Life on the Edge (24 page)

All the blood rushed from my head. I gripped the doorknob tighter.

“Mom! What are you doing here?”

She walked past me, rolling a small suitcase behind her. “I don’t have class tomorrow, so I thought I’d surprise you and watch you practice. It’s been so long since I’ve done that.”

I realized my mouth still hung open, so I shut it halfway. “Oh, that’s . . . that’s sweet.”

She sniffed the air. “Did you make pizza? It smells wonderful.”

My mind worked overtime. How could I spin the situation to make it look innocent? I wasn’t ready to drop the big bomb on Mom.

“Yeah, um, I’ve been telling Sergei how good my pizza is, so I made one to show him. He’s on the terrace. We’re going to eat up there.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I realized what Mom would find if she went upstairs–the candlelit table, the bouquet of roses . . .

In a quick babble, I added, “But it’s getting
kinda
chilly out, so we should probably eat down here. There’s plenty enough for all of us.”

“No, it’s such a nice evening. We should eat outside. I don’t get to enjoy this place much anymore.” She smiled and patted the oak banister. “I’m going to go up and say hi to Sergei. Is Aubrey here?”

“She went out with Marley.” I hoped she couldn’t detect the shakiness in my tone. “I’ll get the pizza and we can go up together.”

On the terrace, Sergei had his back to us as he inserted a CD into the disc player. I slid the glass door shut, and he said, “I was getting ready to come look for–”

Turning and seeing Mom, he swallowed. “Hi, Laura.”

U2’s “With or Without You” streamed from the stereo. The love song only added more evidence of a romantic setting.

Mom paused next to the door and took in the scene. Her eyes darted around the terrace before settling on Sergei. She put on a smile, one I instantly identified as insincere.

“Hello, Sergei,” she said.

Normally, he would greet Mom with a kiss on the cheek, but he looked so stunned he didn’t move. I stood motionless with the pizza in my hand, not sure what to say or do next. Thinking quickly, I set the pan on the table.

“Um, Mom, you need something to drink. Why don’t you go down and get whatever you’d like?” I needed to talk to Sergei so we could decide how to best explain the situation.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she said. “I’m not sure where you keep everything.”

That was a lie, so I knew she wanted to corner me downstairs. She walked ahead of me, and I gave Sergei an apologetic frown as I trailed Mom inside.

When we reached the kitchen, I opened the refrigerator and stuck my head behind the door. “We have tea, juice–”

“Look at me, Emily.”

My mother stood small in stature, but she had a powerful voice that commanded attention, and years of delivering classroom lectures had strengthened her tone. I closed the refrigerator door, my sweaty palm sliding down the handle.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” I said in a weak attempt to delay the certain anguish.

“Emily, I’m not stupid. What I saw upstairs was not dinner between a student and her coach or even dinner between friends. It had romantic date written all over it, and I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on.”

Drops of perspiration collected on my forehead, a result of the heat surrounding the oven. “Mom, please promise you’ll hear me out before you start lecturing.”

“I need to hear what you’re going to say before I make any promises.”

I steadied myself against the counter and blurted out in one breath, “Sergei and I are seeing each other. We know there are risks involved, but we have it under control and nothing has changed with my training.”

She inhaled, her nostrils flaring. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since Nationals.”

Her caramel-colored eyes darkened until they were almost black. “So, for two months you’ve been lying.”

A lump formed in my throat. There were few things I hated more than disappointing my parents.

“I wanted to wait and tell you after the season so you could see we’ve been able to make it work.”

“Emily, have you really thought this through? What if he breaks your heart? What will you do then? Would you be able to keep training with him? What does Chris have to say about this?”

Her questions spun around me like a tornado. I chose to answer her last one. “I haven’t told him yet,” I mumbled.

“Huh! Well, at least I’m not the last to know.”

“The only person who knows is Aubrey. We’re keeping it quiet for obvious reasons.”

“So, you’re sneaking around. Is that part of the appeal to you?”

“No, I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish I could tell everyone and have a normal relationship.”

She started toward the stairs. “I need to speak to Sergei about this.”

“Mom, please . . .” I reached out a feeble hand.

“I’m paying this man to teach you, not to seduce you.” She clenched her jaw. “Please tell me you’re not sleeping with him.”

My mouth formed a perfect O. “Mom! You know I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know anything anymore. You’re lying and sneaking around. Who knows what else is going on here.” She threw her hands up in the air.

“You’re blowing this up into way too much.”

“Can you blame me? I’m more than a little concerned. You’ve never had a boyfriend, and suddenly, you’re involved with your coach, a man who’s much older than you–”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s twenty-six. It’s not like he’s forty.”

“And you just turned twenty and don’t have much experience with men. I don’t want to see you taken advantage of.”

