so much anger, so much drama. Tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t speak and neither could Tata. As he hugged me, I could feel and hear him crying. We sat there, holding each other tightly. It was an honest moment between us, one that I will never forget.

As oddly as the whole encounter started, it ended. Not wanting to ruin the moment, I climbed back into my car and before driving away, I told Tata not to worry about me, that I was okay and safe. I had hoped that maybe this was a new beginning for us.

When I got home, I plopped down on my sofa to let it all soak in. I was lost in thought when I heard loud knocking on my front door.

Oh, my God. Did Tata follow me?
I thought as I slowly crept to the peephole. Three police officers in uniform were peering back at me. I was relieved it wasn’t Tata, but it was still scary. The policemen banged on the door again and said they needed to speak to me right away. I was still trying to settle myself after my encounter with Tata and now this.

“Can we speak to you for a moment?” one of the officers asked, as I showed them inside. I was trying to act like I knew what I was doing, but inside I was scared to death, and I had no idea if I should even be talking to them without an attorney. I didn’t know what this was about, but I’d seen in the movies that people asked for an attorney before talking to the police.

The officers explained to me that they had become aware that Tata had hired a private investigator to follow me and that this hired PI had gone to the police after Tata started talking a bit crazy.
A bit crazy?
I thought, wondering what was crazy by their standards. Apparently, the police were investigating Tata for some serious charges. The PI had become concerned and come to the police after Tata started talking specifically about hiring people to “take out” Brian and Luminita.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d just had this beautiful, hopeful moment with Tata in the parking lot—a possible fresh start—and now they were telling me he was trying to have Luminita and Brian killed. The PI was concerned with Tata’s mental state; he wondered if Tata was losing touch with reality from all the stress his family was under. As part of the subsequent investigation, the PI had started recording his conversations with Tata for the police. I knew Tata was distraught, but I couldn’t imagine him going that far. It was all so bizarre. I wondered if Mama knew about any of this craziness.

The officers wanted more information about my “friend Brian” and my “coach Luminita,” as they had been referred to in the recorded conversations. I told them that Luminita was out of town, I believed in Las Vegas with friends, and that as far as I knew, Brian was in Houston with his family. Brian ended up coming to my apartment to talk to the officers in person. Brian paced the floor as he listened to this story of “contract hits” and private investigators. I remember thinking that Brian looked so much calmer than I did, sipping his Dr Pepper and easily answering the officers’ questions. It made me realize just how much older he was than me.

I was at a loss for words as the officers explained that Tata was only one step away from carrying out his plan. They were just waiting for Tata to make the payment for the hit, and once this “exchange” occurred, they would arrest him. I had been through a lot in my seventeen years, but this was the most insane of all. I was freaked out enough that Tata was following me and waiting outside my school the entire day, but now there was this.

Has Tata gone mad?
I wondered. I just kept thinking back to that moment we had shared in the parking lot. Despite the circumstances, that had probably been our most normal father-daughter experience, with actual shared emotions, actual expressed feelings. This man who was, for better or worse, a part of me and whom I loved was capable of a murder plot? And Brian and Luminita—who had been friends of our family, friends and colleagues of Tata’s, were the targets. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe it. Tata was a big talker who would often shoot his mouth off and make threats that he didn’t intend to carry out. I tried to convince myself that it was all a misunderstanding and someone must have taken Tata seriously when they shouldn’t have. Yet the police sounded so certain, I just didn’t know what to think anymore.

I knew I’d heard it all when the officers suggested that Luminita, Brian, and I leave town immediately and “disappear” for a while. They said it was for our own safety and to make sure we
didn’t jeopardize the case before an arrest was made. I thought the police only said those things on television shows, including their parting line about them letting us know when it was safe to return to Houston. I couldn’t believe this was my life.

“My dad has officially gone crazy!” I gasped once the police officers left.

Brian’s wheels were turning, and he started to make some calls on his cell phone as we sat on my patio trying to figure out where to go. Brian lit up a Marlboro Light and I reached for one, too. I never thought I’d want to smoke a cigarette because I’d always thought it was a disgusting habit. Tata was a big smoker, and I couldn’t stand how he reeked when he’d come in the house from smoking on the porch. Nonetheless, there I was, picking up a Marlboro like I’d smoked my entire life. I figured it would settle my nerves.

Brian just kept shaking his head in disbelief at the thought of Tata putting a hit on him. I know he was in shock, but in typical Brian fashion, he tried to lighten the seriousness of the situation by joking he’d “get a bullet in my ass” if Tata had his way. We laughed, which made the whole scenario that much stranger.

“Where can we go?” I asked. “This isn’t going to look good in the media, either, you know!” The stories of my emancipation and family were still fresh in the newspapers. I was doing everything I could to fly under the radar and avoid more public scrutiny. Meanwhile, Brian was a married man hanging out with a teenage girl. How were we going to “disappear” together without causing more rumors?

