Frozen Barriers (37 page)

After Grace helped us console Sue, she went back upstairs to make dinner for us. She said she’d make it healthy for not only me, but also for Babykins. Grace caught Sue pigging out on hot dogs, sour cream and onion chips, and orange juice the other day. Safe to say, she was not thrilled with the cravings. I’ve witnessed Sue’s food consumption and nearly threw up.

A short time later, we are all upstairs in the dining room eating grilled chicken with a pineapple-mango salsa and Caribbean rice. Nothing is over the top in this house. Simple works for everyone, and I love everything about it.

Jeremy finally returns and finds us in the kitchen helping clean up as Grace and Travis go on to bed. I am standing over the sink, scrubbing the area down when I feel his hands wrap around my waist behind me. “I’ve missed you this week,” he says against the back of my neck.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I say, turning in his arms before placing a more than affectionate kiss on his lips. Courtney looks our way, catching us in the middle of Jeremy fondling places he probably shouldn’t be in his parents’ house.

“Oh my God! Would you two go do that in your own place? I mean, hello, family here!” Courtney mutters as she walks toward the bathroom. Both of us laugh, and once the kitchen is clean enough, we head back to the garage apartment.

Once at Jeremy’s place, I grab a water bottle from the fridge and head to sit on the sofa. He pulls my legs over his thighs as he sits next to me. “I probably won’t see you again before you leave for Paris, so I want to make sure that this time apart will not be spent like the last.” He eyes me with a flat look.

“Well, unless you have another one of your harems visiting tonight, I think we ought to be good.” I laugh at my attempt to lighten the mood.

“Not funny,” he cautions with a stern face.

“Sorry,” I say as I play with my hair nervously.

Jeremy and I go over our schedules for the next week. He has practice and two more home games over the weekend. As usual, I have routine practices once I arrive in Paris, followed by my short and long program. We determine it will be best not to contact each other outside of a quick email or text. Focus is key this week. I need this win to secure myself the top-ranking position in US Figure Skating.

His Monarchs season is going really well. From what he tells me, they have the most points in the Eastern League, and Jeremy has been named the AHL defensive player of the week this week. I’m really trying to learn his sport the best I can. I am picking up a few things here and there, but when your main focus is participating in the Olympics, there are a lot of things that get lost in the shuffle.

We say our goodbyes as if we are not going to see each other for a very long time. “It’s only five days, Emily. By the time you’re in Paris, you’ll already be ready to head home. When you return, we’ll have a few of my games left before Christmas break, and then we can spend as much time as possible together before Nationals. Sound good?”

I had almost forgotten amidst the training, family, and baby drama that I am expected to attend the annual Cameron holiday party in a few weeks. It typically includes my parents’ business associates, which ultimately means that their
investment
needs to make an appearance. I know Jeremy still has some major issues surrounding my parents’ trustworthiness, but I can’t
not
ask him to go with me.

“Hey, um, before I forget.” I slide my hands over his waist as I stand in the doorway. “My parents’ annual holiday party is on December 14
th
. As much as I’d like to avoid going, I really don’t have a choice. I know you don’t have a game that night, so it would be nice to have someone there who’s on my side for once. You don’t have to, though. I know how you feel about my parents.”

“Emily, if you want me there, I’ll be there. I’ll put aside my issues for the night and keep my comments to myself,” he stresses. “I know how difficult it is for you to deal with the pressure you are currently under with the Nationals in Boston and Olympics coming up. If I can help ease the tension for just one night, then I’ve done my job as your boyfriend.” He leans in to give me a kiss on the forehead. “Now, go to Paris and kick some Parisian ass for me. We’ll be here when you get back.” He points to his crotch area.

Playing the dense card, I reply, “We? Aww, you mean you and Aspen are going to miss me? That’s soooo cute!” I then make my way toward the stairs to head out.

“That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble, Miss Cameron.”

Turning, I see him leaning on the doorframe at the top of the stairs. “I can only hope my mouth gets into something, Mr. Page. I love you.”

He lets out a full-bellied laugh at my dirty response. “Love you too, babe. I’ll see you in a few days.”

When I open the door to my car, snowflakes begin to fall, a sure sign that winter is approaching. Pretty soon everything will be blanketed in white. Once in my car, I start it, allowing it to warm up a bit before driving off. My phone dings in my purse, alerting me of a text message. A smile forms on my face as I read it’s from Jeremy.

We miss you already. “Hands Down” <3 U –J

I open
Spotify
to listen to the song before leaving. While the music is playing over my speakers, I look up to Jeremy’s living room windows to see him staring back at me. Blowing steam onto his windowpane, he draws a heart in the fogged glass with his finger. Then, because he’s not cheesy enough, he leans his entire chest onto the glass with his arms out to the side yelling, “Don’t go, Emily!” Aspen hops up in excitement behind him, not knowing what to make of it all. Laughing so hard with tears clouding my eyes, I send him a text.

