Page 137 of Goal Line
And that’s what I’m building here in Boston with Luke, not just our immediate and extended family, but friends who are family, too.
I glance over at my husband, where he stands chatting with Lauren and Morgan, and his gaze shifts to me as I hold our daughter against my shoulder to burp her.
Her head is heavy on my shoulder, and the look in his eyes is a combination of love and hunger. It’s a look that reminds me that he’ll never get enough of us together, which is good, because that’s exactly how I feel, too.
Epilogue
LUKE & EVA
LUKE
Four Months Later
Nagoya, Japan
“You’d think you were the one about to skate onto the ice, you’re so nervous!” Mom says, placing her hand over mine and giving my fingers a squeeze. It’s enough to interrupt the bouncing of my knee, but I can still feel the turmoil inside of me.
From her seat on the other side of my mom, Helene leans forward. “She’s going to be fine, Luke. You sawthem last night in the short program; it was like they’d never spent a day off the ice.”
If you’d told me a year ago that I’d be sitting here tonight with my mom and mother-in-law, with my baby strapped snugly against my chest while cheering on my wife in her bid for the Olympics, I would never have believed it.
Not only because I never dared to hope that Eva and I would end up together like this, but I also never thought Eva and her mom could repair their relationship, nor did I think I’d ever miss three games without being injured or sick. Luckily, my coaches and teammates have been nothing but supportive about my absence.
“You’re right,” I say, shaking my head slightly to try to clear away my nerves. It’s just that so much rests on the next four minutes. I thought the pressure was high in hockey, but we getsevengames to prove we deserve the Cup. In pairs skating, they get a combined seven minutes over two performances.
“I’m starting to think my daughter-in-law is superhuman,” my mom says.
I couldn’t agree more. Four months ago, she gave birth, ten weeks ago, she started training again, and today, she’s better than ever. As hard as these last ten weeks have been—with her training and me traveling with the team, and neither of us feeling like we’re spending enough time with Gigi—watching her skate last night proved that it’s all been worth it.
She hasneverskated with such skill and precision, and she and Christopher are in second place going into tonight’s free skate.
“Do you want me to take her,” our nanny, Allison, asks from my other side, nodding her chin toward Gigi, “so you can focus on Eva’s performance?”
“Thank you, but no. I want to experience this with my daughter.” I run my hand down her back and pat her bum. She’s wearing the noise-canceling earmuffs I got her for tonight and seems totally content looking up at me with sleepy eyes. I wish I could borrow some of her tranquility. I also wish I could turn her around so she can face the ice and see her mama, but her neck’s not quite strong enough for that and she can’t see that far yet anyway. Hopefully, she’ll be able to watch her in the Olympics two months from now.
The Canadian pair that’s just finished their performance finally skates off toward the kiss-and-cry booth to await their scores. My knee starts bouncing of its own will again as I watch the young skaters collect the flowers and stuffed animals that were thrown on the ice after the performance.
Glancing beyond the Canadian pair, I watch Eva and Christopher standing near the door through which they’ll take the ice. They’re facing each other and her forehead rests on his chest while his hands run along her upper arms. Her shoulders shake, and when she looks up at him, I can see that she’s laughing. I can sense their excitement from across the ice. The misplaced jealousy I felt before has completely disappeared, replaced with pure pleasure and pride—for both of them.
Glancing over my shoulder, I look up at Jenn, who’s sitting with her parents in the row behind us. She and Christopher are still going strong, and even Eva is surprised that he’s finally settled into a serious relationship.Sometimes, all it takes is the right person in the right place at the right time.
“You nervous?” I ask her.
“I think I’m going to throw up.” Her eyes are trained on them, and I’m pretty sure she’s let go of any insecurities she had about the nature of their relationship too.
I reach my elbow over the seat and nudge her knee so she’ll look at me. “Hey, they’re going to do great. They’ve been working toward this for nearly a decade.”
Then the crowd erupts with applause as the Canadian pair’s scores flash on the screen, moving them into first place when combined with last night’s short program results. We’re almost at the end of the competition, and most, if not all, of tonight’s medalists will come from this final group of competitors. Eva and Christopher are the second to last pair to skate.
They take the ice, skating hand in hand to their starting position in front of the judges. When their music comes on, I’m completely engrossed, and everything fades away except the two of them. The tempo is upbeat and the crowd claps along as they come up to one of the more difficult parts of their performance—a triple jump combination. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the crowd erupts in applause after they land all three flawlessly, and I exhale in relief. Eva’s broad smile makes it clear she can sense how well they’re skating, and she’s enjoying every second.
Christopher launches her into a triple twist, and she lands gently on one skate and glides backward so lightly, it’s hard to believe she was ten feet above the ice just moments before. They’re in the home stretch now. The most difficultparts of the performance are behind them, and the scoreboard shows green checks next to each of the required elements. As they move through the synchronized choreography of the more artistic segment of the performance, they look like they’re having the time of their lives.
Entering the final spin, they both plant a toe pick on the ice to stop at exactly the same moment, hands linked and arms up in victory. I can tell that they know that they’ve done more than enough to qualify for the Olympics.
In the booth a few rows behind where we’re seated, I can hear the television announcers saying what I’m thinking.
“With a performance like that, I’m certain that Steele and Hartmann just earned themselves a spot on the US Olympic Team,” Alyssa Goodman, a former US gold medalist and an announcer for US pairs competitions, says.
