After the men returned to the hotel, Derek and Mark went to bed. Andy sat in the hotel bar with Luke, both of them drinking scotch. They talked over their days at Brookings, and Luke's life in Paris.
"So. Tell me about them."
"Who?"
"Your women."
Luke almost spit out the scotch he had in his mouth. "My women?"
"Come on. Tell me. I know you've been living it up in Paris."
"I haven't, actually. I've been all about my painting."
"That is such bullshit. How come you'll tell Meg but not me?"
Smiling, Luke just tried to sip on his scotch.
"What if I've abandoned my philandering ways?"
"Impossible."
He sighed and leaned back in the armchair, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, and his butt almost at the edge of the seat. Andy sat upright, one ankle crossed over his other knee.
"Alright. There are three girls."
"Of course there are."
"Vittoria is a ceramicist and I met her at a party. Marrianne is a dancer in the Paris ballet. And, Safina is an opera singer. She's understudying at the Paris Opera."
"Three women in high places."
"They're wonderful. Delightful women. Vittoria is talented and serious, Marianne is graceful and charismatic, and Safina is difficult but…charming."
"How did you meet the other two?"
Luke thought back on meeting Marianne and Safina, and smiled. "Safina was a guest at a dinner party that I attended through a friend of Vittoria's, and Marianne I saw dance in the ballet, and knew I had to meet her."
"How delightfully romantic."
"Maybe. They're good friends, really."
"Good friends you sleep with."
"Not at all. I don't sleep with Safina or Marianne. And the relationship with Vittoria is casual. Really. It's friendship. I can't get attached to anyone."
Andy looked down into his glass of scotch, swirling it around a couple times. Then, softly, he asked the question that hung between them.
"Because of Meg?"
Luke waited a long moment before answering, wanting to explain.
"No. Not exactly. It's not because of Meg. It's because now that I've seen the two of you, I don't want anything except…my Meg. Does that make sense?"
"Yes."
"You know, I …I really liked her that day. I did. When we first met. There's just…something about her."
"Yeah. There is."
They had never actually had the conversation. Both of them were treading lightly.
"I just adored her that day. She was everything I thought I was looking for. And for a while I really thought that I had…missed out. That she was everything I wanted but that it was meant to be you- or missed opportunity, or whatever. But…She's not it for me. She's the one for you. Meg's wonderful. She's my closest friend after you."
"But?"
"But she's not what I need. I don't know what it is, but I'm looking for something. My painting is suffering because of it. I keep hitting a roadblock."
Andy's face scrunched up as he regarded his friend. This was the first time he was hearing it. All of Luke's phone calls and e-mails until then had indicated that he was doing well and loving life in Paris.
"What's going on?"
"I don't know. It's just like something's missing. My paintings have been mediocre. I mean, they'll sell well. I have buyers. But the writing is suffering too. Everything seems trite. I haven't kept a thing I've written in two months. I just write and discard."
"Have you told Meg?"
"No. I tell Meg and she'll start worrying and bothering me. Instead I've taken a break. For a little while. I'm hoping that living life up will help."
"And this is the reason for your three women."
"They inspire me in different ways, I suppose. Being with Vittoria makes me feel compelled to work. That can be helpful, occasionally. Safina represents the art, I suppose. She's full of that artistic, intrinsic quality. And Marrianne is sweetness personified. Innocent and delightful. They're my muses."
"You need to get out of Paris."
"Maybe."
"I need you there at Christmas. I need you to be there when I ask her."
"I love her like a sister you know. I want nothing but the best for her."
Andy put his hand on Luke's shoulder. "I know…I do."
"Good…You know, I'm excited to see her skate again in person. It's been a while. Not since last November, at least."
"It's good, Luke. Really good."
"And what about her weight? That's always been such a bone of contention between the two of you."
"I can't stop it. She wins in Torino, she's finished with the sport. The agreement is until the Games. After that, she'll gain it back, or something will change."
