Chapter 10 #2
Mom’s diagnosis is the confirmation I need that this is the right time to leave my job, but cutting myself off from the National Ski Team feels like severing a limb.
It’s one thing to contemplate it as a future decision, like I was just a few days ago, but entirely another to be ready to implement an immediate change.
But if I need to go home for any reason, I can do that more easily from here if I’m just taking on private PT clients. If I were in Europe or Asia on the World Cup circuit, it would be much harder to get home, and unfair to leave Nate in a situation without a PT.
I ignore the texts that start coming in from Nate, asking where I am and why I left, and snuggle under a blanket.
With the fire blazing, it’s not as cold as I thought it would be.
I should have just slept here last night instead of going to that hotel with Nate.
I don’t know what I was thinking at the time; no mac and cheese is worth this shame and regret.
My phone keeps buzzing with text and phone alerts, so I dump it on my couch and get out my yoga mat and bands.
In the few minutes it takes me to set that up, I’ve got six missed text messages, and a voice mail.
I don’t bother checking them because I don’t want to talk to Nate.
In fact, I don’t want to see him, either.
The only people I really want to see and talk to right now are my parents.
I shoot off a text message to TJ letting him know I’m not feeling well and am going to stay home sick today. Then I turn my phone off.
“You are my favorite friend right now,” I tell Petra when I come out of her bathroom, freshly clean and in a much better mood than when I arrived at her condo.
My yoga session was a frustrating exercise in not being able to control my own mind, and I ended it frustrated at my mediocre workout and my series of questionable choices last night—only to realize that I still didn’t have hot water, so I couldn’t shower.
“Your request was perfectly timed.” Her lips curve into a sly smile.
“Yeah, because it gave you an excuse to get rid of the random guy you brought home last night. I thought you were in Salt Lake City?”
“I was. There was a big corporate dinner I planned for a law firm, and this particular lawyer was pretty cute. We stayed at the bar talking after the dinner. One thing led to another and we ended up back here.”
“He came all the way back to Park City with you?”
She just shrugs like it’s no big deal that a guy came forty-five minutes out of his way like that.
“What’s his name?” I ask, curious to see if she even retained that info.
“Hell if I know. He put his number in my phone and said he’d text me, so I guess I’ll figure it out if he does.”
I can only imagine how many names and numbers are in her phone that she’s not really sure who they belong to. “Your life is awesome. You know that, right?” I tell her. Seriously, Petra gives zero fucks about what anyone thinks of her, and it’s refreshing.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a relationship with someone amazing—something like you have with Marco—but until then, I’m happy to keep taking all these guys on test runs.”
We’re laughing together when my phone starts ringing and without thinking, I groan, “Ugh, it’s probably just Nate calling again.”
Petra raises one perfectly sculpted eyebrow as her head swings toward me and she’s about to say something when I glance at my phone and gasp, unable to mask the surprise.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to take this right now. Can I go in your bedroom? I just need a little privacy.”
She nods, clearly confused about what’s happening here.
“Hey, Annie,” I answer as soon as Petra’s bedroom door closes behind me.
“Hi. I’m wondering if you have a few minutes to talk about this job? Or is it a bad time?”
“Now’s great.”
My mind spins just thinking about this opportunity to get out of training Nate.
Maybe they have something opening soon, rather than at the end of ski season.
That’s not normally how this works, but maybe a PT at Danforth moved or got another job or something.
I mean, it’s Danforth. My alma mater. I’m a veteran of that ski team, it’d be great to be back there and still working with skiers.
And it’s roughly twenty minutes from where my parents live. Maybe this is the answer to my prayers.
“Good. Let me tell you what we have coming up and you can tell me if it sounds like something you’d want to pursue,” Annie says, her words clipped and efficient. “Santana has announced that he’s retiring.”
“What? Are you for real?” I ask. Chris Santana is a legend among men—the head of the athletic trainers and also the trainer for my ski team for the two years I raced at Danforth before leaving to race full time for the National Ski Team.
