Page 31 of On the Edge

“Annie, I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I’m qualified.” The words are out of my mouth before my brain can stop them.

“Jackson, you’re an alum, a veteran of the race team, an Olympic gold medalist. And you just happen to also have a PhD in physical therapy and several years of experience working for the National Ski Team. Who could be more qualified?”

“Well, when you put it that way ...” I say, chuckling at myself. “I guess since it’s Santana, I have a bit of impostor syndrome. So, is the job being advertised already?”

“Not yet. I think HR will post it at some point this week. We’d like to then have the candidates on campus for interviews between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

I think about all the travel for World Cup races between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I let out a sigh that I’m sure she doesn’t miss. Then I remember that I’m planning to leave my job anyway, so I’m not beholden to the World Cup travel schedule.

“That was a big sigh,” she says and I debate whether or not I should tell her I’m leaving my job. Since I don’t know how that will go, and since there’s still a chance I might stay, I opt for explaining the initial sigh.

“That timing may be tricky for me. The World Cup races really pick up right after Thanksgiving. I can check my schedule, I think there’s a couple days in between Lake Louise and Beaver Creek and maybe I could fly in for an interview then. After that I’ll be in Europe for most of the winter.” I pause realizing how much I am presuming right now, and I let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I’m getting a bit ahead of myself.” I stop and run my hand over one of Petra’s houseplants, something with big leaves that sits right in front of her large double window.

“You’re really not,” Annie assures me. “And listen, part of why I wanted to chat about this on the phone is because I wanted to tell you that I’ve shared with averyselect few key people that you might possibly be interested in this position. And they areveryexcited about this possibility. We’ve all heard that you’re training Nate Davenport now, and could not be more impressed that you’re overcoming your history to work with him. This shows exactly the kind of dedication to ski racing and a commitment to athletic wellness that we’re looking for. The ability to set aside personal differences for the good of the team is an imperative quality for our coaching and training staff. And you’re training a racer with significant medical issues. This all gives you an edge. Make sure you play that up in your interview if you want the position.”

It’s like the words are lodged in my throat. I had initially envisioned this job being a way to escape working with Nate, but now it seems like it’s predicated on working with him.

“Okay,” I manage after a few awkward moments of silence. “Thanks so much for the tip.”

“Of course! Having you back here would be amazing. I’ll text you when they post the position so you can apply.”

I thank her and then hang up, staring at my reflection in the gigantic arched mirror that hangs on Petra’s wall.

What have I done to deserve this?

* * *

“So, what was that all about?” Petra asks when I come out of her bedroom. “And before you even think about lying to me, just know that I could hear about half of that conversation.” Her arms are folded across her chest, her bright blue eyes boring holes into me.

“Why do you look so mad?” I lean against the doorframe of her bedroom.

“Because when I hear my best friend say ‘maybe I could fly in for an interview,’ it makes me think you might be planning to leave Park City for a job somewhere else. What the hell, Jackson? Are you moving?”

“Okay,” I say as I walk toward her couch. She meets me there and sits down next to me. “Can I tell you something that’s extremely secret and rely on you not to tellanyoneelse?”

“Of course,” she says as she takes her long black curls and winds them into a bun at the nape of her neck.

I consider what, if anything, to tell her about Nate. I opt to leave that part out.

“My dad let me know about two weeks ago that my mom’s cancer is back.”

Petra reaches out and grabs my hand, squeezing gently. “I’m so sorry, hon.”

“Given that this is her second recurrence, even while on a specialized gene therapy that targets the cancer to inhibit growth, this is really bad news.” I pause, swallowing down the sob that is rising in my throat. “Like, maybe terminal.”

“Is that what the doctors have said?”

“Not yet. They are starting chemo soon, and I hope there’ll be good news. But it’s made me realize how much I want to be back home, close to my parents so I can be there for my mom through whatever this looks like.”

“Why does this have to be top secret? You’re not even telling Sierra?”

“Sierra literally moved to Park City for me. She will be crushed if I leave.”

“Hey,Imoved here for you too.”

“You moved here because of me, not for me.”

“What’s the difference?”

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