color the first time Josh saw me skate, and our exhibition program was about the unlikely journey we’d traveled since that moment. I just hoped when we debuted it Sunday after the competition, it would be a triumphant performance and not a sorrowful one.
“Oh, hell,” Stephanie said as she gazed out the window.
I curved my neck to see the problem and found it in the form of Mr. and Mrs. Tucker on the sidewalk. They’d spotted us and were now entering the restaurant. I prayed for a trap door to open under my feet. Rehashing the short program was not what I felt like doing.
“I tried calling both of you.” Mrs. Tucker eyed Stephanie and Josh as she cast her dark shadow over the table.
“I was dealing with work stuff,” Stephanie said.
Josh offered no explanation. I was sure he’d chosen to ignore his mom’s calls.
“Can you put our tables together?” Mrs. Tucker asked the hostess.
“There’s not much space,” Josh argued, but the hostess had already begun scurrying under Mrs. Tucker’s sharp stare.
The waiter returned to take our dinner orders, and I longed for him to stay. Not because he was good-looking, but so he could distract Mrs. Tucker from bringing up my miscue on the ice. Stephanie helped the cause, laughing and flipping her long, brown hair over her shoulder as she discussed vegan ingredients with him.
“So, fourth place,” Mrs. Tucker said as soon as the waiter left.
“Yes, and looking forward to the free skate,” Josh jumped in with no hesitation. “We’ve already put today behind us, so we don’t need any more discussion on it.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the only attitude you can have right now considering…” She sent me a cool sidelong glance past Josh, who sat between us.
I took a long drink of water and noticed Mr. Tucker typing on his phone as usual. He might’ve been completely out of touch with his family, but I’d take that over his wife’s sudden meddling in our business.
“Are you coming to Sochi with us?” Mrs. Tucker asked Stephanie. “ If we have a reason to go.”
Josh’s hand clenched around his glass, and I touched his thigh under the table.
“I told you I’m not,” Stephanie said. “I can’t take more time away from school and work.”
Mrs. Tucker hummed quietly. “We have a large suite on the sea, so if you change your mind we have plenty of room.”
“What are the dates again?” Mr. Tucker finally put his attention on the humans around him instead of the object in his hand. “Second week of February?”
“The Opening Ceremony is the seventh,” I said before anyone else could answer. I’d memorized all the key dates:
Team Event Short Program — February Sixth
Team Event Free Skate — February Eighth
Pairs Event Short Program — February Eleventh
Pairs Event Free Skate — February Twelfth
Mr. Tucker stared at me for a second as if what I’d said didn’t make sense, and then he turned to Mrs. Tucker. “I have a conference in Napa that weekend.”
She plunked her wine glass down hard. “I told Christy to put the trip on your calendar.”
“I don’t see it.” He scrolled on his phone.
“I’m sure you can skip the conference.”
He looked up, his light eyes solidly fixed on his wife. “No. I can’t.”
“You’ve known all along we would be going to Sochi in February.” Mrs. Tucker’s tone harshened further. “You should’ve checked with me before you booked this conference.”
“Maybe if you actually talked to each other instead of communicating through Dad’s secretary, you wouldn’t have these problems,” Stephanie snapped.
My eyebrows shot up, and I tapped the floor, wishing for that trap door again. Just when I’d thought the dinner couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, I got to sit in the middle of the Tucker Family Bicker Hour.
“You should ask one of your friends to go with you,” Mr. Tucker said.
“One of my friends?” Mrs. Tucker spat out. “You need to be there representing the
“Oh, hell,” Stephanie said as she gazed out the window.
I curved my neck to see the problem and found it in the form of Mr. and Mrs. Tucker on the sidewalk. They’d spotted us and were now entering the restaurant. I prayed for a trap door to open under my feet. Rehashing the short program was not what I felt like doing.
“I tried calling both of you.” Mrs. Tucker eyed Stephanie and Josh as she cast her dark shadow over the table.
“I was dealing with work stuff,” Stephanie said.
Josh offered no explanation. I was sure he’d chosen to ignore his mom’s calls.
“Can you put our tables together?” Mrs. Tucker asked the hostess.
“There’s not much space,” Josh argued, but the hostess had already begun scurrying under Mrs. Tucker’s sharp stare.
The waiter returned to take our dinner orders, and I longed for him to stay. Not because he was good-looking, but so he could distract Mrs. Tucker from bringing up my miscue on the ice. Stephanie helped the cause, laughing and flipping her long, brown hair over her shoulder as she discussed vegan ingredients with him.
“So, fourth place,” Mrs. Tucker said as soon as the waiter left.
“Yes, and looking forward to the free skate,” Josh jumped in with no hesitation. “We’ve already put today behind us, so we don’t need any more discussion on it.”
“Well, I suppose that’s the only attitude you can have right now considering…” She sent me a cool sidelong glance past Josh, who sat between us.
I took a long drink of water and noticed Mr. Tucker typing on his phone as usual. He might’ve been completely out of touch with his family, but I’d take that over his wife’s sudden meddling in our business.
“Are you coming to Sochi with us?” Mrs. Tucker asked Stephanie. “ If we have a reason to go.”
Josh’s hand clenched around his glass, and I touched his thigh under the table.
“I told you I’m not,” Stephanie said. “I can’t take more time away from school and work.”
Mrs. Tucker hummed quietly. “We have a large suite on the sea, so if you change your mind we have plenty of room.”
“What are the dates again?” Mr. Tucker finally put his attention on the humans around him instead of the object in his hand. “Second week of February?”
“The Opening Ceremony is the seventh,” I said before anyone else could answer. I’d memorized all the key dates:
Team Event Short Program — February Sixth
Team Event Free Skate — February Eighth
Pairs Event Short Program — February Eleventh
Pairs Event Free Skate — February Twelfth
Mr. Tucker stared at me for a second as if what I’d said didn’t make sense, and then he turned to Mrs. Tucker. “I have a conference in Napa that weekend.”
She plunked her wine glass down hard. “I told Christy to put the trip on your calendar.”
“I don’t see it.” He scrolled on his phone.
“I’m sure you can skip the conference.”
He looked up, his light eyes solidly fixed on his wife. “No. I can’t.”
“You’ve known all along we would be going to Sochi in February.” Mrs. Tucker’s tone harshened further. “You should’ve checked with me before you booked this conference.”
“Maybe if you actually talked to each other instead of communicating through Dad’s secretary, you wouldn’t have these problems,” Stephanie snapped.
My eyebrows shot up, and I tapped the floor, wishing for that trap door again. Just when I’d thought the dinner couldn’t be any more uncomfortable, I got to sit in the middle of the Tucker Family Bicker Hour.
“You should ask one of your friends to go with you,” Mr. Tucker said.
“One of my friends?” Mrs. Tucker spat out. “You need to be there representing the
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