Chapter Nineteen

 

“Okay, so, it’s like two o’clock in the morning, and I’m in Trixie’s kitchen. And now I feel stupid, like I’m talking to myself, so I’m just gonna stop now.”

Before leaving for the night, Abby gave Shaye and Trixie each their own camera and instructed them to film anything that might be of interest. Shaye figured she probably meant at practice because she couldn’t spend all day at the gym with them, but she felt like testing out the equipment. Now she felt asinine. She left the camera on but set it on the counter while she rummaged through the refrigerator for something to drink and maybe a snack. She found a can of Diet Coke and a container of sliced plums.

The moment she turned around, someone else entered the kitchen. She gasped and jumped backwards before she realized it was only Trixie’s father.

“You scared the crap out of me,” she said.

“Sorry,” Tavian said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” Shaye replied, sitting down at the kitchen table. “I guess I’m still sort of on New York time. I fell asleep before eight. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No,” Tavian said, grabbing another Diet Coke from the fridge. “I don’t sleep much.”

While Shaye had gone for a healthy snack, Tavian grabbed a bag of potato chips from the pantry. Granted, he wasn’t training for the Olympics, but she was still jealous. He sat down across from her at the table. “How’s Beatrix doing?”

Shaye sidestepped the question. “Your English has gotten better.”

“Bea’s better at it than I am,” he admitted. “They both learned English and Romanian at the same time as they were growing up. Magda and I learned for the restaurant.”

When Tavian said “they both,” Shaye knew he was talking about Trixie and Ileana, but she didn’t say anything.

He was uncomfortable when he asked, “So how’s she doing?”

“Who?”

“Bea.”

“You two aren’t talking.” It wasn’t a question.

“Not for a while, no.”

“That’s okay,” Shaye said dismissively. “I don’t talk to my father, either.”

“Why not?”

“Because he’s a jerk.”

“How long has it been since you spoke to him?” Tavian asked.

“Well, I haven’t lived with him since I was nine. That’s when I moved in with my sister. But I didn’t stop talking to him until I was fourteen.”

“That’s the last time you saw him?”

“No. I saw him at Nationals.”

“A year or so ago?”

“No,” Shaye repeated. “A month or so ago.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you stopped talking to him two years ago.”

“I did.”

“But you saw him at Nationals.”

“I saw him. I didn’t talk to him. He comes to all my meets. That doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“He must love you.”

“My sister has stopped trying to get me to reconcile.”

“I love Bea, but I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Maybe you can’t.” This was a strange conversation to say the least. It should have been awkward, but for Shaye, it wasn’t only an opportunity for her to tell Tavian exactly what his daughter had gone through over the past few months. Weirdly, it was also a chance for her to say some things she’d wanted to say to her own father for years.

“What?”

“So you love her. Big deal. My father loves me, but that doesn’t mean he gets to be part of my life.”

He looked down at his untouched potato chips. “I’ve already lost one daughter. I can’t bear to lose another.”

“You abandoned her when she needed you most,” Shaye said with an eerie calm. She felt like she did immediately before mounting an apparatus in a big competition. Focused, cool, steady, confident. “You left her alone to deal with her mother, to deal with her grief with no support, to take all the blame for Ileana’s death.”

“That’s not true. I told her in no uncertain terms none of this is her fault.”

“What difference does that make if you didn’t say the same thing to your wife?”

Tavian had no response.

Shaye finished her drink and closed the container of fruit. “I’m not here because Trixie is feeling overwhelmed by your support, you know what I’m saying?”

As she was returning the prunes to the refrigerator and grabbing the video camera, Tavian asked, “Does she hate me?”

“I think that’s something you should be talking to her about.”

“By the way, I am glad you’re here.”

“Me, too. ‘Night, Tavian.” She turned off the camera and headed upstairs to the bedroom she was sharing with Trixie. Though she expected to be awake until it was time to get up, she found it astonishingly easy to fall asleep.