Frozen Barriers (28 page)

Moisture pools in the corners of my eyes, and I’m glad my arm is covering my face. Crying over my failed relationship will do nothing for my image with this team. It’s bad enough I cross checked my own teammate during the game yesterday over her. Coach will surely bench me for being a pussy if he sees this.

About two hours later, we’re pulling into Portland, Maine. Each of us is given our hotel room assignments and the practice schedule before being released for the night. Early morning skate means none of us would be hitting up the town for an all night binger, not that I would anyway. This isn’t college anymore. This is my job, and we are supposed to keep a level of professionalism when playing for the American Hockey League.

Swiping my keycard in the door to my room, I drag all my gear behind me before tossing it in the corner. Three weeks on the road means a lot of luggage, but after doing this enough times, it becomes routine. I pull my phone from my back pocket to see a text from Courtney from a few hours ago.

Never heard back from E. I really thought she’d text me back. Sorry J. Good luck in your game 2morrow.

Well, that about sums it up. If Emily won’t talk to Courtney, I’ve clearly lost my chance at redemption. Deciding a hot shower might help, I strip off my clothes and head to the bathroom. Stepping into the standard-sized tub that is definitely not meant for anyone over 5’5”, I lean my hands against the wall and drop my head in the scalding heat. After a while, the water begins to cool off, so I turn it off and wrap a towel around myself while I brush my teeth.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I search through my luggage to find my sweatpants to throw on and pull the blankets down on the bed. Plugging in my phone to the charger, I see I have no missed calls. I decide to take a nap before heading out to dinner later with the team. It’s only one in the afternoon here, but I had hardly any sleep last night, and I’ll need to catch up if I’m going to play well during the game tomorrow night.

My phone begins vibrating on the nightstand just as I’m about to fall asleep. Ring. Ring. Ring. Rolling over quickly, I unplug it, not glancing at the screen.
Emily
. Shit! “Emily ?! Em?! Is that you, babe? Please say something.”

“Sorry, sweetie. It’s Mom.” God, I love my mom, but I would much rather hear Emily’s voice right now.

“Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?” I ask in a flat tone as I lie back on the bed.

“Everything’s fine here. Your father is still at work, but wanted me to tell you he says hello, and he’ll take good care of Aspen. The main reason I’m calling is to see how you’re doing. Anything you want to talk to me about?” I knew Dad couldn’t keep the situation with Emily quiet for long. She would have eventually figured out something was wrong. Dad’s poker face sucks. “When did Dad spill the beans?” I ask her.

“Your father didn’t say anything to me, which I will be confronting him about later when he gets home,” she says accusingly.

“Well, if Dad didn’t tell you, how did you find out about Emily and me?” I wonder out loud. There couldn’t be anyone else who knew.

“Emily called here earlier. Jeremy, she told me about yesterday. Sweetie, she’s confused and clearly upset over what happened, but she loves you. Just give her some time to focus on her skating for now. When the two of you get home, then you can see where her feelings are.”

Emily called my mom? Of all the people to call her, Emily would have been the last person I would have suspected. “Not to sound mean, Mom, but why did she call you?”

“Jeremy, you’re a smart man, but when it comes to women, you have absolutely no idea how we operate, do you? Emily called Courtney’s phone and asked for the house number. When I got home a little while ago, she called from Denver. She said she didn’t know who else to call, and she couldn’t talk to her own mother about this, so she hoped I’d be able to offer her some guidance. After she told me everything, I was a little disappointed, but I’ll never judge what you choose to do in your life.”

I suddenly feel as though I’ve lost all control over my emotions, and hot tears trickle down my face. “How do I fix this, Mom? I love her, and she won’t even talk to me. I can’t lose her again, and I feel as though I already have.” Not knowing what the next three weeks will bring us, I’m not sure how I will focus on hockey and not her.

“If you love her like I know you do, you’ll know that a woman’s heart is a fragile thing. Your father didn’t win my heart overnight. He’s mended it plenty of times over the last thirty years, and he’ll tell you love isn’t easy. Do you remember what I taught you kids about what to do if you break something?”

“Own up to it, fix it, and do everything we can to make sure it never happens again.”

“She’ll come around, but you have to allow her time to take it all in. She’s never been in a relationship before. Everything is new for her, and she doesn’t know how to cope with the emotions she experienced yesterday, and Jeremy, you can thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, Mom?”

“For getting Emily to agree to attend the annual Jeremy Page Halloween-Birthday Bash.”

She didn’t. She couldn’t. She insists on having this even now. One of the drawbacks of being born on Halloween is my mom always has a reason to invite people over for a costume party. “Mom, what did you do?”

“All I did was have a long talk with your girlfriend to assure her what she was feeling was completely normal. Once she gets back, I told her I’d be here to talk whenever she needed me. Trust me. She’ll come around, just concentrate on hockey for now. She’ll call if she wants to. If not, you’ll see her on your birthday. Love you, Jeremy.”

“Love you too, Mom, and thanks for talking to Emily. I’ll fix this when I get home. Tell everyone I said hi. Bye.”

I feel at ease after talking to Mom. At least I know my relationship with Emily isn’t a complete loss at the moment. If Mom thinks it’s best if I allow Emily time to figure out everything, then I’ll give her the space. I won’t like it, but I’ll do it. The first thing in making things right will require me to find the team doctor. Grabbing a T-shirt and my sneakers, I make my way to his room at the end of the long hall. As I knock on the door, the team physician opens it to see me standing there.

