43. Carmie
Chapter 43
Carmie
T wo Months Later
Sofie flops down into the booth next to me and clinks her wine glass against my water. “O Canada, O Canada,” she sings, but since those are the only words she knows, she keeps saying them over and over.
“You sound like a frog,” Gia says, beaming and leaning forward.
“I do not!” Sofie frowns a bit. “Okay, maybe a little.”
“We all know I’ve got the pipes in the group.” Frannie’s on Gia’s side and has her legs stretched out. She’s glassy-eyed from one too many drinks but grinning like a maniac. Despite her pathetic lack of texting skills, she’s actually drop-dead gorgeous: thick, dark hair, full lips, a nose a surgeon would be jealous of, the sort of body that I’ve had to work for but comes totally naturally to her. Frannie comes across like a goon via phone since she generally hates technology, but she’s brilliant and pretty in person.
“If I have to hear you sing one more Taylor Swift song, I swear—” Gia starts.
“It’s not over yet,” Frannie declares. “The Swift shall rise again!” She raises her drink, spills some of it, and laughs as she drinks down the rest.
Sofie leans her head on my shoulder. She’s the soberest of the group. Small, funny, outgoing Sofie, with a huge personality in opposition to her tiny little frame. “We’re going to get kicked out.”
“Don’t worry, they know me here.” Mostly because Le Chat Noir is one of Lev’s latest Canadian business ventures. “I think we’re good.”
“Speaking of good,” Gia says loudly. She’s scanning the crowd, her dark blonde hair bouncing as she moves up and down in her seat. “Where’s that husband of yours? I thought you said he was going to show up.”
“You scared him off.”
“Ah, come on, we’re not that bad,” Frannie protests. “I’m a delight once you get to know me.”
“You’re all a bunch of terrors,” I say, beaming at them.
“Speaking of terror.” Frannie sits up straight and nods into the crowded bar. “Look at them .” She starts drooling over a group of enormous guys with thick flows, and I’d bet my right hand they’re professional hockey players or something.
“Go easy!” Gia calls as Frannie slips out of the booth, clearly on the hunt. She sighs and follows. “I’d better make sure she doesn’t kill someone.”
Once they’re gone, I wrap an arm around Sofie. She seems really relaxed for once and I love it. Normally, she’s extremely high-strung and bouncing off the walls, but it’s like the second she left Philly behind, suddenly she can calm down a bit.
We chat a bit while the girls are busy flirting with the hockey players. Sofie’s interested in the minutiae of my life in Canada, but there’s really not all that much to tell her. We have a nice apartment in downtown Toronto and split our time between here and Montreal, depending on Lev’s business. He’s got his fingers in a dozen different pies while Alex runs the jewelry store and manages their illicit affairs back home. I have an OB right across the border in America in case anything happens and we want to get back home as fast as possible. And otherwise, it’s a normal life.
As normal as things can be, anyway, when Lev’s involved.
The night continues. Frannie strikes out with her flirtation, mostly because he’s married, and Gia drags her back to the table. They order food, more drinks, and by the time midnight rolls around and I’m exhausted, they’re well and truly drunk.
“There’s the famous husband,” Frannie slurs when Lev finally makes his appearance exactly as planned. I wanted him to stay away and let us have some fun together, but I made him swear he’d show up right around now to make sure we all got home okay so I wasn’t stuck babysitting my drunk friends.
“How’s Canada treating you all?” he asks and his mask is fully in place. That charm oozes off him and I can tell the girls are eating it up. He jokes and teases them as we leave the bar and get into his car, and they’re practically fawning over him when we arrive back at our condo.
Frannie passes out in one of the guest rooms and Gia decides she wants to take a shower. That leaves me alone with Sofie in the living room. Lev makes himself disappear as I turn on the fire and listen to Sofie obsess over the view from the huge windows.
“I know I keep saying this, but you’re sure everything’s good?” She curls up against my side as the gas fireplace heats our feet. “I know you and Lev had a rocky start, but things seem…” She trails off, glancing at me.
“We’re good,” I say, trying not to smile. How am I supposed to explain this to her? “We’re really good.”
