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And of course she looks fabulous the way she always does, even though she’s almost sixty.
Nobody at work knows my parents are Nancy and Greg Gauthier. If I said those names I’d be treated differently. My mom was America’s skating sweetheart in the 1980s, winning the Ladies’ Figure Skating gold at the Olympics twice in a row. And then she fell for my dad, the captain of the US hockey team, and the rest was history.
The country swooned when she gave up competing to follow my dad around, getting married and pregnant with my sister, Isabella, within a year. I came next, followed five years later by Brad and Johnny – my twin brothers.
Or as hockey fans know them,the Danger Twins.
“It was a bad hook,” my dad is saying as I join the call. “But you gotta avoid those confrontations.”
“He was asking for it,” Brad says, looking angry.
“Doesn’t mean you have to give it to him,” Dad says.
“Anyway,” my mom cuts in, smiling widely. “How is the training going, Isabella?”
“You know I can’t tell you that.” My sister rolls her eyes.
Like my mom and dad, Isabella appears onIce Stars, the latest reality show to rock the nation. But unlike my parents – who are judges – Issy is an ice dance partner to one of the celebrities who takes part. This year she’s skating with Justin Royle, an ex-boyband star from the early 2000s. I haven’t caught the show at all, but from what I hear he’s got two left feet and spends more time on his butt than his skates.
And I know exactly how that must feel.
Growing up in a third-generation skating family isn’t the best if you freeze – literally and metaphorically – as soon as you’re near ice.
They’re still talking among themselves, and I’m seriously considering quietly leaving the video call when I hear my name being said.
“Sorry?” I blink. I don’t even know which one of them said it. I’m so tired.
“Did you watch the game last night? What did you think?” my dad asks.
“The hockey game?”
My dad looks exasperated. “Yes. Was it a foul?”
I look from him to Brad, whose jaw is tight. He’s always been the more vocal of the twins.
“I had to work last night,” I say. “Sorry.”
“Well it was a foul,” Dad says to Brad. “End of.”
“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” I ask hopefully. “Because I need to go to bed.”
“Oh no, honey.” My mom shakes her head. “I told you it was about Gramps.”
I know she did, but I was really hoping whatever it was that Wayne Gauthier – my dad’s dad – had done, wasn’t going to affect my night.
“He needs surgery,” my mom says.
“Okay.” I nod. “That’s a shame. I’ll send him some flowers.”
Mom and Dad exchange a glance. “And he’s got a little trouble at work.”
Gramps is eighty-eight-years-old and is still working. He bought a hockey team in West Virginia twenty years ago, when everybody else his age was starting to enjoy retirement and taking cruises.
But hockey has always been Gramps’ life. The same way it’s everything to my dad and my brothers.
After years of being the most famous hockey player in Northern America he can’t bear to let go.
“What kind of trouble?” I ask.
