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  “Right. None taken.”

  “Then you tell me that you and Dad were Olympic figure skaters? In what alternate universe is that even probable?”

  “Listen, missy, are you going to stop howling and listen?”

  Jenna took a deep breath. “Sorry.” She bit her lip in an attempt to hold back another gale of laugher.

  “Thank you.” Izzy took a deep breath. “I was a pairs’ skater, and quite a good one. But about a year before Nationals, the competition that would send my partner and me to the Olympics, my partner dropped out. Just like that. We’d been skating together for eight years and he just up and decided it wasn’t for him. He wanted to go to a real high school or something. I don’t even remember. I just remember one day we were practicing and all excited, and the next day he cleaned out his locker.”

  “Bastard!”

  “Don’t say bastard, Jenna, it’s foul.”

  “Mom, I’m literally in the car on my way to college. It’s not like I can say, ‘oh fluffy bunnies.’ Mike says I’ll be mocked from one end of the campus to the other.”

  “Unless you’re planning on having a career in the merchant marine, I’d like you to not take your verbal cues from Mikayla.”

  “Fine…”

  “Thank you. Anyway, my parents were frantic.”

  “Oh so you had parents. You weren’t just hatched.”

  “Very funny.”

  “Not funny. Mom, I’ve never known my grandparents. Dad’s parents died like when I was four, and the only relatives I’ve ever known were Uncle Sean and Aunt Adele and Mike. That’s weird. Now you’re telling me you were this huge skater with parents…it’s a little bit much for me to absorb.”

  Well then hang on to your socks, my dear. “Well, I wasn’t hatched. I had parents. I had parents who poured all kinds of money into skating. A fortune, really, when you figure in tutors, traveling, costumes, all that. They were not going to let that huge financial investment go down the tubes, they had to find me a partner.”

  “Is that how you and Dad got together?”

  “He was part of a pairs’ team from Minneapolis that was very, very good. They’d been together for a very long time, and had been to Nationals a couple of times, won it once, in a non-Olympic year. They were getting a little old, for skaters. Dad was twenty six and Serena, that was his partner, she was twenty-five.”

  “Ancient!”

  “For skaters it is. Anyway, everyone figured this would be their last real shot at the Olympics.”

  “Mom, you did not steal someone’s partner!”

  Izzy tried to ignore the look on her daughter’s face. Jenna’s expression resembled too closely the horrified visages of fans when she and Jason first stepped onto the ice. As if I’d broken up a marriage or something. “I did not steal anything. It was a business decision. My father met with Jason and the next thing I knew, we were partners with a lot of work to do.” I always wondered what my father offered Jason to leave Serena and skate with me. It had to have been a king’s ransom.

  Izzy blinked, remembering too well her parents’ final words to her. Yes, they had to have given him everything for a shot at a medal. A shot I gave up in one night.

  “What about his partner?”

  Izzy shook her head. “That was the horrible part. I’d never met her personally, I’d been in a couple competitions with her, but every skater knew her and feared her. She was good. She was very, very good. She also had a reputation for having a vicious temper. I remember people talking about the epic temper tantrums she’d throw if things didn’t go her way.”

  “They were a couple, right? Dad and this Serena?”

  “Certainly in Minnesota, they were. Everyone loved Shipley and Masters. Masters was your dad’s real last name.” Izzy held up her hand to stop Jenna’s inevitable question. “Fans loved to refer to them as a couple.” Izzy shook her head. “Announcers kept pointing to their skating and saying things like ‘That kind of passion on the ice obviously has its roots in their off ice relationship.’ Every time they skated, people talked about how in love they must be.”

  “Was it true?”

  Izzy shrugged. “By the time I met him, your father was certainly not in love with her. His plan, he told me, was to finish that season with her and then end the business relationship quietly.”

  Jenna studied the medals for a moment, as if organizing her thoughts. “So why all the mystery all these years later? Why haven’t I ever met you parents? Why did Dad change his last name?”

