The Sloth Zone, page 17
As she bent her knees, the tongue of her skating boot rubbed against the tender skin of her shins and heels. She smiled widely as a blast of icy air numbed her face. Although her feet would ache later, she didn’t care. She was back on the ice.
Warming up with some three turns, counters, brackets, and other footwork, Gemma was relieved that it felt as if she’d never taken any time off. Her blades let out ripping noises as they dug into the ice. Her knees rose and fell onto deep inside and outside edges.
“Looking good, Gem.” Charlie grinned from the ice’s door.
She came to a stop in front of him, breathing heavily. “I missed this so much.”
“I can relate.” He removed his own plastic guards and entered the ice. “When I started pairs again with Frankie, there were no words to express how happy it made me. It was like I’d taken a trip to Disneyland. Everything just felt light and like my feet couldn’t touch the ground.”
“I missed being able to do the simple things. I’ll never take a change of edge for granted again.” She took a sip of water. “Thanks for agreeing to coach me today. I know how valuable your time off is. I really appreciate it.”
“I’m happy to do it. You’re family, and that’s the theme of the day.” He smiled. “What’s your game plan for the session?”
“I don’t want to push myself too hard, but I’d like to have a go at trying out some spins and some of the footwork from my Cinderella program. I want you to watch closely and let me know if I’m doing anything wonky.”
“And by wonky, you mean . . .”
“I want you to call me out if it looks like I’ve changed anything in my spinning technique to compensate for the discomfort in my hip. I don’t want my body to get another injury from modifying the way I’ve skated the last twenty-plus years.”
His eyes widened in understanding. “Got it.”
“If we have time after that, I thought that maybe we could practice some crossovers and other basic partnering skills. When I’m back on tour, DOI management will expect me to start skating with Fernando again as soon as I’m cleared.”
“They don’t give you time to settle in, do they?”
“Theoretically they’re supposed to, but this time of year, everyone’s body is beat up. They need every extra skater they can get.” Gemma sighed. “If you ask Frankie about it, she’ll tell you a couple of crazy stories, like the time we had to learn one of the ensemble numbers between quick changes because management didn’t realize we were short three bodies.”
They skated side by side, chatting and circling the rink. “Eleven or twelve shows a week is so taxing on the body. You guys are like Broadway dancers.”
“We are. I skate and train almost as much as I did when I competed.”
“Have you had any updates on the contract yet?”
“No.” Gemma huffed. “I scheduled a meeting with management as soon as I get back. They don’t have any excuses to make me wait any longer.”
“Are you going to accept it, then? I thought you’d decided to retire.”
“I’m leaning toward retirement, but I don’t want to rule anything out until I’ve had time to have a good think over all the possible paths my future could follow.”
“Good for you, Gem. I’m proud of you.”
Changing the subject, she asked, “How’s your training for the International Prix Championship going? It’s only three weeks away.”
“Frankie and I are ready. It’s been helpful to have Fernando stepping up to coach us via video chat. We’re not making any changes or adjustments to the program. We’re just going to go into the competition like it’s business as usual.”
“Because you two killed it at Skate United States and the Maple Leaf Trophy.”
Charlie puffed out his chest. “We did.”
Gemma shot him a smile. “And what are your plans for afterward? Are you going to spend a little extra time in Japan? A little birdy mentioned there was a chance you two might be jumping across the pond for Christmas?”
“Originally, Frankie thought it might be possible to spend the end of December and first three weeks of January training in the UK in the lead-up to Worlds to spend time with her sister, but in all the excitement, she forgot that we have to skate at Nationals first to even make the team.”
Although it wasn’t public knowledge, Frankie had discovered more than a year ago that she was the biological sister of Clara, the Duchess of Leeds. After being apart for more than twenty-six years, the two sisters were trying their best to make up for lost time. They’d met in person once yet were still in constant communication with one another.
They shared a laugh, coming to a stop. “Oh, Frankie.”
