Life on the Edge (35 page)

“Crap,” I muttered.

“We should’ve had the tech mark,” Chris said.

We said all the right things to the media, but on the bus to the hotel, we both stewed quietly. We were World medalists, not the new kids on the scene anymore. I thought that would earn us more respect from the judges. Passing the Canadians for the first time was a positive step, but the Russians remained a big hurdle.

I’d just walked into my room when my cell phone rang, and I smiled when I heard Sergei’s voice.

“I have some good news,” he said.

I stopped in the middle of the room. “He’s awake?”

“He’s still pretty groggy, but he said a few words. He saw I’m here.”

I looked at the ceiling and made the sign of the cross. “That’s the most wonderful news ever.”

“The doctor said he has a long road ahead of him because of the damage to his liver, but he’s more encouraged now.”

“I wish I could be there to give you a big hug.” I folded one arm across my chest, imagining Sergei within my grasp.

“I wish I could’ve been there to give
you
a hug after the short tonight.”

“You saw it?” I fidgeted with my ponytail. “What did you think?”

“I think you nailed it. There was just one thing.”

“I knew there had to be something,” I said with a wry smile.

“I think the performance aspect could’ve been a little better, but the program was close to perfect technically.”

“That’s something we can easily improve next time. When you get home, we’ll do an inspired run-through for you.”

He was quiet, and I thought he might have another critique to give.

“About getting home . . .” He paused. “I have some not so good news. I lost my passport. I don’t know if it fell out of my bag at the airport or in the cab to the hospital. I just realized it today.”

I sank onto the bed. “How long will it take to get a new one?”

“I’ve talked to some people I know with the Russian Skating Federation. They have contacts in the government that can hopefully speed up the process.” He took an audible breath. “But it could be a few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” A jolt of panic shot me to my feet. “Nationals is in less than a month.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it home in time.”

The resolve in Sergei’s voice calmed me for a moment, but then I thought about the possibility of Nationals without him. I’d be solely responsible for Courtney and Mark, who were top contenders for the novice championship. And even though Chris and I were heavy favorites to win our second national title, the pressure and the stakes were higher this year because of the Olympics. Only the first and second place teams would earn spots on the Olympic team.

I filled my lungs with air and exhaled slowly. Worrying wouldn’t help Sergei or me; I needed to step up and give him my own reassurance. “I’ll make sure the kids are one hundred percent prepared.”

“I know you will. I have total confidence in you.”

I sat again on the bed and ran my finger along the seams of the comforter. “I can’t imagine not seeing your face for weeks.”

“I can’t imagine not holding you in my arms for weeks. I miss you so much already.”

An ocean separated us, but Sergei’s raw emotion touched me as if he were standing in front of me. I took another deep breath and steadied my trembling jaw. The judges weren’t going to feel sorry for me because my coach and greatest source of comfort wasn’t around. I had to stay strong and secure or my Olympic dream could be lost with one slip of the blade.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chris raised his glass of water to mine. “Two programs down, one to go.”

We’d followed up our successful short program with a clean long, the first of two required free skates at the Grand Prix Final. Oksana and Denis had also skated another perfect program and maintained their slim lead over us.

I sipped my water and scanned the crowded hotel restaurant. Judges and coaches mingled at the bar, while officials of the various skating federations huddled together over their dinners. The politicking and schmoozing done at competitions was no secret. It was a game that had to be played in order to survive in the sport.

Viktor walked into the room, and I quickly looked away. “I hope he doesn’t see us.”

“I think it’s too late,” Chris said.

He strode up to our table, his hands in his pockets. “Ready for tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Chris said as I nodded.

“It’s a shame Sergei can’t be here. You’ve had a great competition so far.”

I detected no sincerity in his voice. His statement sounded more like an observation than an expression of sympathy.

“Yeah, it’s not the same without him here,” I said.

Viktor’s gray eyes regarded me closely, though I didn’t think I’d said anything questionable. I bent my head and aligned my silverware on the table.

“I’ll be at the bar,” Viktor said. “Enjoy your dinner.”

Chris waited until Viktor left to laugh. “Does that dude ever crack a smile?”

“I’d say he might if we win tomorrow, but I don’t think he cares.”

“Why do you say that?”

I traced a line through the condensation on my water glass. “I’ve heard him make comments about Sergei. Viktor doesn’t give him any credit for how well we’ve done. I think he’s jealous of Sergei’s success.”

“Well, he was the top dog at the rink before Sergei came along and we started winning. He’s probably not his biggest fan, especially since Sergei’s like ten years younger than him and already more successful.”

At the bar across the room, Viktor chatted with one of the Italian judges. The elderly man spoke animatedly with his hands, while Viktor nodded and sipped his drink.

I smoothed the linen napkin in my lap. “I think Viktor jumped at the chance to be here so he could network for himself, not to do Sergei any favors.”

