Crack In The Ice - Chapter 26: Chapter 26

I get his text just as I'm walking through the door to my parents house.
I glance down at my phone to re-read it over and over all throughout dinner.
This is supposed to be a celebratory dinner.
Logan is home. She's the one we are supposed to be celebrating. For her promotion in the Astor Investments Group. My sister has devoted a lot of her time and energy into the family business, and now she's becoming the COO of the NYC branch. Voted by the board. At the tender age of twenty-seven.
My parents were over the moon.
The second person we're celebrating is a sort of last-minute arrangement. Chloe and I have placed first three in Grand Prix events before, but never at the final. Until this year.
I was meant to skate in the final and return just in time for my sister's celebratory dinner. When Logan heard I won, she insisted the dinner was for both of us. It was a very nice, very Logan-like gesture.
Too bad I can't focus on anything beyond Eli's texts.
He used to call. Whenever I won something, he would always call. I never realized how much I craved the sound of his voice, lowered over the phone as he told me how much I deserved it. Until that call never came.
He still texted, though.
Maybe he's busy. He has a career too. He travels a lot. Maybe he's with his teammates and can't get on the phone. Not with me, at least.
Of course I know neither of that's the reason. For the past couple of weeks, I haven't been able to think of anything but the real reason.
I started drafting half a million texts, always to delete them and hide my phone away in my pocket for five minutes before pulling it out again, rinse and repeat. I let my finger hover over his name on my contact list many times, thinking about calling, explaining, asking for another chance.
Text or call, what would I even say?
I'm sorry I told you I love you, please don't ignore me. I don't love you, not at all, I didn't mean it. It was an accident, something from the moment, not a real 'I love you'. Please forget I said anything. Let's go back to how we were. Please don't ignore me again.
There's no way to put it.
I should never have said it in the first place. I've kept it locked inside so tightly, I even forbade myself from admitting it inside my own head. Why did it have to come out?
The only moments I can actually forget are when I'm on the ice. The plus side is I've been more dedicated to my skating than ever. Especially after my conversation with Chloe.
I thought about talking to her. Telling her everything after swearing her to secrecy. Something keeps me from doing it, though. Some sort of unspoken promise I made to Eli. An unbreakable vow of loyalty. A trust I'm not willing to break. A betrayal I can't bring myself to commit.
The truth is the only person I could ever possibly talk about this to is currently the one avoiding me.
Maybe it's for the best. The Olympics are coming up. Chloe and I need to be more focused than ever. No James or Eli shit getting in the way. No distractions.
"What's wrong, son?"
I turn my head to see my dad standing by the door into the living room. My sisters are in the kitchen, with my mom and Grandma. They were looking out the window to watch the snow fall with the mountains in the background, where the Christmas lights turn Lake City into a postcard town.
My dad smiles at me. "Thought you'd be looking a little more like someone who just won another medal."
I shrug. "Just tired."
My dad nods, like he gets it. "You've been training really hard. It's good to take days off. To recharge."
That surprises me a little. The generations of Astor men before me - my dad included - have always been big advocates for hard work as the only road to success. The good ol' all-American white dude shtick.
My dad takes a seat by my side on the couch. "You sure you're just tired?"
I frown. "Why?"
His smile is almost secretive. "You look a little like the main character of a moody teen drama, pining after some lost love."
I snort. "What would you know about pining?"
My dad's smile breaks into a full-blown grin. "I was the champion of pining at your age."
That makes me sit up. I suddenly remember years of little jokes and jabs between my parents about how my dad had to chase my mom.
"Were you?"
"Your mom did not make it easy for me, you know."
I tilt my head to the side. "She was a waitress at the resort."
"She was."
I twist my nose. "That's really shady. You were her boss."
"My dad was," he says. "I was carrying luggage for tips the winter I met her."
I skort. "It's still a little shady."
My dad sighs. "Yeah. They were different times. But we did have our issues with that dynamic to overcome. Especially your mom."
It takes me a moment to ask, "Like what?"
"Like I said, different times. In many ways." My dad looks at me. "Your mother was a young attractive woman, daughter of immigrants, single parent household. And my dad was the boss. She was afraid of what people would think. Of what they would say. About her, of course. It was always going to be about her that people would talk. She couldn't stand the idea of anyone knowing about us."