"I can't wait to see the house. And proposal. God, Andrew, she'll go nuts."
"That's the plan."
They sat there drinking for a little bit longer, before heading up to the room to get some rest. Mark and Derek had graciously taken one bed and were sleeping when they got there, leaving Andy and Luke free to take the other double bed. They fell asleep almost immediately, the combination of jet lag and scotch too much for them.
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Meg's routine the next day was no different than usual. She woke and went for a run with Pavel, then showered and did meditation. At the hair salon, she waited patiently for her make up and hair to be put in place, and then made her way to the arena, where she stretched and warmed up.
Since she had stood second the previous year, and was still ranked near the top of the list thanks to the points from Nationals and the Concert of Europe, she was scheduled to go near the end.
She waited with Pavel, stretching and meditating, occasionally riding the stationary bike. The other skaters milled about, each of them in their own world. Amilee stood almost entirely at an old ballet warm up bar, going over the motions of warm up. Somewhere in the complex, Lissa was also going through her routine, quietly and in complete seclusion.
Eventually, Meg got dressed in the skating costume, and applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Her make-up had held, as had her hair, and she eagerly waited for her turn to skate.
She was supposed to be fourth to the end, followed by Amilee, Lissa and Francesca, from Italy. It was so easy for Meg to forget that her two best friends were two of the best figure skaters in the whole world. That the three of them were considered to be the best girls in the world, with just a handful of others.
Meg's own ability at skating seemed to be almost outside of her life. Before the move to Seattle, people had lauded her abilities. She had been one of the favorites to win Nationals, as well as the Championships and there was a lot of talk about her medaling at the Olympics.
Of course, after the move, people had started talking in a different way. They said something was wrong, that she had decided to quit ice skating, that she couldn't possibly make a comeback. Meg wasn't sure she had ever done anything that would necessitate her making a comeback; she had won the last competition she'd entered before her move to Seattle, and she had been number two in the world when she'd moved.
Hardly the pits of despair.
"I need you to get my back."
Pavel nodded, and helped Meg to do a backbend. When she was a perfect U, he helped her to walk nearer he feet, and ran his hands along the muscles on her stomach to loosen them.
Then he helped her up, and raised her hands above her head to help the circulation.
"Alright. Shoes on."
Meg sat on a bench and Pavel laced up her skates, then put the flatbeds on.
"How do you feel."
"I feel wonderful. I love this short skate."
"Good. I'm glad. You've worked hard."
Ten minutes later, Meg got onto the ice for her warm up lap. She had five minutes of ice time with everyone else, and another two by herself because she was up next.
The arena in Copenhagen was enormous, and for show purposes, used the dark lighting with a spotlight. The crowd applauded as she took the ice, and she gave a quick wave of acknowledgement. She got used to the feel of the ice, and took a practice lap along with all the other skaters. Meg prepared and did her first triple combination, then the second one, and the third. All three had perfect landings and Meg felt good as she quickly practiced one of her footwork combinations.
Amilee whizzed by in an outfit of pure gold, which set off her blonde locks beautifully. Lissa was wearing a celery green halter styled costume, with rhinestones at the bust and around the neck. Francesca the Lovely was wearing an orange costume, and Meg thought bitterly that only an Italian could pull off the gown like that.
At the Italian Nationals competition, Francesca had beat Lissa by just a few tenths of a point, and Meg knew that Lissa was eager to kick the other Italian girls' ass. Meg had absolutely no relationship with Francesca; they had competed against each other for years, but Francesca didn't train in Zurich, and spent little time in Moscow, so they had never really had opportunity to get to know each other.
Eventually, all the skaters left the ice but Meg, and she continued to lap and do little footwork combinations. The announcer gave her introduction in Danish, then English.
"Now, introducing Margaret Shepherd, Champion of the American Nationals, Silver Medalist at Last Years World Championships."
She extended her arms as she did another lap, for the benefit of the crowd.
They cheered and she looked at Pavel, who nodded his head. At that point, everything else ceased to matter, and Meg simply focused on her routine.