“Let him do whatever he wants.” Chris waved his hand. “As long as he doesn’t mess up our routine.”

I folded my arms and narrowed my gaze toward the bar. We needed Sergei here to talk us up to the judges and sing our praises. I didn’t trust Viktor to promote us in any manner.

****

Sergei’s advice ran in a constant loop in my head as Chris and I strode toward the ice. We’d had a long phone conversation earlier, and Sergei had spouted all his favorite phrases of encouragement. I’d absorbed every word like a sponge.

The Russians had just finished their free skate. We’d been in the tunnel, but a few loud gasps from the audience told me the program had been far from perfect. I circled the ice, warming up my legs and freezing my mind on one thought:

Chris reached for my hand and held me in our starting pose. The music of
The Nutcracker
danced through the air, and we hit each note with flourish and polish. We’d created the program for the Final and had practiced it for one short month, but the music flowed through me as if I’d performed it thousands of times. From the second the program began to the moment it ended, I pushed every edge deeper than I ever had.

As the crowd erupted and Chris threw his arms around me, I instinctively looked toward the boards for Sergei’s reaction. Viktor’s unsmiling face rudely reminded me Sergei wasn’t there.

We settled onto the small bench in the Kiss & Cry, and Chris found the camera. “Hope you saw that one, Sergei!”

A flood of emotion overcame me, and I bit my bottom lip hard to hold back the tears. Chris saw I was about to break down. He hugged me to his side, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

Chris squeezed me even tighter as our scores were read. When the announcer repeated “Six” three times, the American fans shrieked. I kept my eyes peeled to the video board, waiting for the final standings.

“Come on,” I whispered.

Chris and I breathed in harmony together, deep breath in and deep breath out. The blank blue screen on the video board taunted me until finally the rankings appeared. My gaze went to the top of the list.

“YES!” I jumped up and threw my arms in the air.

Chris leapt to his feet and picked me up all in one motion, smothering me in a hug. A roaring ovation pelted my ears, and I could barely hear Chris when he said, “One step closer to history.”

The tears wouldn’t be denied anymore. They poured down my face and onto Chris’s cream-colored shirt. Cheers of “USA!” broke out in the crowd and American flags waved throughout the stands.

All Viktor had to offer in the form of congratulations was a steady clap and “Great job.” Chris and I headed backstage, where we were ushered to the medalists’ press conference. I grabbed a couple of tissues from our team leader and wiped the moisture from my cheeks. To our right sat the second place Russians and to our left the Canadians, winners of the bronze medal. Neither team looked pleased with their results. Oksana wore the sourest expression, maintaining pursed lips while Denis answered all the questions directed to them.

Once the media finished their jobs, we waited in the corridor for the start of the medal ceremony. Viktor took a call on his cell and passed it to me.

“There’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

My heart pounded as I took the phone. “Hello?”

“
Em
, that was amazing.” The pride in Sergei’s voice was crystal clear.

I wandered away from Viktor. Chris followed me, and I faced the wall of the corridor. “Thanks,” I croaked. “It felt really, really good.”

“I can’t even tell you how proud I am of you and Chris. You worked so hard for this. You went after it and didn’t hold back.”

I used my thumb to blot the tears from my eyes. “I kept thinking about what you said . . . to be in the moment.”

Silence came from Sergei’s end, and I covered the receiver so he couldn’t hear my sniffling.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you,” he said.

I shook my head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You’re where you need to be.”

“It was so weird watching on TV. I don’t ever want to do that again.”

“I bet the Russian commentators weren’t too excited we beat Oksana and Denis.”

“They were actually very complimentary of you. And since Oksana and Denis made mistakes, they couldn’t deny you were the best.”

“I’m sure there’ll be people who’ll say we only won because they made mistakes.”

Chris piped up, “They can shove it.”

I smiled and pressed the phone closer to my ear. Sergei’s voice crackled over the static on the line. “You won because you skated three clean programs. You earned it.”

“Was your mom able to watch or did she fall back asleep like last night?”

He let out a deep laugh, a sound I missed more every day we were apart. “She stayed awake this time and was very excited you won. She can’t wait to meet you. I told her you’re even more beautiful in person.”

Warmth spread through me, and my smile grew wider. “I can’t wait to meet her, too. And your dad.”

“Emily! Chris!” one of the event volunteers called. “We’re doing the podium in a minute.”

“I have to go. Will you still be up in about an hour?” I glanced at the clock on the wall and did a quick calculation of the current morning time in Moscow.

“Yeah, I’m too wired to go back to sleep now. I’ll call you in an hour. Go get that gold medal.”

****

In the privacy of my hotel room, Sergei and I talked on the phone until he began yawning every five minutes. I told him to get some rest and let him go. Not tired myself, I flipped on the clock radio and danced around the room as I packed for the flight home the next evening.