“I had to point out to her that with all the uncertainty about finding a rink and traveling back and forth, we’d be better off training on home ice.” Charlie retrieved his mobile from the front pocket of his black North Face jacket. “Anyway, enough about us. Let’s focus on you. Why don’t you warm up your forward and backward scratch spins? I want to see if I can get the slow-motion feature on this guy to work. It would make life a lot easier to be able to show you what I see.”
“Yes, Mr. C.” Gemma saluted him, then peeled off her outermost jacket, tossed it onto the boards, and adjusted her gloves. “I’ll do the forward scratch first.”
Performing a few back crossovers, Gemma held a long entry edge, then stepped into the spin on the ball of her left foot. Like most skaters, she performed all her jumps and spins counterclockwise. Finding the “sweet spot” of her blade, she pulled her arms and legs tightly into her body. The world blurred. A few seconds later, coming out on two feet lazily, she bent over at the waist, resting her hands on her knees.
“Ugh, I can’t breathe, and I’m dizzy.”
Charlie stopped recording and glided over to her, assisting her to an upright position. “Spins will do that to you.”
“Char . . . lie . . . not . . . helping.”
He chuckled. “Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She shot him a playful glare. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Maybe I am, but that’s what all good coaches do.” She pushed his arm and he glided to the left. “Let’s see how the video turned out, then we can pick it apart.”
Gemma’s expression sobered. “I’m afraid to ask, but what did you see?”
Charlie tapped the screen and held it between them. “Nothing major.” He hit the Play button, and together they watched the video. “Right here, you’re a little wobbly on the entry edge.” He paused it. “And right before you pull in, you’re holding your free leg lower than you used to.”
Gemma stared at the screen. “I am.”
“Gem, considering the time off and nature of your injury, I thought overall, it looked pretty solid. Did anything bother you on it?”
“No. Laybacks and sit spins are the positions that aggravate my hip the most. I had to limit how many I did before my layoff.” She grimaced. “I can get away without doing a layback, but not sit spins. I’ll just have to find the strength to power through them.”
“One of my students had a similar problem as you, but it was an injury to her growth plate. We ended up modifying her sit spins to a broken-leg position. It took a lot of stress off the hip area.” He ran a hand through his hair. “In your case, I think if we played around, we could find a variant of the sit-spin position that’s less painful than a traditional sit. You shouldn’t have to power through anything.”
“I’m willing to give it a go. Only, how does a person do a broken-leg spin?”
“It’s easy; you start like you’re doing a sit spin, but grab the back of your legs, and tilt sideways.”
Gemma was lost. “Can you show me?”
Charlie’s cheeks colored. “Uh . . . I’m not the best person for the job. Maybe I can see if Frankie is around.”
“Oh come on, Charlie. You said it was easy. So show me your broken-leg spin.”
He huffed. “If I show you, you can’t tell anyone how bad it looks.”
Gemma promised she wouldn’t, curiosity piqued.
Stowing his mobile into his jacket pocket, Charlie wound up for a sit spin, and grabbed the back of his calves. His bum stuck up too high, however. As he tried to initiate a sideways lean, he fell over and spun around on his bum like a breakdancer.
Gemma covered her mouth with her hand, giggling. “So that’s what it’s supposed to look like.”
“I told you I was lousy at it.” Charlie stood and brushed the ice off his trousers, muttering, “I have a video of Richelle doing it. You can watch her.”
They spent the next hour figuring out what her body was capable of doing. Gemma was surprised to find that she felt better than she had in weeks. The extended time off was working for her. Her spirits began to lift.
Gripping Charlie’s forearm, she locked eyes with him. He nodded to her. “On your count.”
“Push, cross. Push, cross,” Gemma said as they practiced a series of slow and fast back crossovers around the rink. “Change.” Charlie’s body moved in closer to hers. His hands moved to her hips. Bending her knees, she directed him, “Ready, go.” A moment later, she was up in the air, “sitting” on Charlie’s right hand, waving to an invisible audience. “Down.” Extending her leg, toward the ice, they glided, then stopped.
