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Chapter 52: On the Brink

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Graceful and stubborn. Powerful and arrogant. Destined for each other and for figure skating greatness. Will fate allow? Listen for the Whispers on the Ice. Cynthia Washington made the mistake of entering the locker room before Jordan had left it and found herself the center of Jordan's glaring attention. "How could you do that to me, Cyndi. How could you give that bastard access to my life?" Jordan growled, slipping her foot into her skate, setting her heel in place with three solid kicks to the padded floor and furiously lacing up her boots.

Cynthia didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out who the bastard Jordan referred to was. "He's been lost and drifting for three years, just like you. He had questions, I thought maybe you had the answers."

"How can I have answers to his questions when I have so many of my own I'm still trying to figure out? Cyndi, I can't believe you set me up like this?" Jordan hissed angrily, standing up and squatting slightly to settle into her boots.

"You're over reacting. The show's making you edgy," Cynthia suggested, watching as Jordan paced back and forth before her.

"My edginess has nothing to do with the show - I'm fine with the show."

"Then why aren't you skating in it?"

Jordan stopped abruptly, her fiery gaze meeting Cynthia's calm, steady look. "This show isn't about me. It's a way for our students to show their family and friends how much they've accomplished. Whether or not I choose to skate - and I choose not to - has nothing to do with the show."

"I think you're afraid to be out there under the spotlight alone," Cynthia stated bluntly.

"I skate everyday alone, Cyndi."

"Not by choice, but because you have to skate, just like you have to breathe." Cynthia corrected. "Why aren't you skating in the show, Jordan? Every student in this building has asked me that question a dozen times. And I've never been able to give them the real reason, even though I know what it is."

"So tell me, knower of all things. What is that reason?" Jordan asked sarcastically, her anger growing.

Cynthia took in Jordan's defiantly raised chin, her flashing eyes and hoped she was doing the right thing. "Because you're afraid if you're a success alone on the ice people will forget Aleksei and that part of your life will have been a waste. It's easier to stay hidden in the shadows crying over what could have been and screaming unfair than it is to put yourself out there on the line and make a fool of yourself. Well, Jordan - you're right - it's easier not to try but then there's not much satisfaction in hiding and wallowing in your own self-pity."

"It's my life. I'll live it as I choose and if I choose to spend it alone then it's my damn business and no one else's!" Jordan stormed.

"You're right, it is your life. But I don't have to stand by and watch you die a little more each day. Do you think Aleksei's happy knowing you're just biding your time on earth? Do you think it would make him happy if you threw yourself off a damn cliff so you could be with him?" Cyndi yelled, grabbing Jordan and turning her to face a full-length mirror. "Look at yourself, Jordan, you've changed. You're twenty-two years old but for all the life in your eyes you could be two hundred. The last thing Aleksei would have wanted you to do was mourn him for your whole life. He didn't expect you to. If he was here now he'd kick you in your skinny ass and tell you to start living again."

"If he was here we wouldn't be having this conversation," Jordan answered flatly, the tone filled with pain.

"But he's not here - he's gone - forever, and no matter how much you wish it could be different, if can't be. It's time to let Aleksei go. It's time to thank him for all he gave you and get on with the business of living," Cyndi stated softly.

Jordan lifted tear filled eyes to her friend. "I don't know how to start."

Cyndi wiped tears from Jordan's cheeks and kissed her softly on the forehead. "Listen to the whispers on the ice, Jordan, they'll show you the way," Cyndi offered and left Jordan alone in the silent locker room.

Jordan sank to the bench when her knees refused to hold her any longer. Cyndi's words recycled through her mind and Jordan knew she was right - she was afraid to succeed on her own. Aleksei had been the best part of her life and no matter how much she raged against fate and its cruel hand, she was alone, and had to learn to stand on her own. The very thought of standing alone scared her to death, let alone the thought of being on that huge piece of ice under a spotlight by herself. What if she failed? She wasn't sure if she even wanted to try to be a single skater. And if she did, what if she couldn't make it as a single? What if no one was interested in seeing Jordan Jamison skate any longer? There were so many what ifs? to worry about.

On the other hand, what if she did become a single skater? Or for that matter, who said she had to return to competition any way? Wasn't she happy coaching and teaching? Didn't she find joy in watching her students accomplish a new move? Didn't she feel their excitement when they won a competition? Wasn't there more to life than competitions, exhibitions and injuries?

Yes! As sure as the sun would rise the following morning, Jordan knew she could find joy in her life as long as she had the ice beneath her feet, one way or another. She'd hidden behind her grief and fright long enough. Aleksei had always told her she was stronger than she realized; maybe it was time to see if he was right.

Feeling both emotionally and physically stronger than she had in years, she rose to her feet, the comforting feel of her blades beneath her made her smile. As she pushed through the locker room doors, the haunting notes of music she hadn't heard since the accident reached her ears and sent shivers coursing through her body. The melody to The Prayer crashed over her like a wave pounding the sand and nearly sent her to her knees. It was common knowledge at the ice house that that particular piece of music was never to be played, under any circumstance, and yet the music concluded and began again, it's softly pulsing beat drifting from the rink used only for hockey.

Jordan realized it could only be Nick who would be belligerent enough to play that piece of music. Obviously, since he'd been unsuccessful in his attempts to seduce her, he'd decided it was his job on the planet to torture her in every way possible and somehow he'd discovered this piece of music would be the best way to twist the proverbial knife.

"Nicholas Devon, you bastard..." Jordan yelled as she forcefully pushed through the double doors leading to the rink, her strength making them slam against the walls sounded like gunshots in the large rink. Yet the sound didn't disturb Nick as he skated to the music. Jordan watched him in silent awe, her breath barely making a sound as she watched the beauty of his skating as he circled the ice, his blades soundless against the freshly groomed ice.

Nick skated to the far side of the rink and lifted the remote to the sound system and started the piece of music over again. Jordan watched him skate to the center of the rink, his brow furrowed as if he was struggling to remember something just out of reach then smoothed as if the puzzle was solved and the pieces fit. Nick began to skate again; his feet secure beneath him, even though he wore hockey skates. His strokes were strong and lengthy, eating up the ice as he gained speed and suddenly leaped into the air, spun around three times and landed backwards on his left foot. He held his backward glide position for several long seconds and then turned as if he were lifting a partner into his arms and then setting her back on the ice.

Jordan watched Nick in silence. Chills raced up her spine as memories of the program she had described to Aleksei, as he lay dying in her arms, suddenly came to life before her. How often had she visualized this program in her mind, too afraid to actually attempt it on the ice for fear of it not being all that she had promised Aleksei it would be? And yet, now before her, their program was being performed by a stranger whose style and strength was nearly identical to Aleksei's but who physically looked nothing at all like him.

Jordan looked from the ice to the exit door she had only moments before slammed through and knew in her heart she was on the brink of something life-changing. Her mind screamed for her to run as fast and far away as possible to escape the power that beckoned to her from the ice. Yet her heart reassured her there was peace and love and comfort to be found on the shining, mirrored surface that had always been home to her. With a final glance at the exit sign, Jordan removed her blade guards from her skates, and stepped on to the ice and into her future.

Text Copyright © 2000 by Constance E. Moynihan

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