“He would never do anything to hurt me,” I insisted.

“You can’t be naïve, Emily. How much do you really know about him? What do you know about his past?”

“I know enough–” I stopped when Sergei stepped into the doorway.

Mom scowled at him. “Emily was just telling me about your relationship. I have a few questions for you.”

I closed my eyes.
Oh, no.

“I understand if you have some concerns, but I want you to know I only have the best intentions,” Sergei said calmly.

“If you had the best intentions, you would’ve kept your hands off my daughter,” she snapped.

I wanted to speak, but utter mortification prevented me from forming any coherent sentences.

Sergei moved next to me. “I had my own doubts about whether we could make this work, but we’ve been able to do it so far.”

Mom folded her arms across her chest and gave him a pointed stare. “Is Emily the first student you’ve dated?”

“Yes, and I didn’t think I ever would. It just kind of . . . happened.”

“What exactly ‘just kind of happened?’ I’d like to know how all of this started.” Mom shifted her scowl back and forth from Sergei to me.

“Maybe it would be better if Sergei left, and just you and I talked,” I suggested. No need to put him through the torture, too.

“No, I’m interested to hear how he thinks this is a good idea.”

I dropped my head in defeat. “Can we at least sit down? It’s sweltering in here.”

Mom led the way to the small den adjacent to the kitchen. She and I sat on the couch, while Sergei perched on my dad’s old leather recliner.

“You said you’ve been dating since Nationals,” Mom said. “I assume something started before then.”

I snuck a glance at Sergei. “We
sorta
knew we had feelings for each other, but we weren’t going to do anything about it.”

“What made you change your mind?” Mom glared at Sergei.

He leaned forward in the chair. “All I can tell you is I love Emily, and I’ll do everything I can to protect her and her career.”

“How do you know your feelings won’t change?” She shifted her inquiry from Sergei to me. “I could ask you the same question. This might seem new and exciting right now, but what happens if it all falls apart? Or if someone in the federation finds out? You’ve worked so hard to get to the Olympics, and you could find yourself in a world of trouble in the most important year of your life.”

“My feelings aren’t going to change,” Sergei said without hesitation.

“You can’t know that for certain,” Mom shot back.

Sergei’s eyes met mine, and I saw the depth of love in them. “I know,” he reiterated.

The hairs on the back of my neck rose, and my lips parted into a smile.

“I’d like to talk to Emily alone now,” Mom declared.

I jerked my head in her direction, shocked at her sudden request, but I didn’t question it. “Okay, I’m
gonna
walk Sergei out.”

“I’m sorry we weren’t up front with you,” Sergei said as he stood. “I’d be happy to talk more whenever you want.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll have more questions,” Mom replied in a biting tone.

Outside, next to Sergei’s car, I said, “I am so sorry. I know that had to be painful.”

“It’s okay.” He wrapped his arms around me. “It could’ve been worse.”

“You should’ve heard some of the things she said before you came down. I can only imagine the earful I’m going to get when I go back inside.”

“Call me later to let me know how it goes.”

“I will. I’m sorry our night got ruined.”

His hands massaged my back. “We’ll have plenty more nights.”

He kissed me, and I momentarily forgot about the evening’s drama. As Sergei climbed into his car, I rolled my knotted neck and steeled myself for the second round of interrogation.

I walked into the house, and Mom came out of the guest bedroom off the foyer. Her mouth was clamped so tight the tiny wrinkles at the corners were more visible than her lips.

“You two looked pretty cozy,” she said.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs. “Were you watching us through the window?”

“Can you blame me for being curious?”

I placed my hands on both sides of my face, forcing myself to stay calm. “I need to get everything we left on the terrace.”

Upstairs, I shut off the stereo and picked up the pizza. Once piping hot and mouth-watering, my culinary creation was now cold and unappealing. I blew out the candles and fingered a rose petal, silently mourning my lost evening with Sergei.

Mom eyed the bouquet. “Those are pretty.”

“Wow, a positive comment,” I said dryly.

“Don’t be smart with me.”

I didn’t say anything else as we cleared the table and made a couple of trips up and down the four flights of stairs. My wish that Mom would tire and forego more discussion didn’t come true. She requested I join her in the living room, where she parked herself on the sofa. I slipped off my wedge heels and tucked my legs under me, trying to get as comfortable as possible. This was not going to be a brief conversation.

“I’m surprised you let Sergei leave so soon,” I said.

“He had such smooth answers for everything. I figured I would get more information out of you without him here.”

I kept that comment to myself and said, “Tell me what else you want to know.”

Mom’s stare bore into me. “I want to know how my smart, independent daughter has gotten herself into such a mess.”

“Mom, come on.”

“Sergei already has so much control over your life with your skating, and now he’s controlling your personal life, too. Making you lie to everyone–”