“How did that feel?”
“So-so.” Gemma took a mental inventory of her body. “It was a bit uncomfortable at first, but only when we left the ice. I’m not used to your grip. I think when I do it with Fernando, I’ll be okay.”
“That’s good. It’s always difficult to skate with a new partner, especially when you’ve learned different techniques. Is there anything else you wanted to run through or try out?”
Gemma shook her head. “No. I’ve kept you long enough today. Let’s pick up our stuff and go meet your family.”
Charlie grinned widely. “Wait until you try Nan’s turkey and stuffing.”
“I’m looking forward to it. I’ve never had any American Thanksgiving foods before.”
“You haven’t?”
“No. The last couple of years, DOI was in Asia or Europe in November. This is the first year we’re in the States.”
They slipped on their jackets and slid their rubber skate guards over the sharpened blades.
“I just have one favor to request of you,” Gemma started. “If I’m asked to try some pumpkin pie, would you mind if it magically appeared on your plate?”
Charlie’s body shook with laughter. “You can always say no, that you don’t want any.”
“I’d hate to be rude. I have a hard time saying no to Suzy.”
“Nan wouldn’t be offended. She’d just offer you an extra serving of cherry or peach cobbler. They’re just as good. We always get them from this place called the Lucky Dog Diner. They make the best pies around.”
* * *
Gemma looked at all the warming dishes sitting on the sideboard. There were fluffy potatoes, marshmallow-topped candied yams, soft veggies, cornbread, jellied cranberries, stuffing, and a massive twenty-five-pound turkey. She scooped a small amount of everything onto her plate.
“I can see why you told me to wear stretchy trousers.” She laughed.
Frankie was focused on lathering her potatoes, turkey, and stuffing with gravy. “Uh-huh. Suzy outdoes herself every year.”
Leaving the serving line, Gemma sat down in the middle of the table that had been set for nine. The men—Mr. T, Tim, Charlie, Leslie’s boyfriend, and their uncle Jack—lingered in the kitchen chatting over drinks as they waited for the space to clear up.
“Stop, Frankie, I can’t take credit for everything. Your father and Charlie did a magnificent job with the turkey, potatoes, and dessert.”
“Charlie did all the cooking. Dad only peeled the potatoes,” Frankie whispered as she sat beside Gemma.
They shared a giggle.
“Gem, what do you think of Thanksgiving so far?” Leslie asked.
She gestured to her plate. “I’m excited to try everything! Turkey is such a welcome change from the foods we eat for Christmas at home. Mum usually makes a roast or a ham.”
Leslie took a seat across from Gemma. “Roast sounds good. Maybe that’s what we should make for Christmas this year, Nan.”
“What do you normally have?” Gemma asked.
“The same spread as Thanksgiving. All this.”
She nodded.
“What are your plans for Christmas, Gem? I meant to ask you earlier. Are you going home?” Frankie poured herself a glass of sparkling apple cider.
“That’s the plan. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my mum and dad. I’m well overdue.” Frankie gestured to her glass. “I’ll take a half glass. Thanks.”
“Is Tim going with you?”
Her cheeks burned. “Yes.”
Excited chatter broke out between Leslie and Frankie.
Locking eyes with Gemma, Suzy cleared her throat. “Rich, Charlie, Tim, Ron, Jack—we’re waiting on you.”
Sheepishly, the lads entered the room, carrying on excitedly about fishing.
Tim walked around the table and took the empty seat next to Gemma.
“Are you sure your parents don’t mind you missing dinner with them tonight?” she whispered.
“No, they understand. We had lunch as our big meal. They’re more excited to meet you in person tomorrow!”
“You’ve already had turkey and all this food?”
“Yes, but that was hours ago.”
She chuckled, counting herself lucky to have a man like him in her life.
