The Summer Games: Out of Bounds (37 page)

Brie groaned and sat back against her seat. “No thanks, I’m good.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me,” I smirked, holding my hand out on the armrest, palm up.

It was a peace offering—one she didn’t take right away. She sighed and glared over at me as if she were at her wit’s end, but I didn’t miss the sparkle in her eyes or the color in her cheeks. She loved our little games just as much as I did, and though we were leaving Rio, we weren’t leaving the magic behind. I wiggled my fingers, bringing her focus back down to my hand, and just before she reached out to lace her fingers through mine, she shot me a sly smile and whispered, “This is going to be a long flight.”

Epilogue

Brie

It was a
sweltering day in Austin and the air conditioning in Erik’s old truck was hardly enough to keep the sweat from collecting on the back of my neck. I leaned forward and aimed the air conditioning vent down toward my chest, trying to keep cool in the August heat. The drive to Lone Star Gymnastics wasn’t more than ten minutes from our house, but in the heat of Texas summer, it felt like forever.

“Are you sure we needed to bring this many cupcakes?” Niklas asked from the passenger seat. I glanced over as he adjusted the two-tier plastic carrying case on his lap. It was my pride and joy. That baby could hold two dozen cupcakes, nearly three if I crammed them in there really tight.

I frowned. “It’s too much isn’t it?”

He laughed and pointed down to the floorboard, where his feet were completely hidden beneath more baked goods—breads, croissants, and cookies, just to name a few. I’d gone a little overboard on baking in the last few days, but I always did when my nerves were getting to me.

“It’s…a lot of food,” he conceded. “But I’m sure everyone will appreciate it.”

I smiled before glancing back to the road. Niklas never pestered me about my stress-baking—not when he found himself on the receiving end of a warm croissant—and for that, I was grateful. He’d traveled to Texas from Sweden a few months earlier, intent on a short vacation, but we’d persuaded him to stay on longer. Our house had plenty of room for him and he was an enjoyable houseguest. He’d helped us build a garden in our backyard and I’d forced him to watch a season of
The Bachelor
with me. (“Why does he not just buy more roses?”) He was supposed to stay until things started to settle down at the gym, but as luck would have it, we were only getting busier and busier, which meant hopefully Niklas would be here to stay.

“You could pass them out to the gymnasts too, no?” he asked, dropping his face so it was right in front of his air vent. I envied him, but I knew our drive wouldn’t last too much longer.

“Exactly. Most of them could use a few carbs anyway,” I said with a wink just as the sign for Lone Star Gymnastics came into view up ahead. The gym was situated about thirty minutes north of Austin, in a perfect spot for gymnasts to commute and train from all over central Texas. When Erik’s father had given him the gym two years earlier, it was in dire need of a makeover, so we’d taken a few months and overhauled the facility from top to bottom, even expanding the footprint to make room for a new men’s training area. By the time we’d finished, it was nearly twice as large as Seattle Flyers, and twice as time-consuming as well.

That day, we were hosting our first competition and the parking lot for the gym was already full. Cars were spilling out onto the road, parked alongside the shoulder and out onto side streets. We’d opened registration for Lone Star’s inaugural meet six months earlier and we’d had three times the amount of gymnasts we’d expected sign up for the competition.

“Wow, the place is full to the brim,” Niklas said, eyeing the cars we passed as I pulled into the gym’s parking lot. “Filip and Sarah should be out front waiting for us. I called to let them know we’d need help unloading everything before we left the house.”

I blushed. Maybe just this time, I actually
had
gone overboard a bit with baking.
I mean, how many cookies can one person bake in a 24-hour period before they had a problem?

I swung Erik’s old clunker of a truck into our designated parking spot and as promised, Erik’s parents were waiting for us out front. Erik’s mom, Sarah, wrapped me up in a tight hug as soon as I hopped out of the driver’s seat. I closed my eyes and let the familiar scent of her shampoo wash over me, calming my nerves.

“I brought way too much food.” I laughed as she pulled back.

“Nonsense,” she insisted with a twinkle in her eye. “Remember last year for Thanksgiving?
That
was too much food. This is different. There are a few hundred people inside who would love a free cookie.” She squeezed my biceps for reassurance. “I promise.”

Erik’s dad stood behind her, waiting for his turn to get to me. I smiled at him over my shoulder, happy to see how healthy he looked. Though he and Erik had endured a trouble-filled decade, he and I shared a special bond and I knew it was partly because of my gymnastics career. He respected my achievements a great deal, and though I’d assumed it would bother Erik, he actually appreciated how well I got along with his parents. We spent a lot of evenings having dinner with them, and though Erik would always be much closer to his grandfather than his dad, it was an arrangement that worked and suited everyone well.

“Will your mom be here today?” Erik’s dad asked after placing a quick kiss on my cheek.

I beamed. “She’s coming a little later on. She just has to work for a few hours this morning.”

“Always working!”

“I know. I know. She just loves her job so much, even when I try to convince her to retire, she won’t listen to me.”

On top of the money I’d earned from the Olympic Committee for winning a handful of medals, I’d signed three different large endorsement deals with Nike, PowerAid, and GK Elite Sportswear after the games. The first thing I’d done after I’d socked most of my earnings away was purchase a modest house for my mom in North Austin, partly because she deserved it more than anyone I knew, and partly because I was selfish and wanted her as close to me as possible. It’d taken a little (okay,
a lot
) of convincing for her to accept the gift, but eventually she’d moved in and cut back her hours. I knew she would never leave her position as a social worker, not when there were so many people who counted on her. She loved being a voice for the less fortunate and I admired her for it.

“Are these white chocolate macadamia cookies?” Erik’s mom asked, sliding her gaze back to Erik’s father.