See you in five days. Until then “I Touch Myself” <3 U –E

As I’m pulling out of the driveway, I notice Jeremy checking my text on his phone. His mouth drops open, and he shakes his head in disbelief. He types something on his phone, and within seconds, my phone signals me of another text.

You are an evil woman. It’s a good thing I love you.
<3 U –J

I’m really not sure why I told Emily that sending a random email here and there for the next five days was going to cut it. I’ve received maybe two emails from her so far. One saying she made it to Paris and that her mother is still alive, unfortunately, and the other telling me she won gold, barely. I might have sent her at least two emails a day. To my defense, it is the beginning of the week, and all I have going on are morning skates until Thursday when our usual weekend games take place.

Josh has a couple of days off and stops in to see how things are going at the house. I know he is fishing for information on Sue. I tell him everything around the house is hunky dory. Basically, I end up telling him everything except what is going on with Sue. This only pisses him off and forces him to ask the question about her and the baby.

I explain to him that she had gone to the doctor recently, and everything checked out fine. Dave showed me their first ultrasound picture when he was here after the appointment. Something tells me he is already a proud papa. I never thought he could take on something so grown up, but maybe he just needed the right girl to steer him in the right direction.

I’ve lasted the entire five days without Emily, and she is due to return from her Paris trip late tonight, but I won’t see her until tomorrow. Mom wants to make sure I ask her over for Thanksgiving dinner when I see her. It is always a huge affair at my parents’ house to have dinner, watch football, and then turn on the outside holiday lights. If Josh isn’t working that day, he’ll make sure we end up watching
National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation
. No matter how many times we watch that movie or know exactly what’s going to be said, we still laugh hysterically.

Josh and I help get out all the Christmas decorations from storage in the garage. Dad is busy tinkering with his snow blower as I pull the last of the lights from the closet. Putting the box down, I make my way over to him. “Need any help with that?”

He pulls out his Phillips head from his pocket and starts tightening the panels. “Nah, she’s just about set to go. Just need to add some oil and tighten her up. You know what they say about a fuckin’ tight blower?” he jokes as he nudges my side with his elbow.

I laugh at my old man’s sick mind. “No, Dad, what do they say about a fuckin’ tight blower?”

“Well, Son, if you don’t have a tight blower, she’s gonna leak all over the place. Need to make sure all those hoses are secured properly.” Dad laughs as he walks back around to his tool table. I really never, ever want to imagine my saint of a mom doing anything of that nature with my dad. It’s just so wrong, but Dad has been this way all my life. He’s sick, but he’s a funny shit. “Is Emily coming over for dinner on Thursday?” he asks.

Turning back to grab the box of lights and zipping up my hoodie as the temperature continues to drop, I answer, “I’ll ask her tomorrow after she gets back. Her flight doesn’t come in until almost midnight tonight.”

I think Dad has really started thinking of Emily as family. Sue is practically a daughter to him since her parents moved away years ago. She became a fixture at the Page house once she dated Josh and became Courtney’s best friend. Emily seems to have fit into that role in just three short months. It’s no wonder I was immediately drawn to her that first day; she has such a contagious beauty about her that you can’t help but fall in love with her.

As I begin walking out of the garage with the decorations, I hear Dad say behind me, “Son, she’s a little firecracker, that one. She might be new to the Page house, and no matter what happens between you two, she’s always welcome here.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

Paris was certainly an uneventful trip. It was dull compared to the trip to Denver and Vancouver last month. My mother kept to my side for the majority of the event. After spending so much time with Jeremy’s family, who are so understanding and allow breathing room, her continued annoying persistence got on my last nerve. It didn’t take much to set me off. However, after my last trip with her and the tabloid story, which no doubt earned my parents a few dollars, I had my guard up just in case.

Other than a few emails here and there, Jeremy and I kept our word not to be a distraction to each other during the week away. The Trophée Eric Bompard normally attracts more international skaters than the last two because it’s held in Paris. This allowed me to get a feel for the competition. These are the girls I’ll be competing against should I be selected by the International Skating Union to represent the USA at the Olympics and the World Championships. From the sneak attack I just endured from a fifteen-year-old Russian girl, I have my work cut out for me. I still took home gold, though. Don’t get me wrong; she was a threat without any doubt, but I had my eyes set on winning, and that was it. My scores weren’t as high as the other two competitions, which pissed me off, but it was still enough for me to earn the top spot. My mother couldn’t find much to fault at Skate Canada since she was too busy working the front-page story with Daddy. When she saw my lower combined average in Paris, I heard all about it. She claimed I was spending too much time with “bad influences,” which ultimately caused my lack of focus on skating. I blatantly laughed in her face, caught her completely off guard. Then, she proceeded to call my behavior childish and unwelcome, to which my response was, “So was your front-page tabloid picture and attempt to sell me out to save your own ass?”