Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JACKSON
Boston, MA
“So your mom saw the race in Levi,” Dad says as we pull out of the airport and head toward the tunnel that will take us to the interstate. “And the part before the second race, when you and Nate had your foreheads pressed together. It didn’t look like a PT-athlete relationship to her.”
“How mad was she?”
“Oh, she’ll tell you all about it herself. I already took the worst of it, I think. That damn Italian temper of hers.”
He and I agreed it was better if she didn’t know I was training Nate because we didn’t think she needed the extra stress and worry right now. But now I wonder how we thought we’d make it through a whole season without her finding out. It seems stupid that we lied, even if our intentions were good.
“Hmm,” I say, thinking how my mom is like a hurricane—she blows in strong when she’s mad and leaves calm, despite the destruction in her wake.
I used to be the same way, but having to hide so much of what I was feeling after Nate left, and having to face the press so often, has taught me how to tamp down my emotions.
“It’ll blow over. I just wanted you to know before you walk into the house because there’s no way she’s not bringing it up.”
“Thanks.”
“So, care to tell me how Nate ended up on your flight back from Paris?”
Dad had been pretty shocked when Nate and I descended the escalators to baggage claim together. They’d been cordial to each other, but there was a shitload of tension there.
I glance over at Dad. It’s dark in the tunnel, deep beneath the Charles River, and we’re both glowing orange from the lights that line the walls. His eyes are fixed forward—there’s no room for error down here, where the two lanes are narrow and each ends only a foot from the curved concrete walls.
“I’m not sure, but it’s not the first time I’ve ended up on a flight coincidentally seated by one of our athletes.
” I choose my next words carefully. “But on the flight, Nate told me that he did come back to the hospital in France when I was in the ICU. And he told me what you said to him, and why he left.”
My dad’s breath hisses as it exits his lips.
“Yeah, about that . . .” His hands grip the wheel and I can’t help but notice they’re more wrinkled than I remember.
Glancing at his face I notice that it is, too.
His auburn hair and beard are littered with gray which stand out in sharp contrast to the deep copper color I’m used to seeing.
I’m sure the change has been gradual, but I only see my parents a few times a year and I notice the changes more and more with each visit.
“When were you going to tell me, Dad? We don’t keep secrets from each other, remember?
And that is kind of a big one!” My voice cracks and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Knowing that the one person I trust above all others has been lying to me for years has shattered my reality.
In the back of my mind I know he would feel similarly if he knew about my relationship with Marco, but that’s a secret I have to keep to protect Marco and Christian.
I can’t see that Dad had any such reasons for keeping this secret from me.
“I was going to tell you . . .” my dad starts.
“Yeah? When?” I ask when he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Because the time I needed to know this was years ago!” My voice is rising in anger as we exit the airport tunnel into the larger tunnel that runs beneath Boston and will take us to the bridge leading north, out of the city.
He glances over at me quickly, then puts his eyes back on the road. It’s a minute before he says anything and the silence that passes while I wait is not a comfortable one.
“When they brought you out of your medically induced coma,” he says slowly, “Nate was the first person you asked about. When I told you he wasn’t there, do you remember what you said?”
“I had been drugged for days, how would I remember the first conversation I had after coming out of a coma?”
“You told me ‘good.’ That was your first reaction. With no time to think about it, no time to plan your response, your first thought was that you were glad he wasn’t there.”
Dad’s got the Irish storytelling gene, so he’s always embellishing everything. But I can tell, just from the directness of his words, that this is no exaggeration.
“And it never occurred to you that it might have been my pride speaking? Or the drugs?”
“You were so adamant, right then, and in the days and weeks following, that you were better off without Nate. It seemed irresponsible to tell you he’d actually shown up, like it might derail your recovery.”
“And never once in the years since did you think to tell me?” I ask as I gaze out at the nearly empty highway in front of us. We have a long drive to Blackstone, and plenty of time to hash this out before we get home to face my mom.
“What good would it have done? You were doing so well. You finished your doctorate, got your dream job. You and Marco . . . why would I say something that might derail your career and your love life? All for what?”