“Oh? Are they?” I winked at him over her shoulder. “I baked so many I lost track of what they were.”

They were his favorite dessert and I loved to make them for him every now and then.

She hummed in disbelief. “You know he’s supposed to be watching his diet! He has even more of a sweet tooth than Erik.”

“There you are!”

Speak of the devil.

I’d only just handed off the last of the cookies when Erik shouted at me from the front door. I spun around to see him leaning out, holding the door open for guests to walk past him. “You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago!”

I pointed to his grandfather. “Blame him! He was on the phone with
Britta
and I swear they were doing the ‘no you hang up first…no you hang up…’ thing for thirty minutes!”

His grandfather chuckled as he brushed past Erik to get into the gym, though he didn’t deny my claim.

Erik groaned and reached out for me. “Here, the others can bring in the stuff from the truck. Everyone has been asking about you and I’ve been running around like a chicken with my head cut off and…”

I reached for his hand and squeezed it, trying to calm him down. We’d both been stressed about this competition over the last few weeks. I’d assumed competing at the Olympics would be the hardest thing I’d ever do, but that short week in Rio didn’t hold a candle to running my own gym with Erik.

Lone Star Gymnastics was our baby—especially since Erik had sold Seattle Flyers—and though we had a lot of help from my mom and Erik’s family, most of the responsibility still fell on our shoulders. Erik ran most of the day-to-day operations and we both taught the elite level gymnasts, which meant our schedules were erratic and impossible to manage. On a good day, it was overwhelming. On a bad day, it was nearly impossible, but we loved it and craved the intensity of gym life.

I reached out for Erik’s hand and laced my fingers through his as he tugged me into the lobby. The gym was an explosion of sights and sounds. Gymnasts and their families had infiltrated every corner of the space. We’d roped off extra seating to accommodate all the parents and even still, there were sections that were standing room only.

Erik turned to glance down at me and I could feel his excitement as we gripped our hands tighter. I pressed up onto my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
We did it.
The smile that spread across his face was enough to make my heart skip a beat.

“You think you can just come in here and kiss me and I’ll forgive you for being late?”

“That’s what the cookies were for. The kiss was free.” I grinned.

He tilted his head to the side. “Hmm, well if they’re free, I’ll have another.”

I laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “There, now do you forgive me?”

He hummed. “I’m getting there, but you should probably keep going.”

I laughed and shook my head, aware that it wasn’t the time or the place to be making out with my fiancé.

“Later,” I insisted with a wink.

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “That sounds promising.”

“Enough you two!” Erik’s mom said, pushing in between us so we had no choice but to step apart. “Brie, there’s a line of gymnasts half a mile long that are waiting to get a picture and an autograph from you before the competition starts. I suggest you get a move on or you’ll never get to them all in time.”

Before I could reply, she was already pushing and prodding me away from Erik.

I laughed and glanced back at him over my shoulder. “Sorry! Duty calls!”

He smiled, held my gaze as I walked away, and mouthed, “I love you.”

A shiver ran down my spine and I looked down to the flawless princess-cut engagement ring adorning my left hand. He’d given it to me two weeks earlier as we ate breakfast on our front porch. I hadn’t been able to stop looking at it since. The feel of it on my finger was a continual reminder of our love.

My signing table was set up near the side of the gym that wasn’t being used for the competition. When I saw the line spiraling out past the second entrance, I stopped in my tracks, still shocked by the idea that these people were there for me. As soon as I came into view, the girls waiting in line erupted with screams and waves, trying to catch my attention. I smiled and tried to form words, but I was speechless.

Erik’s mom guided me behind the small table where they’d laid out permanent markers and extra photographs. I’d noticed the first girl waiting in line even from a few yards back. She was standing by herself, her knees a little wobbly and her smile less confident than the rest of the gymnasts in line. She had one of my photographs clutched to her chest and it wasn’t until I smiled up at her and asked if she’d like me to sign it that she realized she was supposed to let go of it for a second.

Her leotard was a little faded around the edges, the velvet less vibrant than it should have been. Her bun looked messy, as if she’d done it herself that morning, and when I met her eyes, I could see struggles girls her age didn’t usually have to carry.

“What’s your name?” I asked as I signed her photo.

“Laura.”

I smiled. “Where are you from, Laura?”

“Dove Springs.”

I nodded. “Are you competing today?”

She smiled wide. “Yes. Level six. Last year, I was the level five state champion.”

I arched my brows. “Wow. That’s amazing! And level six?! That’s quick for someone as young as you.”

She beamed with pride.

“Are your parents here today?” Most of the girls in line had adults standing with them, but Laura was alone and I wanted to know why.

Her smile fell, just slightly. “No, my dad had to work. I got to take the bus all by myself.”

I nodded as I handed her back her photo. “You know, my mom had to work during a lot of my competitions too. I bet your dad really wishes he could be here.”

She nodded and her eyes filled with tears near the corners. I could tell she was trying hard not to cry. “That’s why I wanted to meet you,” she continued. “They talked about you on TV during the Olympics, and…your family is a lot like mine.” She swallowed, maybe a little embarrassed to be volunteering so much information to a stranger. Girls behind her in line were impatient to get their turn, but I kept my gaze locked with hers so she wouldn’t feel rushed. For those few seconds, it was just her and me.

“I think you’re going to do really well today, Laura,” I said, standing to round the table so I could wrap her in a tight hug.

She pressed her face to my chest and nodded.

“And maybe one day when your dad doesn’t have work, he could bring you back here for a private lesson?”

She leaned back, eyes wide. “Really?”

I smiled. “Yes, really. Although…you should know, this is a facility where Olympians train. Do you think you could be an Olympian one day?”

Her eyes went wide as saucers and she nodded twice, slowly. “Yes. Absolutely. If you can do it, then so can I.”