  Izzy took a deep breath and gathered herself to continue the story. “Word got out about the split between Jason and Serena, and the feedback from the skating community was not positive for us. Everyone saw Serena as the wounded, abandoned partner, thrown over for a younger model, so to speak. The first time your Dad and I skated together in public, we were booed.”

  “That’s harsh.”

  “No, that’s skating. There’s this romantic notion that skaters have this deep romantic connection, like a marriage. Sometimes that happens, sometimes not. Jason and Serena had had a long relationship, but it was over. The fans just didn’t realize it. And, if that weren’t enough, the two of us were sort of an odd pair.”

  “Why?”

  Izzy smiled. “Jason was ten years older than I.”

  Jenna counted mentally. “Mom, you were sixteen?”

  “I was.”

  Jenna did more counting. “Mom…” she paled.

  “Before you say one more word, let me finish.” Izzy took another deep breath. “We wanted to win Nationals, which was the only way we were getting to the Olympics, because the US could send only one team that year. Jason was a strong partner. We worked very, very hard all those months.”

  “But you were…”

  “Wait. Meanwhile, Serena had a press conference and said she could skate to the Olympics with anyone who wanted to go with her.”

  “That’s gutsy.”

  “In her prime she probably could have skated with a chair and made it. But she was older, and those hours on the ice add up. She had the desire, but she’d lost a step. Jason told me their practices had gotten brutal because she would fall or lag behind and then she’d throw a tantrum.”

  “Did she get a partner?”

  “Oh sure. They did a series of exhibition skates to huge applause. I don’t even remember his name. He was just some guy that looked good in the costume and could toss her. The Twin Cities’ broken hearted darling…that’s what they called her.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “Blech.”

  “I know.”

  “So then when, exactly, did you and Dad…you know…fall in love?”

  Could you call it falling love? Izzy ran her hand through her hair. “I don’t know how it happened exactly. All I wanted was to go to the Olympics. But working together like that…and you know your father, he is…was…a very passionate man with his work.” Izzy closed her eyes. Passionate…and persuasive.

  He could have had any woman he wanted. He chose me. And I was so young, I was flattered, honored. I thought I was in love. But why did he choose me? Why seduce a teenager?

  It was a question Izzy had never been able to answer for herself.

  “Do I really want to hear this?” Jenna put a hand on her arm.

  Izzy shook her head. “Probably not. But, it’s long past the time you should understand your family history.” She wiped tears from her eyes and smiled at Jenna. “Of course I developed a crush on your father. It was natural, I suppose. I was so young; he was the only male I came in contact with on a regular basis. Anyway, two months before Nationals, a few months before I turned seventeen, we made…you.”

  “Ew! Mom!” Jenna covered her ears with her hands in mock horror. “You can’t just spring parental sex on my virginal ears! Ew!”

  In spite of herself, Izzy laughed at her daughter. Jenna inherited Jason’s dark hair and delicate facial features. But in Jenna’s blue eyes and sense of humor Izzy saw her own image. “Sorry to
damage your dainty sensibilities.”

  “How did you manage to skate in your delicate condition?”

  “Not well. Skating is so much about reputation, and we had a lot going against us before we ever stepped onto the ice. Of course Serena spoke to anyone who would listen. She threw accusations at my coach, my parents, at your father. There was such a big age difference between us, some really unseemly rumors started to surface.”

  “Which apparently were true, Mom.”

  “Yes, which apparently were true. Everyone talked about how Serena was going to kick serious ass over us.”

  “Don’t say ‘ass’ mom, it’s vulgar. But seriously, how did you keep it a secret?”

  “I have no idea. I was sick and terrified. So much was riding on us getting to the Olympics. Another four years and I would almost be too old, and your father, of course, would be ancient. The clock was ticking. Nationals were in the Twin Cities that year.”

  “Enemy territory.”

  “It certainly felt that way. I’d never been so scared in my life. I almost didn’t get on the plane in Nashville. But my desire to go to the Olympics was stronger than any fear I had, plus, given the money involved, there was no way my parents were going to let me skip.” Looking at her daughter, Izzy realized that Jenna was wrapped in the story.