She posed and waited for the music to start, and began her opening footwork combination. Once again, she was right with her music. The trick was for her to always be slightly ahead of her music, because then she appeared to be right with it.
The first footwork combination went well. Meg just had to get over that for her to take confidence in the piece, and she excitedly went through the choreography. It was fun, the can-can. More fun than she had experienced on any other short program piece. Because of the music and the challenging choreography, it was always fun for her to do for a crowd.
She prepped for the triple-lutz, and landed it perfectly, with enough speed to get good air on her axle, and the toe loop. Meg absolutely loved the feeling that she got coming out of a perfect jump; when she got just the right angle and speed and the music was with her. It made her feel on top of the world.
The second footwork combination went well. She didn't hesitate at all, just let her instinct guide her, and her feet didn't trip up. Her split jump had a lot of air, and her double crossed lance looked beautiful. Meg threw herself into the footwork combination; the long one that took her almost from one end of the rink to the other. It was in time with the music, and she eagerly prepared for her second jump, the axle-lutz-Salchow combination.
Her angle was too steep for the axle landing, but she dug deep and launched off the ground for the lutz. Coming out of the Salchow, however, she felt it.
The tiniest wobble of her ankle.
Meg felt her heart drop into her stomach as the fear radiated up her leg. Her bad ankle had cost her the championships last year. She couldn't afford a screw up now.
As she went into more footwork, she assessed the situation. It wasn't paining, and it wasn't hurt; she just knew that there was something wrong with it, and the last set of jumps were going to be bad.
The most important thing was to get through it. She ignored everything about her ankle and went through all her choreography, before finally setting up the last combination. The worst thing she could do was to putt an excess amount of pressure, so she sped up and took the jumps as fast as possible. The Salchow was first, and she winced as she felt her ankle tighten, followed by a triple flip, and finally the lutz.
It was on the lutz that she nearly lost it, feeling her whole leg dip a little too deep. Instead, she threw her outside leg around faster than usual so that the pressure was off the ankle.
It was sore. That much was obvious; throbbing inside her skates.
She finished in her layback spin, concentrating on keeping her form, and doing the best she could.
When the music stopped, she was right there with it, ending her spin right on the beat. Everyone started to clap, and she quickly turned to bow, using her other leg to bend. She didn't even see the faces in the crowd as she skated to the edge of the rink, where Pavel was waiting.
Standing there, Pavel kissed her forehead and then her cheeks. He picked her up as one would a child and walked with her to the kiss and cry. The camera flashes went off as the photographers took a flurry of pictures. It looked like an intimate picture of a coach and skater, just happy for a good performance, but Meg knew better. Pavel had seen what had happened.
They sat on the kiss and cry bench, unaware of the flashes from photographers or the stadium full of people.
"What happened?"
His voice was low, a whisper by her ear.
"I don't know. I felt it in the first Salchow."
"Can you feel anything."
Meg tried to move her toes. "I don't think it's too bad. But it hurts. A little."
"We'll look at it as soon as we're away. I don't want the press."
"I know."
They waited for her scores. The 54.3 had been awarded for her starting value, which was expected. Meg bit her lip as she waited for her technical execution score. Finally, it flashed on the big scoreboard.
44.3
Ouch.
Her face showed her disappointment, but she quickly changed it to a grin for the crowd. A 44.3 was low, especially after her 46.7 at the US Nationals. Meg had been expecting something in the 45 range. She was pissed.
"Come on."
She waved at the crowd once more, and followed Pavel off the podium, to the backstage area. Once she was there, Robby suddenly appeared, amongst the thirty or so skaters waiting in the hallway and warm up rooms.
"Hey Sweeting. Give us a hug."
He swept her up into a hug and before she knew it had swung her onto his back, piggy back style. Meg was so startled she hung on as he held her knees and began walking with Pavel.