I frown. "Are you saying you and mom, like, dated in secret?"
My dad nods. "For six year, I was her dirty secret."
I sit up, eyes wide. "Six years?"
I can't believe it. The past five years of my life flash by me in little vignettes of my encounters with Eli - closed doors, drawn curtains, clandestine touches and subtle looks.
My parents dated for six whole years. No one ever knew. Just hiding from everyone they knew. Keeping it a secret.
My dad laughs at my shock. "Yeah. It drove me near to insanity."
Words evade me for a minute. They catch in my throat, choking me.
Insanity, he says. I think I know that feeling.
"How'd you do it?" I mutter. "How did you know not to give up? Keep chasing her?"
"Honestly?" My dad muses. "Almost did. Give up, I mean."
My heart squeezes inside my chest.
"I wanted to be sympathetic of your mother's position, but I couldn't really stand the secrecy anymore," he says. "And I told her that."
"And then what?"
"We broke up, I guess."
My throat tightens.
"A week later she came back to me." He smiles. "The rest is history and you're the proof."
I lean back against the couch.
If walking away worked on Eli, he'd have come back to me long ago. No matter how hard I try and which approach I try - giving him space, chasing him - he just keeps slipping away whenever he feels trapped. And everything makes him feel trapped.
I look at my dad, trying to ignore the uncomfortable weight on my chest. "Carrying luggage for tips, huh?"
"Ah, that was one of the worst ones. Still feel it in my back today," hed says, putting a hand at the base of his spine and rolling his shoulders back with a crack.
"Waiter was one I quite liked. Mostly because I got to see your mom a lot." He  smiles. "Front desk was fine, but boring as hell. Can't tell you how many shifts I fell asleep on. Of course, I was working nights and taking classes by day. Your grandfather made me try pretty much all the baseline jobs at the resort."
"Why?"
"Know the work force, understand my privileges, earn my own tuition money. Your grandfather covered quite a lot of it at the time, but I had to pay him back every penny. Sort of like a student loan without the interest and piling debt."
I smirk. "So nothing like a student loan."
He grins. "It was a loan to a student."
I snort. "Did you do that with Logan?"
My dad chuckles. "No. Your grandfather belonged to a different generation of parenting. Your mother and I always tried to do things a little differently. We thought if we couldn't teach you the values we wanted you to learn by example, then we had no place teaching them at all."
"You definitely did well on Logan. COO is a pretty big deal. You must be super proud."
My dad's smile is a testament to my words. "She's earned it. That's why they voted her."
"Mh. It's all she's been working for."
My dad looks at me, eyebrows rising a little. "I'm proud of you. You know that, right?"
I look at him. It's not until I open my mouth I realize I don't know what to say.
"It's not because of the medals or the trophies," he adds. "I'm proud of you for finding a passion. Something that drives you to work hard for your goals. Something that keeps you moving and present and grounded." He gives me a little knowing smile. "You definitely gave us the most work, but your mother and I couldn't be prouder. We've always been proud, but we see how hard you've been working. We always knew that tenacity would take you far in life." Then, almost conspiratorially, he adds, "We just had to find a way to get you to lose that chip off your shoulder."
I snort. "Guess that's where grandpa Billy's tactic came in."
My dad tilts his head to the side. "Maybe. Maybe not."
I arch my eyebrows.
"The secret of parenting, you see - the one my father's generation never really got and that mine is slowly figuring out," he says. "You don't really have that much impact in who your children turn out to be. At the end of the day, it's the people you meet and the experiences you live, and what you choose to take from it all that really shapes who you are. We just try to guide you through it in the beginning. Then take the credit."
"Mh. I disagree."
He looks surprised.
"I think a lot, if not everything I am, is thanks to you and mom." I shrug. "I don't know, you guys kinda nailed this parenting thing."
He smiles. "I'm glad to hear you think so."
Then, figuring it's my turn to be surprised, he puts his arm around me and kisses the top of my head.
"Whoever this person is that you're pining over," he murmurs into my temple, "I'm sure they're not worth it. But if you think they are, make sure they know you're worth it too."