  “The first day, with the short program, we did very well, and we were behind Serena and her partner by a tenth of a point. But the crowd was so cold. I was miserable and I think it showed. Serena, well, this was her town, her people. Everyone, including the judges, loved her. The second day of Nationals, the long program, we were ready, or as ready as we could be, since your father and I had never performed our long program for an audience before. That was a long day. The other pairs did really well. The scores were very tight. Then Serena’s turn.” Izzy stared at the ceiling, as if watching the routine there. “My coach never let me watch other teams skate at a competition, so I didn’t see it. The crowd seemed to love them, though. Serena was still one of the very best. Just as he lifted her to do the throw triple loop, something happened. His shoulder snapped or something just as he was throwing her. She landed hard.”

  “Holy crap…I mean, holy carp.”

  Izzy smiled. Something we taught her together, Jason. Using the word ‘carp’ instead of ‘crap.’ All our Southern sensibilities boiled into one word. “Serena was fine, a little bruised, but her partner was really hurt. Oh, and the drama! There she was on one of the biggest figure skating stages, and she threw this monumental tantrum, and stormed off the ice. He just laid there, holding his arm. The paramedics had to help him off.”

  “So much for the Twin Cities’ sweetheart.”

  “The mood in the room changed in that instant. By the time they got the guy off the ice, cleaned things up, the audience was actually really interested in seeing us. You could feel it. All we had to do was skate clean and we’d be fine.”

  “Did you?”

  It was the most perfect moment I’d ever had on the ice. “Oh Jenna, it was beautiful. It was that perfect, perfect moment when two people realize they’re going to do something that will bind them together forever. It was…magic. I didn’t feel sick; we did every step, every element spot on. The crowd got louder and louder and by the end the place was in an uproar. Flowers…people tossed hundreds of flowers on the ice. That was rare for me, you know I’m allergic to most flowers and my fans knew not to throw them after I skated. I suppose the flowers were meant for Serena, but no one threw any after her skate. And after it was over, your dad lifted me in the air and kissed me there on the ice.”

  “Didn’t that shock everyone?”

  “Not in the audience. Skating fans love that romantic storyline, and it wasn’t a super passionate kiss. But our parents, the coaches, and most importantly, the judges raised eyebrows.”

  “So what, then you went to the Olympics?”

  “Well, we won Nationals. But I knew that by the time we got to the Olympics, I would need a maternity costume. It simply wasn’t possible.” Izzy glanced at Jenna, praying her daughter wouldn’t ask the obvious question.

  “You didn’t think about getting an abortion?”

  Jason begged me, my parents begged me to do it. “Sweetie, that simply wasn’t an option for me.”

  “Mom, you gave up your dream…for me?”

  “I don’t think of it that way. I think, at the time, I was certain I’d have you, and then go back to skating. I was just going to take a year off. I was so young; it never really occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to come back. I tried to lay out that plan to everyone.”

  “And?”

  “There was a major fight. My parents demanded I have an abortion. They’d put so much time and money into me…you cannot even imagine. Our coach wasn’t all that excited but at least he was supportive.” Izzy closed her eyes, recalling the how the disappointment in Coach’s eyes hurt her more than any of her parents’ shouting. “Once the US Olympic committee got wind that I was pregnant…it became a legal issue, because I was a minor. Your father…well he faced some pretty stiff charges.”

  “What did you do?”

  “We vanished. We left Nashville, got married, and changed our last name. Dad got a job working in Uncle Sean’s body shop, and that turned out pretty good for him. Skating was done. I couldn’t watch skating for a very long time. We certainly didn’t put skates on until you got older and started going to skating parties.”

  Jenna smiled. “I always thought it was cool that my mom didn’t crash into the walls when we skated. Everyone else’s mom did. Now I know why.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Did you and Dad, did you ever regret…you know…giving it up?”