* * *
“Does anyone have any room for dessert? Or should we wait an hour and digest?” Suzy asked.
Everyone around the table groaned.
“We don’t have any room left, Nan,” Charlie said.
Frankie poked him in the arm. “And whose fault is that? You didn’t have to eat three helpings!”
“Nan, I’ll go out on a limb and say we should wait.” Leslie stood and started collecting everyone’s plates and utensils. “Does anyone feel up for a nice walk by the lake?”
Frankie, Charlie, Ron, and Jack eagerly agreed.
“No for Rich and me. We want to get a head start on putting away all the leftovers,” Suzy remarked.
“Tim and I are staying behind to help with the washing up,” Gemma said.
“Gem, Tim, you guys are guests. You shouldn’t have to do the dishes,” Frankie told her.
“Oh, I don’t mind, especially since I didn’t cook anything,” Tim said.
“And I don’t want to overdo it after skating this morning.”
Frankie nodded in understanding. Getting up from around the table, everyone helped bring the remaining dishes into the kitchen, then the others left to grab their coats for their walk.
“Suzy, do you mind if I borrow Tim for a few minutes? I need his help with something in the den,” Mr. T said.
“Of course.”
“Come on kiddo.”
Tim and Mr. T exited the room.
“Where would you like me to start?” Gemma asked, staring with wide eyes at the sheer amount of leftovers. There was still so much of everything remaining. “If you wouldn’t mind pulling out some of the Tupperware containers off the top shelf of the cabinet on the right, that would be great.”
Gemma retrieved the requested items, then assisted Suzy with rinsing and loading the dishes and utensils into the dishwasher.
When they’d finished the first stack, Gemma said, “Mr. T and Tim have been gone a long time. Do you think they’re okay?”
“Why don’t you go check on them, dear.”
After Suzy assured her she was indeed fine by herself, Gemma wandered out of the kitchen into the den. The Elvis song “Walks Like an Angel” was playing from the family jukebox. The lights had been dimmed and replaced by the soft glow of twenty candles. Rose petals had been sprinkled around them. The coffee table had been moved out of the center of the room to the side.
“Gemma, I’ve been waiting for you. I think you owe me a dance,” Tim said as he stepped out of the shadows wearing a crisp white dress shirt, skinny tie, and fitted black trousers that reminded Gemma of a man straight out of the 1950s.
Her pulse began to race.
“I think this song was written for you.” He winked.
Wordlessly, a grinning Mr. T snuck out of the room.
Closing the distance between them, Tim placed a hand on hers and led her out into the center of the room. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she gazed into his eyes and swayed side to side in a slow dance. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
“I have?”
She poked him in the chest. “You’re a brilliant dancer.”
“Not really, but thanks for saying so.” He lifted his arm and twirled her. “I have a small confession to make.”
“Oh?” Gemma arched an eyebrow.
“Suzy and Charlie gave me a crash course on how to slow dance.”
Gemma giggled. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“This is the best Thanksgiving I’ve had in a long time.”
“Me too.”
“Gem . . .”
“Mmm . . .” She lifted her head off his chest.
“I know you’re thinking about leaving Dreams on Ice. Would you be open to spending time with me in Scottsdale? Maybe even moving there?”
She stiffened. “You’ve made up your mind?”
“I’m about eighty percent of the way there.” Dropping his hands by his side, he shoved them into his pockets. “This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is being dangled in front of me and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
Considering her next words carefully, she offered, “Only you know how badly you want that job.”
“Gemma, you’re avoiding the question. I know this is a lot to ask of you since we haven’t been together that long, but your answer is important to me.”
“If it would make you happy.”
“That’s exactly what I hoped you’d say.” Tim flashed her a million-watt grin. “I have a trip to Scottsdale lined up next weekend. I haven’t been back in a couple years. There’s a brand-new state-of-the-art facility Mike’s built, and a rehearsal hall, and . . . ”
