Chapter 25
PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT
LYDIA
SIXTEEN WEEKS PREGNANT
“Good!”
My student, Anna, lands perfectly on the outside edge of her blade, gliding backward with her arms outstretched and a wide smile on her face. She’s been trying to nail the axel for nearly an hour, and she finally did it.
“That was perfect. Now, do it again, exactly like that.”
She nods, a mask of raw determination on her face as she skates around in a circle, gaining speed to perform the jump. When she does it perfectly for a second time, I squeal, clapping my hands.
She skates over to where I’m standing at the bench, and I wrap my arms around her.
“That was amazing! You’ve got it down.”
Anna breathes heavily. “I want to keep practicing.”
“Go for it,” I say, waving to the ice.
Her determination reminds me of a younger me, before I lost the love I had for competing and learning new skills.
As much as I love skating, I reached a point where I didn’t love it the way I used to, and I decided to cut ties with competitions and training before I lost the joy the sport brings me.
Now, I get to share the love I have for it with kids and teach them new skills, watching them grow into amazing athletes.
When she does it perfectly three more times, I call it for the day.
“Great job. Next week, we’ll add another element. But you’re doing amazing, Anna.”
“Thank you.” She hugs me again and steps off the ice to where her mom is waiting.
“How did it go today?” Anna’s mom, Kali, asks.
Kali and I used to skate together as kids, throughout high school. We always got along well, encouraging and supporting each other's successes rather than seeing the other as competition.
“Great. She’s a fast learner, a lot like you were,” I say pointedly. “She’s determined and focused. She’ll be ready for regionals in no time, if she wants to compete.”
"Really?" Anna chimes in, a hopeful expression on her face.
"Absolutely." We talk for a few more minutes about a possible program for her to work toward competing in.
Watching my students gain their skills and grow as skaters is my favorite part of my job. I only coach one to two nights a week, but it’s one of the best parts of my week.
When I wave goodbye to Anna and her mom, I head down the hall to the admin hall of the rink, unlocking the door to my office.
It’s a small room, nothing fancy, but I love the little touches I’ve added to it.
Pictures hang on the wall and sit on my desk of me with my friends, with Fletcher, and even with my parents.
The photo of my parents and me stings a bit, but I haven’t had the heart to take it down. I still have hope they’ll come around. I want our relationship to be better, and for my child to have their grandparents, too.
They should be back from Spain by now. I can’t help but wonder if maybe they will call me.
I sit at my desk to finish a few things I didn’t complete earlier, getting lost in the event graphic I’m making.
At the end of the day, when I’m leaving, my phone rings. For a brief moment, a flicker of hope burns within me, but it’s not my mom or dad. It’s Dottie. Which, to be honest, might be better.
“Hey! How are you?” I haven’t talked to her in a while.
To be honest, I’m not sure if Fletcher has told her about the shift in our relationship, and that we’re giving dating a try.
“I’m great. I just wanted to check in and see how you were feeling.”
“Pretty good. I’m not nearly as nauseous or tired anymore, which is definitely a perk.”
“And how have your appointments gone?”
“Good. I really like my doctor. She’s so nice.”
“How are you feeling about everything?” Dottie asks cautiously.
“What do you mean?”
Maybe Fletcher has told her?
“Becoming a mom. It’s a big life change. When I had our oldest, it was a lot. My mom had died the year before, so I was doing a lot of it on my own. Ron was working, and I was a stay-at-home mom. I also struggled with postpartum depression, so it was, overall, a hard time.”
Her words strike me, and a sadness for a young Dottie makes my eyes burn with tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s in the past. We made it through. Talking about these things was taboo back then, but you shouldn't be afraid to ask for help. There are people around you who will drop everything for you.”
As she speaks, I know exactly what I need. “I’ve been worried about what happens when the baby is born. I don’t know how to take care of a baby. My mom”—I swallow the lump in my throat—“My mom was never the loving type, and I’m scared I’m going to mess up.”
“Oh, honey. You will mess up. That’s just part of being a parent. But you’ll learn so much as you go.”
“Fletcher told me I can stay in the apartment, so that’s helpful, but I can’t rely on him for everything. What if he resents me?”
The worry tumbles out of my lips before I can stop it.
“He won’t. Never.”
“The baby is going to be born in the middle of playoffs. How could he not?” Everything I’ve been thinking bubbles to the surface. “I don’t think I can do this alone.”
The line goes quiet before Dottie replies. “Now, you can tell me if I’m overstepping, but would you like me to come spend some time up there once you have the baby?”
A sense of relief washes over my body, bathing me in peace. “Please? I’ll check with Fletcher, but I need you. I need all the help I can get. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You check with Fletcher, and I’ll stay as long as you need, sweetie.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, my muscles relaxing.
“Absolutely. Now, tell me about your latest project at work.”
I appreciate the change in subject, since I was about three seconds from bursting into tears. I tell her all about the new grant I was approved for today, and she lets me talk her ear off about it for the next thirty minutes while I pick up my food and get home.
We hang up the phone just as Fletcher’s game is set to start, since we both will be distracted soon anyway.
At the game, Calvin got into a fight pretty much right away and spent five minutes in the penalty box. Thankfully, the boys were able to keep the other team from scoring on the power play, and Calvin hasn’t picked any more fights.
Yet.