Chapter 42 2011
Sometimes, as much as we want something, it’s not our destiny.
Mother’s text came a week after I landed the triple axel and three days after Christmas. I believe she timed it that way. Holidays were important to her, and I imagine, in her mind, she was doing me a favor by waiting to send the message.
Since I’d gotten my iPhone several months earlier, she’d made a habit of texting me a few times a month. The texts were typically straightforward and to the point.
I will be traveling this week to London. If you need anything call Profe. The lord be with you.
A week later:
I’ve retained a new lawyer. Attached is his contact information. Grace and peace to you in the name of Jesus Christ.
And on Christmas:
May the miracle of His birth bring you hope and joy. I saw your semester report card and was pleased to see how well you did. You always have been smart. Have a blessed Christmas.
And then the final text I received three days later:
Unfortunately the markets have not recovered which means I can no longer afford the tuition for your school. You will finish out the year then return home and Profe will resume home schooling you. The lord be with us.
I was stunned, then dismayed, then angry.
As soon as I read it, I went to talk to Meryl. The coaches lived in “Officers’ Row,” a block of two-story townhomes at the edge of campus. I’d never been to her home. Students were discouraged from bothering the coaches when they weren’t working.
It was early evening, and she answered the door in black leggings and an oversize gray sweatshirt. Her blond hair was tied up sloppily on her head, and I got the impression I’d caught her after a workout.
“Patch!” she said in surprise, then, noticing my expression, ushered me inside.
The house was beautiful—light and bright with large colorful paintings of flowers on the walls. The television was on. Friends played silently on the screen. And on the coffee table was a place mat with a half-eaten plate of grilled fish and green beans.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I told her about Mother’s text.
“I’ll talk to her,” she said, her expression tight.
My chin quivered as I fought back tears. “She won’t change her mind,” I said, knowing once Mother made up her mind about things, it was nearly impossible to change it.
“I can be very persuasive,” Meryl said. “I’ve spent too many hours freezing my toosh off training you to have your mother snatch you away the moment I’m about to unveil you to the world.” She smiled reassuringly. “I’ll fix this. I promise. You’re not going anywhere.”
That was when I lost it, tears streaming down my face and my shoulders hiccuping with hope I was afraid to have, desperately wanting to believe her while also knowing Meryl had likely met her match.
Meryl tried. She did everything in her power to persuade Mother to allow me to stay. She called. She emailed. She texted. After their first conversation, Mother blocked Meryl’s number. The emails and texts went unanswered.
Which was why, despite having mastered the triple axel, devastatingly, I was again passed over for Worlds, my future too uncertain.
And which was why, when summer came, with no other choice, I packed my bags, and with a teary goodbye to Esma, Heinrich, Botan, and Meryl, after five years in Prague, I left my dreams behind and boarded a plane back to Minnesota.