I wanted to see him right this second, but I knew pushing him was a bad idea. If space was what he needed, then I would give him space. I tried to focus on now. The hours weren’t going to pass any quicker because I was obsessing over them. I stopped staring blankly at the screen of my laptop, my relapsed focus sharpening, and continued to read my dad’s email. He had found me a new trainer, and not just any trainer—Olga Nikolaev was an international award winning superstar. She was Russian and as far as I was concerned, she was the best. She had only retired from competitive skating a year earlier at only thirty two and I knew her high demand would be through the roof. My dad being my dad had out paid them all. I was meeting her at 12p.m. Saturday. I emailed back with a swift thanks but no thanks and told him my university coaches would do just fine. I didn’t need to wait long for a reply. My cell rang out on the desk next to the computer screen, my dad’s display name making me rub my hand across my forehead in exasperation.
