Aaron texted Brendan. He would have preferred Katie, who understood his brain and life best, but Brendan dealt with all things logistics. If he’d contacted Katie, she’d have made him talk to Brendan anyway. That was how they did things.
Aaron: Hi! I just heard about Luke’s accident. What happens if I come back to training early?
Aaron didn’t even know if they were in the Twin Cities right now. Probably, because of Katie’s farm, but in the summers she and Brendan always seemed to be travelling all over the world for something for a week here and there. In either case, there wasn’t anything he could but wait to hear back.
FOR THE REST OF THE day Aaron kept his phone muted and in his pocket so he wouldn’t be tempted to check for notifications every five minutes. He finally let himself dig it out and look that evening while he was at the dock waiting for his mom to finish refueling the boat so they could head back home after a too-long day. His dad was sitting next to him, checking his own phone for the weather forecast, and Ari was somewhere along the shore, probably making friends with more seagulls.
There was, in fact, a reply from Brendan, and Aaron tapped on it hastily.
Brendan: Hi! Good to hear from you. Hope your family’s doing well. Short answer: Yes, if you decide you want to come back early, Katie and I will be here for you. Longer answer: Before you make a decision, think about what your goals are, think about resources you’ll need outside of federation funding, and think about whether the extra training is going to be useful to you vs overtraining.
Aaron breathed a sigh of relief at the first part of the message. As for the rest—Well. His goal was obvious: He wanted to make the Olympic team.
More training vs overtraining was easy. Aaron could moderate himself once he got there. In part, because Katie and Brendan would make sure of it, but Aaron liked to think he was self-aware enough that he didn’t have to put the burden of saying stop on his coaches.
Resources, however, was the question mark. Brendan meant Aaron’s own internal resources of determination and physical endurance, yes. But resources was also code for money and time. And time was more complicated for Aaron than most.
He texted Brendan back.
Aaron: Thanks! I’ll talk to my parents and figure some things out.
Brendan’s reply came almost immediately.
Brendan: We look forward to hearing from you!
Aaron knew Brendan meant it, but there were times—like right now—he wanted a hell of a lot more handholding than that.
THE RIDE BACK TO WHISKER Island was one of Aaron’s favorite parts of the day, and not just because work was over. In the middle of the lake, surrounded by water and sky, the world felt young and simpler. Tonight the lake was calm under a velvety lavender sky, silver-dark ripples spreading out to the horizon. Now that the sun had set, the air was cold, and the speed of the boat only amplified that.
As much as Aaron wanted to savor this moment, he suspected it would be easier to start this conversation now than when they were back on dry land.
“Something happened in skating today,” he said over the rush of the wind and the steady slice of the boat through the water.
“What’s that?” Aaron’s mom asked. His dad was piloting, but Aaron knew he was listening too.
Aaron explained Luke’s accident. He didn’t need to use any more words than Huy had; his parents knew the realities of skating as well as non-skaters could. Ari, in the stern of the boat, sat with her face turned out over the water, her curls whipping back behind her. Aaron was sure she was listening too and that she would have opinions.
“This changes things...the lineup for the U.S. team,” Aaron said. “I have a chance now. And—I know this is a big ask, and that there’s going to be a lot of details to work out, but....”
“Spit it out, Aaron,” his father said.
“I want to find a way to go back to training early.”
“How early?” his mom asked.
Tomorrow, Aaron wanted to say. But he couldn’t. Many things might or might not be possible, but that certainly wasn’t. “As soon as possible.”
“It’s almost Memorial Day weekend,” she pointed out. She wasn’t saying no, but she didn’t sound happy.
“I know.”
“We open in two days and then it’s one of the busiest seventy-two hours of the year.”
Aaron was about to reply in the frustrated affirmative, again, when Ari shushed them.
He whipped his head around towards her. “What?”
“Cut the motor,” she said quietly.
When her father didn’t, she shouted. “Dad, cut the fucking motor!”
As the boat spluttered to its swaying stop in the middle of the dark lake, Aaron held his breath. In the darkness, something barked.
“It’s a dog,” their mother said.
“Quiet!” Ari hissed. In the dark the barking seemed to multiply.
“Someone’s got an awful lot of dogs,” Aaron said. The sound, whatever it was, was definitely not a dog.
“There,” Ari said, pointing to a spot in the middle distance, somewhat vaguely in the direction of Canada.
What seemed to be the sleek rounded head of a seal rose up out of the water, before diving again. Then, a few more, glimpsed and gone. Then dozens.
“It’s the wind, stirring up the water,” their mother said softly.
Aaron had to admit that was probably true. The wind could get so strong that eight-foot waves on the lake happened often enough. What looked like seal heads was probably just the breeze, lacing between the islands in the twilight and tricking their tired eyes.
The barking stopped, as if dispelled by reason.
“I don’t want us to hit one,” Ari said.
“Pretty sure magic freshwater seals
