“Hey, Mom, what's going on?”
“Caleb, I see you're back in the country now finally.”
“Yeah. Korea was great, thanks for asking.”
Caleb could almost hear her pressing her lips together andblinking hard, like she did when he was sarcastic, and he felt bad for taking the low road so fast on the call, but something about her snappy tone put his back up. He just felt like he should start out like he could hold out.
“I'm sorry that you didn't win a medal.”
He blew out a gusty sigh. “So am I but it was a good experience, and I'm still young in terms of the snowboarding game. I've got another chance in Beijing.”
“I just wish they would have these Olympics someplace where it was easier to watch you.”
He sucked back both of his initial responses, which were, “You mean someplace not Asian,” and, “You haven’t come to see a competition I was in since I was twelve.”
What he went with was, “Uh-huh. So how are you and Dad?”
His dad hardly ever spoke to him on the phone, so they communicated by text, email, and on the rare occasion he saw his folks on holidays.
“Did you get your Christmas present?”
Ah. There it was. The transactional part of the phone call. “Yeah. Thanks. I texted Dad.”
“He didn’t tell me.” She sounded so annoyed, and he stared at the ceiling of the little main room of his new condo in Vail, trying to decide what he was going to do to decorate it. It was very bare. Mainly he had a bed, a couch, and two big TVs.
“I probably should have called.”No apologizing,he reminded himself.That’s what she wants.
“I wish you would. Well, I just wanted to check in and say your father said you looked really good in Korea.”
Of course she hadn’t watched. Of course not. “Tell him thanks. I gotta go, Mom. Meeting with my coach.” He lied like a rug. Ooh, he should get a rug. The condo had very coldwood floors…
“Very well. I’ll call you on your birthday.”
“Yep. Love you.” He said it by rote, hoping it was really true.
“Goodbye, son.”
She hung up, and he looked at his phone, hitting the end button before it started beeping to tell him the call was done. “Well, that was fun.”
He glanced at the TV, where Hawk’s team was up 2-1. He grinned, because Hawk was on the line, as he called it, right now, and he was so fast. Fucking A, he was poetry in motion.
Hawk made his mouth dry, made him proud that he even knew the guy.
Caleb called up the text he’d typed out to Hawk and sent it before he could second-guess himself.
He needed a friendly word today. He really did.
Seven
Beijing, China 2022
“It’s cracked in three places.” Doc pointed out the lines on the X-ray he’d pulled up on his computer screen.
Caleb hissed, staring down at his foot, which had given out on his final run, the pain instant and sharp as fuck. He’d managed to keep the docs off his back until he’d limped off the course after the best run in his Olympic history, and he’d collected his bronze medal wearing a big old wrap and on crutches. But now he had to pay the piper.
The team doctor peered at Caleb over his face mask. “You need to rest, Caleb. I think you need to take off the remainder of the season.”
“Fuck.” He leaned his head back against the little raised cushion on the exam bench. “This whole trip has been bullshit.”