“Were you afraid that if you said something you might give me false hope? Did you think I was secretly waiting for him to return?”
“Actually, no. You were so adamant about being better off without him, and things were going so well for you. I did think he’d come back to you, but as the years passed I figured I was wrong about that. And I couldn’t imagine that you might want him back after everything. Was I wrong?”
My throat tightens as Dad asks the million dollar question. “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe?”
“So you were hiding your true feelings and pretending like you were glad he was gone?”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice small. “I was so hurt that he left, and betrayed that he never came back. It was easier to hide that rather than to expose it and become the girl everyone pitied.”
“But . . .” my dad says.
“But he did come back,” I fill in. “Only I didn’t know that.
I don’t know what would have happened if you’d told me about the conversation you two had.
Maybe I would have waited around for him.
More likely, I would have gone after him, figured out where he was and tried to work things out.
Either way, knowing that he didn’t throw away our relationship without any clear reason would have made a world of difference. ”
For a few miles Dad doesn’t say anything. I stare out the window as the city turns to suburbs.
“I’ve always tried to do what was best for you,” he says finally.
I think of all the sacrifices he’s made to make sure I could race, including the years where he spent half the year in Europe with me, away from my mom and brother. “I know you have, Dad.”
“I’m sorry if this was the wrong decision on my part. But also, you can’t hide your true feelings and then be mad that I acted based on what you were telling me. If I’d have known how you really felt, I probably would have made a different decision.”
“Fair point,” I tell him. And my conscience nags at me about Marco, and the fact that I’m still lying to him about that. But that’s not my secret to tell, and it’ll be over soon enough anyway. I just have to get that job at Danforth.
“I have an interview on Wednesday morning,” I tell my dad. I share the details that Annie has given me, and how hopeful I am that this might work out.
“Why in the world would you give up your current job to move to New Hampshire?” he asks when I’m done talking. From the tone of his voice and the way he glances over at me, I can tell this isn’t a rhetorical question. He really doesn’t get it.
I roll my eyes and his return to the road. “Dad, Danforth has a nationally ranked D1 ski racing program. It’s a well-known and well-respected school, and this job is technically a promotion.”
“So you’re not leaving your life behind just to be closer to home because of what’s happening with your mom?” The doubt in his voice comes through crystal clear.
“Part of this, of course, is because of Mom. I want to be there for her through whatever comes next. And part of it is that I’ve been on the World Cup circuit for so long that the travel is getting old.
I’m ready to not be on the road two hundred-plus days a year.
And being closer to Blackstone is a big plus too.
I know the mountain has been struggling for a while. I want to do what I can to help.”
“You’re sure this isn’t because of Nate?” His question detonates like he intended.
“I’m not going to lie and say that the idea of not working with him wasn’t part of the initial appeal. But now, I don’t know. I feel like we’re in a better place now that we’ve been honest with each other about why he left and how it affected me.”
Dad pauses, and I can practically see him thinking, choosing his words carefully. “Just, please make this decision independently of Nate.”
“Okay?” I say, not really sure what he means.
“I just want to make sure that you make this choice based on what’s best for you, not because you’re running away from Nate.”
I cough out a laugh. “I’m not running away from Nate.”
You totally are, my conscience reminds me.
“Okay, because there’s a good chance you could still see him if you move back.”
“Because his dad still has the place they bought up at Blackstone? That’s fine.” I shrug.
My dad opens his mouth to say something in response, but then closes it.
“What is it?”
His mouth is firmly set in a frown. “Nothing.”
But it doesn’t feel like nothing.
Blackstone, NH
I sit in my car listening to the voice mail again.
Hey Jackson, it’s Annie. I’m so sorry, but we’re going to need to reschedule your interview. Something came up at the last minute. Someone in HR will probably call you to reschedule down the road.
Probably. Meaning it’s not definite.
I didn’t get the voice mail until I was in the car in my parents’ driveway, leaving for my interview. Now I’m not sure what to do. I call Annie back, but she doesn’t answer.