Chapter 26
My training begins today for real. Even if I have to train myself. Tomorrow, I’ll start getting up at four thirty so I can get a workout in before school starts. If his parents are going to homeschool him anyway, maybe they’ll let Jonah run with me in the mornings for safety. Or we could just do it anyway. Maybe I should start doing online school again too? That way I can skate during the school day, see if I can pick up some more baby skaters in the afternoon, and work a fast-food job on the weekends. As much as I hate to admit it, Dad is right. Skating is a very expensive sport. If Jonah can get a car dealership to sponsor him without an Olympic medal, surely I can too. Maybe some of the local businesses that have Mom and Dad’s picture on their walls would pitch in. Maybe Mr. Sato’s Wisteria Village Cafe would sponsor me? I’m sure Mack could come up with some kind of fun promotion or fundraiser with them. If I can work my ass off this year, then maybe I’ll be able to save up enough money to cover next season’s expenses.
I’m out on the ice working on deepening my edges when a sudden high-pitched screech punctures the silence of the rink.
“Shh, shh, you’re okay.” Mack pushes Fiona’s stroller into the snack bar. “You just dropped your binkie.”
Fiona’s screams turn into muffled sniffs as Mack pushes the stroller over to Table #1. She falls onto the bench seat and puts her head down on her arms. I skate over to the boards.
“Hey,” I say, and Mack looks up at me. “You look like crap.”
“Yeah, that happens when somebody decides to sprout teeth. I think I’ve gotten maybe two hours of quality sleep in the last three days. Gran, Stuart, and I have tried every trick in the book.”
With that, Fiona spits out her binkie and howls. Mack bends over the table and bangs her head a few times.
“Here, give her to me.” I hold out my hands.
“No way. You’re not going to drop my baby on the ice.”
“I’m going to do a lap with her, not a triple axel. C’mon, trust me.”
Mack unhooks Fiona from her stroller and wraps her tightly in a blanket. “You drop her, and I kill you.”
“As Egg would say, ‘Rule Number One.’”
I tuck Fiona into my chest and take off around the rink in a slow loop. Her wails die down into hiccups. I pick up speed on the second loop and watch her little brown tuft of hair wave in the air current. I rotate her out a little more and the cold air hits her face. Fiona looks up at me and blinks her big blue eyes.
“See, it’s fun, isn’t it?” I say, and Mack snorts at my high-pitched voice. “Look at this big girl skating with her auntie Olivia.”
“Do you have any ibuprofen or something, Auntie?” Mack mocks me. “My head feels ready to explode.”
“Mom has over-the-counter stuff in her office. I know I saw them somewhere in that mess.”
“Be back in a second.”
As soon as Mack’s back is turned, I do a quick spin with Fiona. Her eyes open up wide and her little pink lips pucker into a surprised O. When I do it a second time, she makes the same face. The third time, she squeals with joy.
“We’re going to make you into a figure skater yet,” I whisper as we do another loop with random spins popped in at varying intervals so I can hear Fiona’s laugh echo around the rink. Suddenly, my ice doesn’t feel quite so ragged either.
“Excuse me.” A middle-aged African American man with a clipboard suddenly appears at Table #1. “I’m looking for an Annabelle MacIntosh. I was told she would be meeting me here.”
I skate over to the wall. Before I can say anything, Mack jogs over with an industrial-size bottle of medicine in her hand.
“Are you Mr. Russell?” Mack plops down the bottle and reaches out her hand. I realize that Mack is wearing a dark blue button-down shirt and khaki pants instead of her usual uniform of a GNR T-shirt and jeans, and her hair is pulled up in a bun.
“I am. Do you mind if I take a look around?” Mr. Russell waves his clipboard around a bit. “Take some notes?”
“Sure, go right ahead. If you have any questions, feel free to ask,” Mack says in her best adulting voice.
“Thank you.”
After Mr. Russell is out of earshot, I raise my eyebrow and imitate Mack’s voice. “If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Yeah, I have questions. Who the hell is that? Why is your hair in a bun? And is that … gasp … khaki?”
“Language, Olivia.” Mack nods at Fiona. “He’s some kind of real estate appraiser or something. I don’t know. You’re dad asked me to let him in this morning.” Mack puts her hand on her hip. “Since you are supposed to be at school. And this is my professional look. Sorta.”
“Hey, there are a lot of worse things I could be doing.”
“Very true. Doesn’t ditch day usually require an accomplice, though?”
“You tell me. I’ve given up on trying to be a normal teen.”
“I think so, but I don’t know that from firsthand experience.”
“Really?”
Mack pretends to buff her imaginary halo. “Valedictorian, remember?”
Feeling ignored, Fiona screeches. Mack sighs and stretches her hands out toward me.
“Wait. Watch this.” I skate and spin with Fiona until all three of us are laughing.
“Who knew?”
Mack clears her throat and stands up straight as Mr. Russell walks by on his way to the snack bar. I try a slow sit spin with Fiona. She laughs at first, but when I come back up, her laugh turns into a burp followed by projectile spit-up all over my chest. Mack laughs harder.
“Ms. MacIntosh, could you come over here and answer some questions about this equipment?”
“Yes, sir.” Mack jogs over to the snack bar as Fiona and I come off the ice.
Just as I get the top end cleaned up, Fiona’s bottom end needs a cleaning. Nope. I am not here for that. I take a step back to avoid the stench.
“Thank you.” Mr. Russell shakes Mack’s hand. “I’ll send Mr. Kennedy the results in a day or so. Good luck with selling the rink.”
My stomach drops. I bite my lip to keep from yelling, “What?!?!”
Mack adults Mr. Russell out of the rink with some last-minute pleasantries, but when she comes back to Table #1, she’s gnawing on her lip ring.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were selling the rink?” Mack says, hurt flashing across her blue eyes before she hits the Wall of Stink coming off her daughter. “Oh, wow. Hold that thought.”
“Because up until about one minute ago, I didn’t know we were either.” I slap my skate guards on and dig my phone out of my backpack. “But I’m going to find out.”
While Mack takes care of the diaper situation, I text Dad about the morning. My phone pings a minute later.
Don’t worry about it, Livy. I am just gathering information so we can make an informed decision.
About selling the rink?!?!?!
No, about what our current assets are to offset some of the upcoming debt of Mom’s surgery. You let me worry about it. Also, DON’T mention it to your mother. She has enough on her mind. You and Annabelle keep this info to yourself.