Page 9 of Shining Through

The tall Russian touched her shoulder and his blue gaze locked with hers. “And that feels good? Bad?”

“In between,” Tabitha admitted, then turned to the pair’s coach, Carrie Parker-Belikova. A petite blond in her mid-thirties, Carrie was a former American pair skater and Winter Games champion who’d skated with her Russian husband, Anton. “Thanks for squeezing me into your ice time,” Tabitha said. “The extra practice away from prying eyes is welcome.”

Carrie smiled. “We’re happy to help one of Peter’s students. My first partner and I trained at Beverly Ice Arena back in the day, and I often wished Peter had been my coach.”

“He’s a good man,” Tabitha said. “I’m lucky to have him.”

Misha tilted his head toward the closed doors of the East Rink. “I’m almost done here. Go warm up; I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

The rink was quiet, as Tabitha sat down to put on her skates. Bent over, tightening her boots, she was startled by loud music—a throbbing, electronic keyboard riff followed by haunting lyrics that described waking up to the end of the world. The song was “Radioactive” by Imagine Dragons. Samara always turned it up when it came on the radio.

Tabitha rose, standing with one foot laced into her skate, the other flat on the ground. Out on the ice was a lone man dressed in a black t-shirt, pants and gloves. The only color came from the tattoos that covered both muscular arms.

He flew along the far side of the ice, skating strong, smooth strokes that built to breathtaking speed. He sprang into a triple toe that looked effortless, then cut toward center ice for a choreo sequence punctuated by clenched fists. The skate conveyed a man’s desperate but futile fight. The program was raw and powerful; there was nothing pretty about it. It was as if the skater had ripped every dark emotion from his soul and thrust it on display. Tabitha couldn’t stop watching.

This. This is what Antigone is missing.

Skating backward, he approached her side of the rink, and she craned her neck, trying to see his face. But he dropped, knees bent and feet angled out, his back arched in a cantilever. He didn’t rise until he’d skated past, though the rear view of him was darned nice. It wasn’t until he cut back to center ice that she saw his face. He was strikingly handsome with chiseled features and dark eyes. Black hair flopped down over his brow.

Who was he?

At center ice, he dropped again, this time into a hydroblade; arms spread wide and black-gloved fingers splayed. Then the rink door swung open, and in walked Misha. Noticing her standing with only one skate on, he laughed. “You’ll not get much done that way!” He shouted to the man on the ice. “Danya!” He made a slashing motion across his throat. A moment later the music stopped.

“Who was…?” Tabitha started to ask, but Misha had already skated out, leaving her no choice but to lace her skates and do her warm-up. By the time she joined him at center ice, the male skater was nowhere in sight.

“Peter says Antigone needs work,” Misha said. “What part?”

“Every part.” She offered a shaky laugh. Time to get her head in the game. “It’s like I’m going through the motions, but I feel nothing.” Maybe it wasn’t the clearest explanation but how could she find the right words for something she struggled to grasp? “It’s nothing like that guy who was out here earlier. Who was that anyway?”

Misha chuckled. “A distraction you don’t need. Why don’t you show me Antigone?”

She performed the four minute free skate and hit every element, from the opening jumping pass with the crowd-pleasing (and high scoring) triple axel, through the midpoint choreo section, adding every dramatic flourish and anguished expression the sad story demanded. At the end, was another triple axel, followed by a combination spin that brought her low to the ice, depicting Antigone’s tragic end.

“Your technique is perfect,” Misha said when she’d finished. “But, your performance feels like exactly that. A performance. Emotionless. Distant.”

“I’m just not connecting with her.” Heat rose in her cheeks as she realized what she’d just said. “It, I mean. I’m not connecting withit. The music. I don’t like opera.”

“That makes it harder. Most skaters don’t hate their program music until the end of the season. But opera wasn’t a problem when we were working on it this summer.” He leaned against the rink wall. “Tell me about Antigone, the character. Who is she?”

“She was the Princess of Thebes who came from a family so dysfunctional, mine looks normal by comparison. She defied her uncle the king to bury her outlaw brother. The king sentenced her to death, so she hung herself. We won’t even mention her father, Oedipus.”

Misha chuckled. “If Antigone were your friend, what would you say to her?”

“My friend? It’s hard to imagine the Princess of Thebes and I having much in common.”

But then again, maybe they did. Antigone was a princess from a messed up family. Tabitha was the Ice Queen whose regal persona disguised a childhood mired in poverty, and an ex-rock groupie mom whose resume included stints as a carnival fortune teller and phone sex operator. A woman who’d sacrificed everything for Tabitha’s skating, including her younger daughter’s dreams. Tabitha was determined to honor those sacrifices, but just as Antigone’s quest had ended in failure and disgrace, would Tabitha’s? The mere thought was unbearable. Was that why it was so hard to lose herself in Antigone’s story?

Misha’s tone was gentle. “Antigone will sacrifice everything for her family. There’s foolishness in that, but there’s loyalty and courage. You know both things.”

Tabitha wiggled her freezing toes inside her tight skates, then bobbed a brief nod.

Misha’s mouth twitched with the hint of a smile. “Try again for me?”

For the next run-through, Tabitha tried to look past Antigone’s self-righteous martyrdom and focus on the love which drove her. It wasn’t a comfortable thing to dwell on, but it was something she understood. Loyalty and love demanded sacrifice. Fiona and Samara had sacrificed for her. Pouring everything into skating, even though there were days she never wanted to step on the ice again, was what Tabitha owed them in return.

By the end of their practice, Misha appeared satisfied. “It may not be the program you love deep in your soul, but your strong elements, especially the axel, will make you difficult to beat. We have a few minutes left. Let’s work on something you enjoy. Are you still using the Hozier song for your show skate?”

This past summer, she and Misha had worked on the exhibition program to Hozier’s “Someone New.” Tabitha nodded. “Peter’s not crazy about me skating to a song about hooking up with strangers, but since I agreed to Antigone, he didn’t fight me too much. Yes, I’d love to skate it.”

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