“Jeremy? What can I do for you?” he asks.

“I need to get some tests run. Can you help?”

I spent much of yesterday afternoon unpacking at the loft in downtown Denver. My mother took off shortly after we arrived, and I haven’t seen her since. That’s fine with me. I needed the time alone in order to call Jeremy’s mother, Grace. When I talked to Courtney earlier, she didn’t let on that she knew what had happened yesterday, but something in her tone told me she had an idea.

When I finally reached Grace, she assured me everything I had been feeling was normal. She suggested I use my time away from Jeremy to think about what I wanted for myself before thinking of him. She knew he’d been relentlessly trying to reach me, and she said his actions with Avery were inexcusable last season, but he’s a man after all, and I need to learn how to control my emotions if I’m ever going to handle a relationship with a guy like him.

I took everything she said to heart. I was glad she decided to talk to me and help me understand what I was going through. My own mother would never have even given me the time of day, let alone advice.

Today, I’m sitting at a high top table, enjoying my morning coffee along the 16
th
Street Mall in downtown. My coaches are scheduled to arrive later today for an afternoon practice at the Pepsi Center. For now, I’m just trying to sort through some emails and social media updates I’ve missed over the past few weeks. My earbuds pump music through my head, keeping my thoughts focused on the task at hand and not on Jeremy. Although, listening to Adele’s
21
album may not be in my best interest. Realizing I still need to call Sue back, I begin dialing her number when a text message shows on my screen.

I talked to my mom and I’m giving you time to think, as hard as that might be. I just wanted to say good luck in your competitions and don’t forget to think about your Halloween costume. Love U-J

Placing my coffee down onto the table, my concentration shifts to the trolleys traveling up and down the street. I know I should text Jeremy back, but Grace was adamant about allowing myself the time to see if after a few weeks I still felt the same way I did two days ago. I’m more confused now than I was then because I’m scared of losing him more than anything.

I call Sue to see what she needed me for, but I’m sent straight to voicemail. That’s odd. She must have a dance class or something this morning. Her voicemail picks up, and as I’m telling her I’ll try to call her back later after my practice, a headline from the
Denver Post
catches my eye on my tablet. It reads “Figure Skating Sweetheart Emily Cameron: Quest for Olympic Gold.” Well, I know where my mother has been since we arrived. She couldn’t resist making me front page news, adding to my already shitty week.
Well, guess what, Mother? Emily Beth Cameron has arrived, and she’s done taking shit!

Packing up my shoulder bag, I make my way back to the loft as fast as my UGGs will let me. Ten minutes later, I’m grabbing my skate bag and security pass and riding the elevator down to the street. Alicia Keys is fueling my fire over the speakers. I glance up at the surrounding mirrors and see a new Emily staring back at me. My mother wants a “Quest for Gold.” She’ll fucking get one!

As I hail a cab outside the building, I tell the driver to take me to the Pepsi Center. Pulling out my phone, I shoot Courtney a quick text.

Tell your mom I said thank you for the advice. It’s already being put to good use. I’ll be in touch.

Then, as my fingers hover over the screen, I see Jeremy’s last text again. I really have to try figuring out things on my own, but I still feel a pang of guilt for how I left things. Before I know it, my fingers are sliding over the screen as I hit
Reply
.

Thank you for the support. I’ve been thinking about “us” too. I’ll talk to you when I get home. <3 U - E

I manage to run about four miles before my scheduled practice with the other top five skaters. Once my coaches arrive, Mother conveniently shows up, wearing her fur coat and Chanel sunglasses to stand watch along the sidelines. Warming up, I skate about four very quick weaved laps around the ice, deliberately making eye contact with her every time I pass.

I hear my name called to the officials’ booth, and I know what’s coming. Official entry information, music selection, and drug testing. Jeremy crosses my mind.
Get your head in the game, Cameron!
Worry about him later. Well, that is unless the test is positive, but until then, focus on sticking it to that conniving witch sitting about fifty feet away right now.

Taking the urine cup to the ladies’ room while being escorted by an official is always a pleasure. We’re figure skaters. Do they really think we want to test positive on a piss test? I know there’s a ton of money involved in these competitions, but test positive once, and your career is done. I’m just hoping that my test doesn’t come back with anything questionable this time either. I have sex with one guy, and I have to deal with this impending question. I finish producing my sample and hand it to the official as I exit the bathroom and make my way back onto the ice.

Everyone has one final run through on their short programs, and when my name is called, I make my way toward center ice and wait for the drums to echo through the arena and Florence’s haunting “Oh oh oh oh” to filter through the speakers
.
Digging my blade in underneath me, I skate with a vengeance. Every arm thrust matches every drumbeat. Every string section my body is tucked tight in a varying degree of spins. Turning, crossing over back toward my next jump sequence, I pass Mother as she watches every movement. I know she’s calculating every point, each deduction. Glaring at her as I pass, anger fuels my desire to bury her once and for all. Setting up for one last triple and landing it perfectly, I skate into my final move, a flying camel into a back sit spin and ending with an abrupt stop from my backward tucked scratch spin.