Robby had been standing with Pavel to watch the performance so of course he would know. And, knowing that it was important that the matter was kept quiet, he was treating her as he usually would in front of all the other skaters, pretending to be carrying her for fun.
In the dressing room, he put her down, and unlaced her skates. He hadn't yet skated, and was dressed in his black pants and blue silk shirt short program outfit. As the reigning World Championships Champion and number 1 in the world on the men's tour, he would be last.
Pavel felt all over her ankle, asking Meg questions and rolling it around. She could read his face; it wasn't good. Not broken or fractured, but there was an uneasiness about him that made Meg scared.
She kicked them both out of the dressing room so that she could have one of the aide's help her change. She put as little pressure on her ankle as possible, and quickly put on her jeans and sweatshirt. Then, she threw everything into her athletics bag and got Robby to help her again. She held onto his back while Pavel took the bag, and they went to the stadium exit, where there was a car waiting. Robby kissed her cheek, then went back inside to do his warm up.
At the hotel, Pavel carried her into the lobby and elevator, then to her room. He deposited Meg into the shower, along with a change of clothes, then left so she could undress and shower quickly.
She emerged from the bathroom wearing tiny shorts and a longsleeved sleeping t-shirt. Pavel already had everything ready, so she crawled to the middle of the bed, where the pillows had been arranged so she could comfortably sit up. She curled one leg Indian style, and extended the other over the blanket. Pavel wrapped an icepack around her ankle and then wrapped a towel around it, setting a timer for fifteen minutes.
Meg just sighed and leaned against the pillows as she flipped on the tv.
"I can't believe this.
"Don't worry. It could still be skatable."
She looked at him seriously. "Pavel, it hurts. Not unbearably so, but it's sore."
"Let's hope it's just inflamed and the muscles irritated. We can get the swelling down- it's definitely starting to swell more."
Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes with one hand. "Why now? God. I knew it. I knew it. I could feel it, right on the axle, I knew the landing was too deep."
"You can't always have the perfect angle. You have an injury. There's nothing to be done about that but take care of it."
"It's over. I've lost the Championships."
"You don't know that."
"This is last year all over again."
Meg had held out hope at the arena, but seeing her ankle in the shower had depleted that notion. It was red and swollen and looked generally unhappy.
"Stop it. I mean it. We ice and heat this tonight, and you know it could be better by tomorrow, let alone by the time you skate on Sunday."
Meg just looked like she was about to cry. Pavel sighed uncomfortably and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"What would make you feel better?
"Elderflower Cordial."
Groaning, Pavel got off the bed. "Fine. But don't blame me when you can't sleep."
He left to go downstairs, and Meg smiled a little bit. Elderflower Cordial was a Danish soft drink like liquid that was mostly sugar. It was an extremely rare treat for her, and she usually allowed herself to have one every time she was in Copenhagen.
Flipping channels, Meg smiled when she found a re-run of Friends, dubbed in Danish. She watched it, and accepted the Elderflower Cordial when Pavel returned. He took the ice pack off her ankle, and wrapped a heat pad instead.
"Flex for me."
She flexed her foot, then pointed at his command. Pavel rubbed the bones in her foot that connected to her ankle, and lightly petted her swollen ankle.
"We'll know tomorrow."
He was being exceptionally calm, but Meg understood. If she couldn't compete in the second round of the championships, then it was a blow, to be sure. It wasn't devastating for Pavel, however, because she would have ample time to heal whatever injury she had and practice before the Olympics in February.
He sat in an armchair playing with something on his blackberry while Meg watched the Friends episode though she scowled the entire time. About forty-five minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and Pavel opened it to let her family in.
Derek, Mark and Luke were alarmed and surprised to see Meg laid up in bed looking injured, but Andy's eyes went sad. He'd sensed something was wrong; had wondered why Pavel had carried her to the kiss and cry, and been suspicious at her general behavior.
"What happened?"
"I don't know. My ankle just…rolled, I think. During my landing." She gave a sad little laugh. "Too bad Callie isn't here."
