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But it is just that—a feeling.
“Is there anything else?” I now ask, because jumping and injections feels like par for the course when you’re a ski jumper. I can tell by the tone of his voice that something feels off. He isn’t telling me the whole story.
“There are a few guys missing from the team,” Nick starts, his voice low, like he’s worried someone will hear him. “No one’s talking about it and when I asked, I was told we all signed a nondisclosure agreement. Like what the fuck does that have to do with anyone leaving the team?”
“Okay, that does sound strange. Did you sign the same agreement? Maybe it’s just to protect the team when they cut people. You know, so they can’t go around talking shit about the team?”
“Yeah, I don’t know, Lis. I think I’m just bitter because I don’t want to be here.”
“I get that but try to make the most of it. Train hard while you’re there. Maybe do some networking to see if you can make some professional connections for when you leave. Might help you get a job once the lawyer gets you out of your contract.” I’m trying to be positive, but holy shit it’s hard, especially after hearing that Nick is having reservations about the team in general.
“Yeah, I’m trying,” Nick mutters. “Sorry, Lis, how’s the baby doing? You feeling okay?” He changes the subject, a little happiness seeping into his words when he asks about the baby. We both love talking about the baby and how excited we are.
“Baby is good. Cooking away in my belly. Harper told me I might be able to feel the baby move soon.”
“For real? That’s awesome. You’ll have to update me on what it’s like when you feel it,” Nick says, and I can tell he’s smiling now.
We chat for a little while longer, avoiding talking about his concerns about jumping and his knee even though they’re still front and center in my mind.
I still can’t believe we broke up all those years ago and now here we are, having a baby, happy and totally in love. It’s been rough being apart, but I’m so looking forward to visiting him soon. Despite both of us wanting him to come home, I’m a little excited about seeing the training center and meeting the other athletes Nick is training with.
But even with my excitement, my thoughts keep coming back to what Nick said about the missing teammates and the coach and the doctor pushing him to do more than he’s comfortable with. It does feel off.
My laptop is sitting on the coffee table in front of me, calling at me to do some research on the coach and Nick’s teammates. After meeting the coach that first time and feeling like he was just there to bully me, treating me poorly in an effort to get me to turn on Nick. It wasn’t going to happen no matter what that coach said.
It just goes to show me that the coach is sneaky and possibly up to something, and the doctor is working with him too.
I laugh out loud at how ridiculous I sound, like I’m some sort of whistleblower with my internet research. Even if it is ridiculous, I still begin to look up what I can about the team and the coach and the doctor.
Before I know it,an hour has passed, and I’ve found nothing more than a bunch of articles talking about the coach’s accomplishments and Olympic champions singing his praises.
I shoot a few links to Nick, telling him that our feelings might be wrong since everything is just positive. I want to ask Nick about the teammates that are gone, wanting to Google them too, but I don’t want to make nothing into something.
Heading into the kitchen, I make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, something that has become a pregnancy craving ever since I ate all those mini ones at the ski lodge. They seem to help keep the nausea at bay and there’s no stopping a craving at this point. I swear I’d kill someone for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I take my sandwich into the living room, switching on the TV, set to watch a rom com as a distraction from missing Nick, but I just can’t stop thinking about the teammates who left.
They didn’t just leave. They disappeared as if they were never even there. At least that’s the way Nick made it sound, no one talking about them and when he asked, it was very hush-hush.
Maybe that’s what happened when Nick hurt his knee and came back to Badger Creek. His teammates saw his injury, but it might be something that no one talks about. Like the idea that talking about it might make it come true for someone else.
I’m grasping, but my thoughts just won’t seem to settle down. And once again I find myself wrapped up in Google, searching for people who used to be part of the US team of jumpers.
It’s like a rabbit hole of nonsense and pointless crap. Instagram pages of people who want to be professionals, articles from twenty years ago about former jumpers, ads for gear and tons and tons of information about the team.
I find myself going through pictures of Nick on the team’s site and being so damn proud of him. There are action shots of him mid-jump, him sticking landings and then there are ones of him decked out in Holden gear.
The guy was born to be a ski jumper, but he was also born to be a damn model. He could sell ski gear to someone on the beach with how fucking hot he looks. He’s wearing a tight-fitting shirt, showcasing the outline of his muscled chest and arms. His hair is pulled back, a serious expression on his face, making him look like the face of the US team. The girls had to be knocking each other over just to talk to him.
As I’m admiring my hot baby daddy, thinking I might head into my bedroom, I find a picture of the entire team and there are two people I can’t seem to find in any of the other stills from the site.
I take a screenshot of it, and click on edit, circling the two guys. I send it to Nick asking him who they are.
Me:Who are these two? They’re nowhere on the team site.
Nick: What are you doing? Trying to find a new boyfriend?
Me: NEVER! Just creeping on the team site, looking at pictures of my hot baby daddy.