  Izzy shook her head. “All I have to do it look at you and I do not regret it one bit. I’m so proud of you and I love you. I wouldn’t change a thing if I had to do it again.”

  “So I have a big dramatic family history.” Jenna stared at the medals. “I think I’m glad you told me. I think it explains a lot.”

  A tear welled in Izzy’s eye. “I thought it might.”

  FIVE

  It was late, but after an evening in Serena’s bed, Quinn needed a shower. The hot water stung him like nails, but he didn’t care. More and more his evenings with Serena left him feeling dirty, and scalding water helped cleanse his body and his soul, if only a little.

  Leaning against the shower wall, Quinn closed his eyes and accepted the release the water’s sting gave him as he tried to erase images that ran through his mind, the images that haunted him every day.

  How did I get to this place?

  He knew the answer all too well. He opened his eyes and adjusted the water to make it hotter, wishing he could wash away the images burned into his memory like scars, ugly and red. Red, like the lights of the police cars and the rescue vehicles were that night.

  Has it really been three years?

  It didn’t feel like three years. Standing in the shower, in the upscale apartment paid for by his fame, he felt as lost and as agonized as he had the night Sally died.

  Don’t think about that now. It’s over, it’s past.

  Only it’s really never over, is it? Every time I sleep with Serena, every time I had to go harass that poor bastard Jason, it was all there in front of me.

  Sally was the stereotypical personal assistant. Young, fresh like a new rose, still tightly closed, dew rolling off the bud. Quinn’s stomach churned as her face, so sweet, so trusting, crossed his memory. She’d be twenty-four now, wouldn’t she?

  No, she’d be twenty-two.

  That’s how it started: A simple lie on a job application. A high school graduate, too poor to afford college, looking for a job that would support her and give her a leg up, that’s all it was. Though why such a sweet girl like Sally ever wanted to be a personal assistant to someone like him, Quinn never knew.

  Five years ago, Quinn signed with the Predators, and was the hottest thing in town. His arrival gave a struggling team a shot
of energy, and Quinn capitalized on it by giving great post game interviews. Well, that and a hell of a lot of personal appearances. His appearances started to overwhelm the front office, so they suggested he have a personal assistant, a suggestion the womanizing Quinn relished.

  I would never have touched her. Quinn brushed water away from his face and mentally repeated the mantra he swore to whenever he thought of Sally. Had I known she wasn’t twenty-one, I would never have touched her.

  Even I have boundaries.

  Age, he knew, was about the only boundary he had back then. There wasn’t much female skin that didn’t carry his fingerprints in those early days in Nashville. At thirty-three, after knocking around the NHL for more than a decade, he was finally where he wanted to be. Money, fame, and an endless supply of fans were all his. He was on top of the world, and everyone wanted to be near him, Sally most of all.

  She was twenty-one, her application said. She was twenty-one and very happy to join him on all of his appearances. She was happy to run his little errands, to fetch him coffee, to be his personal attendant. He was the king in her world. It was his god-given right to have her, and she was entirely too willing.

  Looking back, Quinn should have known. He should have read the signs and known that Sally wasn’t quite everything she said she was. But he was drunk with power, drunk with lust, and just plain drunk. Everyone, everywhere, wanted to buy him a drink, and he was quite willing to accept. After all, to refuse would be to offend his adoring public.

  Every night became a party for Quinn, with Sally at his side always ready to drive him home after he’d drunk himself into a stupor. It was Sally who bore his weight as he staggered into his apartment, and it was Sally who eased his shoes off and tucked him into bed with gentle hands.

  It was Quinn who crossed the line.

  Guilt tore through Quinn and he crossed his arms over his stomach to keep from throwing up in the shower. It still makes me sick to think about it…what I remember of it.

  Cloudy images floated in his mind. He remembered so little of that last night, which wasn’t new. He never remembered much when he was drinking. Something as simple as a couple glasses of wine could turn out the lights on his memory, and that night there was far more than a couple glasses of wine.