Pavel cleared his throat. "We ice and heat tonight. Tomorrow we'll see the doctor first thing. It's possible she could still skate. Perhaps it's just an inflamed muscle."
"Or perhaps it's a sprain."
Andy studied Meg carefully, trying to figure out her attitude. She seemed resigned and disappointed, but there were no tears. A tantrum could be on the horizon.
Meg saw Andy's cautious appraisal of her and narrowed her eyes, glaring at him.
"Yes?"
"Ah…nothing."
Luke sank onto the right side of the bed and wrapped an arm around Meg.
"What do you want to do? Watch a movie? I know you have that ridiculous case carrying every movie ever made."
"Will you all watch with me?"
They all made some sort of affirmative response except Pavel, who left them to their movie watching after giving them instructions for her ankle.
"Okay. I want to watch Sleeping Beauty."
Mark looked sick while Derek appeared thoughtful, wondering how long it had been since he'd seen an animated movie. Luke opened his mouth as if to argue, while Andy went to get the case.
"Are you sure, sweetie? You have all those…action movies?"
Meg smiled at him, sugary sweet. "If you'd all rather, we could watch Titanic. Or Gone With the Wind."
"I love Sleeping Beauty."
"Disney rocks."
"Disney princesses are hot."
The responses came all at once, and she looked at them with distaste while Andy put the movie in.
Derek sank into the Armchair, while Mark climbed in on Meg's other side. Once the movie was in, Andy sat on the floor against the bed. He had his timer set so that he could put the ice pack on, and would alternate ice and heat every fifteen minutes.
Once the movie started, Derek and Luke actually turned their attention to it. Mark was asleep in fifteen minutes, snoring quietly. Meg elbowed him sharply in the side, and he groaned as he sat himself up some more. Gathering her into his arms, he slowly rubbed her neck and upper back, while Andy continued to attend to her ankle.
Meg had always loved Sleeping Beauty. The music was delightful, and the songs were sweet. Halfway through, Pavel came back to the room with food for everyone, including a big sandwich for Meg.
"Oh, so now that my ankle is ruined I'm allowed to eat."
Andy shot her a disapproving glare. "Maggie, cut the attitude."
The door opened again, and Robby walked in with Amilee and Lissa. Both of the girls had their make up, but all three were dressed back in street clothes. Both of the girls immediately began clucking over Meg as Andy paused the movie, and Robby sat next to him on the foot of the bed. Lissa perched herself on the side of the giant bed, a few inches from Luke, while Amilee plopped herself on Mark.
"Ooof. For someone so petite you certainly weight a lot."
"It's my density. How's the ankle?"
"It's probably okay. I'm most likely making a big fuss for no reason at all."
"You can never be too careful."
Meg smiled at her friend, and then surveyed Lissa and Robby. "How did it go?"
Lissa gave a so-so shrug, but Robby grinned. "What can I say? I'm the master."
It was true. Robby was an excellent skater. He was expected to take the gold at Torino, if he did what he was capable of doing. It sometimes made Meg sick, how good he was.
"I'm fine. Pavel wants my ankle iced and heated tonight, before we go to the doctor tomorrow."
"Well, there's not much else you can do."
"No. So don't stay here with me because I'm mopey and focused on my Disney movie. Go entertain that gorgeous boyfriend of yours."
Lissa blushed, because Amando had indeed come with her to Copenhagen, along with her family. Their relationship had become serious and stable, since he had flown to see her in the Concert of Europe, and Meg was happy for her friend.
"I don't want to leave you!"
"Lissa, get out. For real."
She kissed Meg's cheek, and stood up to leave. Robby looked unsure, and Meg shot him a look.
"Robby?"
He looked a bit sheepish, but grinned at her. "Nothing."
Robby had been pursuing one of the pairs' skaters for the last few months, and Meg knew that the Dannish girl had agreed to go out with him after the short programs.
"Don't be an idiot. Go on."