There was no athlete he couldn’t help through whatever ailed them.
We all idolized him. The man always said he’d never retire, claimed he’d be training our kids when they were in college.
“He knew it was time. He’s still as amazing and talented as ever, but he has a bad knee that makes it hard for him to ski, and he’s got grandkids now. His wife wants him home more often.”
“Oh, wow. I can’t imagine him slowing down,” I say as I pace in Petra’s bedroom. Her queen bed is a tangle of sheets from her visit with the lawyer and I have to continually walk around her lace bra that’s in the middle of the floor where it was no doubt flung at some point last night.
“Santana slow down?” Annie’s laugh is almost a bark. “Yeah, sure. He’s going to finish out this last ski season, and then he says he’s staying home to raise some cows on their farm and play with his grandkids.”
“So you’re looking for someone to replace him starting when?” I clarify.
“We’d like to have his replacement in place in the spring, so there’s some overlapped transition time.”
I feel like I shouldn’t remind her that I only have a few years of experience as a physical therapist—including my year of clinicals at the end of my doctorate program—when she’s talking about a job that would mean supervising an entire team of athletic trainers.
“Those are some big shoes you’re looking to fill,” I say instead.
“No doubt. And I personally think you’d be the perfect person to fill them.”
“Annie, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I’m qualified.” The words are out of my mouth before my brain can stop them.
“Jackson, you’re an alum, a veteran of the race team, an Olympic gold medalist. And you just happen to also have a PhD in physical therapy and several years of experience working for the National Ski Team. Who could be more qualified?”
“Well, when you put it that way . . .” I say, chuckling at myself. “I guess since it’s Santana, I have a bit of impostor syndrome. So, is the job being advertised already?”
“Not yet. I think HR will post it at some point this week. We’d like to then have the candidates on campus for interviews between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”
I think about all the travel for World Cup races between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I let out a sigh that I’m sure she doesn’t miss. Then I remember that I’m planning to leave my job anyway, so I’m not beholden to the World Cup travel schedule.
“That was a big sigh,” she says and I debate whether or not I should tell her I’m leaving my job. Since I don’t know how that will go, and since there’s still a chance I might stay, I opt for explaining the initial sigh.
“That timing may be tricky for me. The World Cup races really pick up right after Thanksgiving. I can check my schedule, I think there’s a couple days in between Lake Louise and Beaver Creek and maybe I could fly in for an interview then.
After that I’ll be in Europe for most of the winter.
” I pause realizing how much I am presuming right now, and I let out a nervous laugh.
“Sorry, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.
” I stop and run my hand over one of Petra’s houseplants, something with big leaves that sits right in front of her large double window.
“You’re really not,” Annie assures me. “And listen, part of why I wanted to chat about this on the phone is because I wanted to tell you that I’ve shared with a very select few key people that you might possibly be interested in this position.
And they are very excited about this possibility.
We’ve all heard that you’re training Nate Davenport now, and could not be more impressed that you’re overcoming your history to work with him.
This shows exactly the kind of dedication to ski racing and a commitment to athletic wellness that we’re looking for.
The ability to set aside personal differences for the good of the team is an imperative quality for our coaching and training staff.
And you’re training a racer with significant medical issues.
This all gives you an edge. Make sure you play that up in your interview if you want the position. ”
It’s like the words are lodged in my throat. I had initially envisioned this job being a way to escape working with Nate, but now it seems like it’s predicated on working with him.
“Okay,” I manage after a few awkward moments of silence. “Thanks so much for the tip.”
“Of course! Having you back here would be amazing. I’ll text you when they post the position so you can apply.”
I thank her and then hang up, staring at my reflection in the gigantic arched mirror that hangs on Petra’s wall.
What have I done to deserve this?
“So, what was that all about?” Petra asks when I come out of her bedroom. “And before you even think about lying to me, just know that I could hear about half of that conversation.” Her arms are folded across her chest, her bright blue eyes boring holes into me.
“Why do you look so mad?” I lean against the doorframe of her bedroom.