“You love him.”
“I love him,” I agree.
She sighs and flops back onto the cushions. “That’s such a relief.”
“I told you that already,” I point out.
“It’s one thing to hear it via text and another to actually see it.”
“Were you worried he had me chained up in a basement or something?”
“Only a little.”
“Well, here I am, fully unchained.”
“And looking good too.” She tilts her head, studying me. “You’re in shape.”
“I better be with the tournament tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be fine, you know that.”
I shrug a little. “I hope so. Been working my butt off.” Which is true—I’ve been training three times a week with a fencing instructor Aline recommended while we’re here and doing my own workouts the other days.
“And the pregnancy?”
“Going about as well as it can now that the morning sickness passed.”
“And his work?”
I shrug slightly. She knows the deal with Lev. Not the details, but his general profession. “So far, so good.”
“You really do have it all.” She grins and pats my knee. “I’m happy for you.”
There’s a crash in the other room and a shriek. I leap to my feet, but Sofie beats me over the back of the couch. We find Frannie glaring down at an alarm clock on the floor, swaying slightly.
“I wanted to get up early,” she explains.
“Okay, you’re done,” Sofie says and waves me off when I try to help. “I got this. You get some sleep.”
I leave the girls to it. Lev’s in our room reading something on his phone and he glances up as I come in and shut the door behind me. His eyebrows raise.
“Should we lock that?” he asks.
“I doubt they’ll come in here.”
“You never know. They’re pretty drunk.”
“Frannie’s hammered.”
“Did you have fun?”
I curl up beside him and snuggle in tight. “A lot of fun. Thanks for letting me do this.”
“Absolutely. I just hope you’re going to be ready for tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be great.”
“They came all the way here to watch me.” I close my eyes, ready to fall asleep in my clothes. “I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“Baby, they came all the way here to see you. They don’t care if you fall over and break your ankle on your first thrust.”
I gently slap his chest. “Don’t say that. Bad luck.”
“You know what I mean. There are zero expectations for tomorrow. All you need to do is go out there, compete, and have fun.”
“You’re good to me.”
“Because you’ve been good for me.” He kisses my hair. “Now let’s get some sleep.”
“Think we can with a drunk Frannie on the loose?”
“I think we’ll manage.”
Nerves jangle in my guts. The gym’s full of people. Multiple different fencing strips are lined up all over with judges watching carefully as the bouts rage all around us. Foil came first, but those are nearly done.
Saber is next. My specialty.
“You’ve got this,” Sofie says, giving me the thumbs-up.
“Go Carmie!” Frannie shouts. I have no clue how that girl seems so chipper and alive considering the state of her last night, but somehow, she manages it.
“Win this shit,” Gia shouts, grinning huge.
I go through my stretching and warm-up routine. Lev is nearby, not saying much. Other competitors are prepping around me, talking strategy with their coaches, going through simple drills to get themselves ready.
Everyone’s younger than me or obviously more experienced.
“I shouldn’t be here,” I murmur to Lev.
“Why do you think that?”
“It’s been so long. What if I embarrass myself?”
“You won’t. You’ve got this.”
“I don’t know.”
“Two-time state champ. Don’t fucking forget who you are.” He grabs my wrist and pulls me toward him, glaring into my eyes. “Where’s that fire, little fencer? Where’s the warrior?”
I feel her inside of me. She’s buried under normal, nervous Carmie right now, but she’s still there waiting for the chance to come out.
I lean in and kiss my husband. “You’re right. I’ve got this.”
“That’s my girl. Fuck her up for me.”
The judge calls my name. My opponent is a few years older, lean and tall. Her mask is on, and I don’t even know her name, but it doesn’t matter. I slip on my gear and walk toward the piste, toward my position and the first bout in a very, very long time. I’m buzzing with the electricity of it, with the anticipation, with the elation.
“Fencers ready?” the judge calls.
I look to the side. The girls are there cheering me on. And Lev is right in the front. He nods, face storming and serious. Fuck her up , he mouths.
“Fencers?” the judge says again. My opponent is already at her place.
I step forward onto the piste, take my stance, and get ready.
“En garde!”