"I'm not leaving you here with your ankle in pieces and your crazy family and that blonde thing."
"My ankle is fine. Go have fun with her."
He winked and kissed her forehead, then dropped a kiss on Amilee's as well, and shook hands with Andy before leaving the hotel room. Andy put the movie back on, and they all settled in, Amilee remaining in Mark's lap. As the Disney movie continued, Andy alternated heat and cold on her ankle, taking excellent care of her.
When it had finished, Amilee said goodnight, and went to her own room, while Derek, Mark and Luke went downstairs for a drink. Andy put the lights off again, and carried her into the bathroom so she could get ready for bed. When she got back into the bed, he helped her to put one leg on top of the blanket, the ankle on a pillow and covered her leg with a coverlet so she wouldn't be cold. Then, he set his phone alarm to vibrate every half hour, and climbed into bed with her, holding the phone under his pillow.
Meg dropped off immediately, but Andy got up every thirty minutes to change her ice and heat packs. She woke up once, in the middle of the night as he was getting back into the bed.
"Andy…you don't have to keep doing it."
He just kissed her neck and pulled her closer. "Of course I do."
"Get some sleep."
Andy just smiled sadly. "I like doing it. I haven't always been able to."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Go to sleep, babe. You need to rest."
She was exhausted, so she easily followed his command, and he quickly followed her into dreamland, until his phone buzzed in his hand thirty minutes later.
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The World Championships Long Program, 1 year earlier.
She sat on the bench in one of the fluorescently lit hallways, absolutely sobbing. Pavel knelt on the floor, her skate propped on his lap. He was trying to calm her down, as was Robby, sitting next to her on the bench with his arms around her. Neither of them were having any luck.
"I don't know what happened."
"Meg, calm down. It's going to be fine."
"NO. NO it's not going to be fine. Did you see me? I practically fell on my ass out there."
"But you didn't."
"I two footed the landing."
Robby started to say something again, but she just cried harder. "It's over. There's no way that my score is going to beat Amilee. I was so close! I hate this stupid ankle. And nationals last week."
She was crying so hard she was having trouble breathing, and Robby looked at Pavel worriedly as he rubbed her back. Pavel unlaced her skate, and gingerly took it off her foot. Immediately, both men winced, and Meg just turned her face into Robby's neck as the tears poured out. Her ankle was swollen and purple, with something clearly wrong with it.
"Maybe it's just a bad sprain."
But the coach shook his head. "Fracture. If it's not broken."
She gasped at that, hiccupping and crying and looking an absolute mess. Robby kissed the crown of her head, but Meg couldn't stop herself from crying.
"What about the podium?"
"One of the aids will have to carry her. Or we skip and go straight to hospital."
They looked at each other, trying to decide, then looked at Meg. "No. I want to get my medal. Can somebody carry me?"
Pavel nodded, and immediately went to arrange it. Meg looked sad for a moment longer, then looked at Robby. I need my make up bag. I look like shit, I'm sure."
"I don't think you need to worry about that right now-"
"I want my make up bag."
Not wanting to be responsible for making her more upset, Robby dutifully went to get her make up bag, while Meg hastily wiped off her cheeks. When he had the bag back to her, she put on some base and tried to redo her eye make up. By the time that Amilee had finished skating, she looked somewhat presentable as the scores came up. It was several points higher than Meg's, putting the blonde in first place. Meg's score had been high enough after the short programme to put her in first place, so her lower scores had been enough to keep her in the top four. Lackluster performances by Francesca, Lissa and some German girl had been enough to keep her in second place behind Amilee.
She supposed that a silver was better than no medal at all.
They set up the blocks for the medals ceremony, and she sat on a bench in the kiss and cry area. Amilee tried to say something and hug her, but Meg just shook off the gesture. They both knew it wasn't because Amilee had placed first, and because of the ankle.
They had to carry her onto the ice and one of the aids even carried her on the podium, bridal style. She waved her flowers in the air and smiled, but there were tears running down her face.
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