We talked for hours, weighing our options, and in the end, we decided to follow the officers’ advice and leave town. Through one of his friends, Brian was able to the get use of a private jet and within twenty-four hours we were flying to the Cayman Islands, where that same friend offered up his vacation condo for free. I didn’t expect to be hiding out on a resort island in a gorgeous
home, but since we had nowhere else to go and all of our expenses were paid, we went.

I was really worried for Tata and kept praying that this whole situation was a misunderstanding—that Tata was just making threats out of anger and that he never intended to actually have anyone killed. Even though I was truly afraid of him and wanted to keep a safe distance, he was still my father, and the last thing I wanted was for him to go to prison. Brian was more understanding of Tata’s behavior than I would have expected and was almost sympathetic to the fact that Tata, like any father, must have felt like he was losing everything and was acting in desperation.

The Cayman Islands looked beautiful, at least from what I could see from the condo windows. It was anything but a vacation. I was miserable and anxious during our stay, too paranoid to leave the condo for fear that I’d be seen by the media. The last thing I needed was to have more tabloid headlines about me vacationing in the Cayman Islands with this older married man. Even amidst the chaos of my life, my moral compass was still intact, and I wasn’t going to ruin Brian’s marriage by letting some misleading headlines get out. Besides, I never viewed Brian in a romantic way at all. I admired his confidence and his charismatic way with people, but he was like an older brother to me and someone I felt I could trust as a friend. Despite Brian’s efforts to make it tolerable in the Cayman Islands, I just didn’t feel comfortable being there, so we packed up after a few days and left.

The police advised us to stay away from Houston for another week, so we decided to go and see Luminita in Las Vegas to explain in person the situation with Tata. We hadn’t talked to her since we left for the Cayman Islands, and aside from telling her to stay away from Houston and lay low for her own safety, we hadn’t given her the specific details about Tata.

It was good to see Luminita, even under the stressful conditions. My life had spiraled out of control so quickly that seeing
her and hearing her voice again made me miss our time together training in the gym and working toward a goal. Gymnastics seemed so far away at this point, like another lifetime, even though it had been only months since I last competed.

Luminita completely flipped out when we gave her the full story. Refusing to hide any longer, she immediately reached for the phone to call Tata to confront him about the “hit.” By making that call, in one fell swoop she exposed our whereabouts and ruined the officers’ case against Tata. Tata and Luminita got into a yelling match. I couldn’t keep track of everything she was saying in Romanian, but she was hysterical and letting Tata have it, again. Inside, I was relieved that this was happening—it meant that whatever his intentions, Tata’s “plan” would not be taking place and there would be no case against him. Contrary to what the police were assuming at the time, I honestly don’t think Tata would have ever gone through with it. I prefer to believe that Tata was just making threats out of anger. Much to my relief, that chaotic episode of my life was over and I wasn’t even contacted by the police after we returned to Houston.

Just before I had become emancipated, Tata and I had signed with a new agent, Janey Miller of Gold Medal Management. Having just joined with us, Janey was taken aback by how suddenly I’d left home and broken away from Tata. I’m sure she was wondering what kind of mess she’d gotten herself into by taking me and all my baggage on as a client, but to her credit, she stood by my side before and after the process, when most of my friends, colleagues, and sponsors had become afraid to touch me with a ten-foot pole. There continued to be some sponsorship and other opportunities on occasion, but not many. I was disappointed with USA Gymnastics for not offering me certain appearances and promotional events
I thought I had rightfully earned. I watched helplessly as those opportunities were passed directly to other gymnasts. Janey saw that I desperately needed all opportunities to support myself, and she worked hard and never gave up on me. Thankfully, I still had my stipend money for making the US National team in 1998 and that $1,000 per month helped me survive that first year on my own.

It was Janey who eventually landed me and Luminita a gymnastics home at the US Olympic Training Center (USOTC) in Colorado Springs in early 1999. I was thankful that the USOTC took a chance on me, allowing me to become the first female gymnast to train there. For almost a year, it was ideal as Luminita and I housed together at the USOTC campus. It gave both of us a safe place to live rent-free, with three meals a day, and a local gym to train in until I figured out a long-term plan. I still wasn’t sure of the direction of my life, but I knew I wanted to continue gymnastics. I just needed to get back on track. I’d put on some weight and was struggling to get back in shape. Finally having freedom, I’d let myself eat everything I wanted, from Big Macs to Dairy Queen whenever I felt the urge during the trial. The mistake of adding alcohol to the mix meant I was taking in more calories than ever before. It was just a matter of time before I blew up. I was depressed from everything that had happened with my family, and I turned to food for comfort. I also went through puberty that same year and parts of my body were beginning to change and expand. Before I even knew it, I’d put on fifteen pounds in a couple of months.