At first it bothered me, the little interest they showed. I wanted them to want to be there, to watch me tumble and flip and balance on the beam. To watch me move up to another level or stick a dismount without wobbling. I craved their attention like all children did with their parents, but after years of begging for it, I eventually gave up and learned to adapt to their disinterest. Nowadays, mom rarely came to practice, and either of my parents attended very few competitions. Except the ones worth being seen at.
Their actions forced me to be independent and learn to do things on my own, something I quickly learned to value. That being said, I refused to give up. Nothing or no one would take my goal away from me.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I heard a faint knock on my door. I cracked my eyes opened and was surprised to notice the darkness surrounding me.
Another louder knock sounded and I prayed it wasn't my mom.
"Yeah?"
"Ana?" Relief coursed through me at the sound of my dad's voice. "Can I come in?"
Huffing loudly, I sat up on the edge of my bed. "Come in."
Dad opened the door, flipping on the light switch as he walked in. I glanced in the mirror on the adjacent wall and pulled back in shock. My face was blotchy and swollen from crying. Hair lay stuck and matted to my face. I looked like shit, but I didn't care. I was upset.
I glanced at my dad. The sorrow in his eyes was heavy. It was clear he was remorseful over his decision. The last time I'd seen him, he was dressed in a clean, crisp shirt and tie. Now the tie was gone, a few buttons were undone, and his sleeves were rolled up. He looked disheveled and worn out, and I suddenly felt bad that I was the cause of that. I acted like a spoiled brat and argued with him, something I always tried to refrain from. Usually it was my older brother who caused so much turmoil for my parents, not me.
"Yes, Daddy?" I tried to lighten the tension. A soft smile charmed his face. I was a daddy's girl through and through, and he knew it.
"May I sit with you?"
I nodded, and he sat next to me, causing the mattress to dip a little. He moved the tangled hair from my cheeks and eyed me carefully.
"You look like you've been crying, which can only mean that I'm at fault."
I flattened my lips and cast my eyes down. "I may have been."
"I apologize, sweetheart." He ran a tired hand down his face. "About the gymnastics..."
"Yeah?"
"Listen, it's not that I don't want you to do it, it's that I don't want you moving so far away on your own. You're still very young and the world is a dangerous place. What if something happened to you? I wouldn't be able to get to you fast enough."
My heart ached. "Dad, you're always traveling for work." He winced, and I instantly felt terrible for stating that fact. But it was the truth, and I had to get my point across. "What would be the difference?"
He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "You're right, I do travel a lot for work, and I'm sorry that I'm not around enough, but the difference is that I'm an experienced adult and you're not."
I slouched in defeat. "You're right. I was just hoping you'd give it some thought. It's not like I'd be completely alone. I'd live in a dorm with other girls and a den mom. And other moms are typically there."
"Not your mom, though. I don't even know those women, Adrianna. You're my daughter, I can't trust them with you."
I gave him a serious look. "Dad, we both know mom isn't the kind of mother to do something like that for me." The kind of mother who gives and does anything for her children to see them thrive, Joy Rossi had much better things to do.
My dad sighed. "You put up a good argument and I have thought about it." I perked up. "I have a business associate on the West Coast who happens to coach gymnastics. Let me give him a call and see what he says."
My jaw dropped and my heart skipped a beat. "The West Coast, Dad? You'll send me all the way to California, but not New Hampshire?"
"Not California, the west coast of Florida. Cape Coral. You know, three hours max from here? Not fifteen hundred miles."
I paused, pursing my lips together. "You have a friend who's a coach? How did I not know this?"
"You met him when you were younger, though you probably don't remember. He bought some real-estate from me many years ago and we've always stayed in touch. Every so often we'll flip a house together, or he'll ask for advice on property. His name is Konstantin."
The name didn't ring any bells. "What level does he coach?"
"That, I'm not sure of. I only know that he's a former Russian Olympian and is good at what he does."
Hope sprouted inside of me to the point where I couldn't contain my smile. Russians were crazy, their gymnastic training, even crazier. But I wouldn't complain, I was willing to take what I could. Beggars couldn't be choosers.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me this sooner."
"His past doesn't come up because it's never been part of our business transactions. It's never been of use to me or on my mind. I didn't know you weren't happy at your current gym," he countered. "If you had told me your coaches weren't cutting it, Konstantin could've stepped in sooner."
Touché. "When are you going to call him? Can you call now? Please?"
He chuckled at my eagerness, the light in his pale eyes returning. My dad and I had the same exact shade of green eyes. In fact, I resembled him the most. From my dark hair to my long legs and skin tone, we were very similar. And just like my dad, when I got excited about something, my eyes turned a brilliant jade color. Although, I wasn't sure where the deep red tones in my hair or freckles came from.
Enthusiastically, I shook his arm and jumped, bobbing on my knees. "Dad!"
He sighed, restraining a smile. "Come into my office and I'll give him a call now."
"Really?" I shrieked. When he nodded, I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank you, Dad! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
He patted my back lovingly. "I can't make any promises, sweetheart, but I'll try my best."
I jumped from my bed, trailing closely behind. Once we were back in his office, I plopped down into a studded leather chair in front of his desk once again. This time I placed my hands under me so I didn't fidget while my father got situated.
And by situated, I meant pouring himself a glass of bourbon.
"All right, remind me again what level you are, what the goal is you want to achieve."
Sadness crept inside me. I wish he knew without me having to remind him. The man could spout off twenty different business transactions from the top of his head, but he couldn't retain a few facts about his daughter.
"I'm a level ten, but I need an elite coach so I can compete at the elite level next season."
He nodded and dialed a number, enabling the speakerphone. The phone rang a few times until a deep voice picked up.
"Allo?"
My brows creased together. A-low?
"Konstantin, my friend, Frank Rossi here. How are you doing?"
"Frank, it is good to hear your voice. You are just the man I wanted to speak with actually." Dad mentioned he was Russian, and his heavy accent confirmed it.
"Is that so? Did you happen to get my Christmas gift? I sent a bottle of my favorite vodka to you and that pretty girlfriend of yours."
Konstantin paused, laughing lightly. "I will have to ask Katja when I get home. Her appetite for vodka is just as voracious as mine. I hope she did not drink it all without me." He chuckled, as did my dad. "Thank you in advance. That was very kind of you."
"How is Katja doing? Have you decided to settle down yet?" Dad asked, swirling his glass tumbler of bourbon. As much as I liked that he was catching up with his friend, I was anxious for him to get on about me.
"Ah, not yet," he responded."It is not for her lack of trying though... All in good time."
Dad chuckled and my heart started to beat faster. "I have a question for you. Are you still coaching gymnastics?"
"Funny you should ask. I am, and I just happened to buy World Cup from the previous owners and was thinking about expanding on it and wanted your expertise."
"Ah … " Dad's brows lifted, a sparkle twinkling in his eyes. I knew that look. It was his chance to dabble in something look. "How perfect the timing is, then. Do you recall telling me when my precious daughter was ready to switch to give you a call?"
He paused. My heart stopped. "I do."
"She came to me earlier and wanted to transfer to some gym in New Hampshire. Do you know of any gym over there?"
"Not one worth remembering."
Dad's eyes bore into mine. He raised a pointed brow and smirked. "Well, she said it's one of the best gyms on the East Coast. But I can't imagine anyone being better than you."
Konstantin chuckled. "You flatter me. I had no idea that your daughter was still training. Tell me, what level is she."