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Watching children skate was supposed to be easy for Yakov. He’d watched hundreds of young Soviet boys and girls skate, as his coach groomed Yakov as his successor. Following his coach's example, he planned to only accept those he thought had the very highest potential, though his coach considered it a great privilege when he recommended another coach for them and the student went on to prove him wrong.
Eight to thirteen was the window his coach advised him to look at. He wasn’t interested in teaching kids how to skate in straight lines or fall on their asses without crying or needing babying. After thirteen, if they hadn’t been brought to his attention before, it was unlikely there would ever be a reason. He was always glad to be proved wrong, and there had been a case or two where he’d taken an older student he’d looked at previously whose hard work showed that Yakov had misjudged the ceiling.
He’d come to Moscow to look at a nine-year-old boy his good friend Alexei was coaching, who he hoped would be his first independent student. Radoslav was good, Yakov couldn’t argue, but not great. Besides, Yakov kept getting distracted by another child on the ice. “Tell me about her, Alexei.”
Alexei followed Yakov’s eyes, and he smiled when he realized who Yakov was looking at. “You don’t want her. Not yet. I was going to give you a call in a couple years, when Irishka turns eight. Her father put her on skates the second she could walk, and she took to it like a firebird to flame.”
“Eight’s not a hard limit. She’s got the basic skills. As far as skating, I’d be asking you to arrange a meeting with her parents as soon as possible. Tell me about her.”
Alexei raised an eyebrow. “Like I said, she’s been skating as long as she’s been walking. Like any young child, she complains when asked to work when she’d rather play, but she considers quite a bit of skating to be playtime. Her technical skills are very strong, but you’ll want to guide her away from trying to tell stories through her skating. The biggest problem I’ve ever had with her is when she tried to get back out on the ice too quickly after a sprained ankle.” He broke into a teasing grin. “She certainly fits the mold of your students. Strong-willed, stubborn, she’s going to be a handful when she gets into her teen years. Her mother does very little to try to control her, and her father gives her everything he can. They’re not wealthy, but they should be able to find a way to pay you until she’s eligible for state sponsorship.”
Yakov nodded. As Alexei said, his skaters tended to be handfuls. If she wasn’t a weakling or a crybaby, she’d be just fine with him now. “Discipline I can handle. Has she had any dance training?”
“She’s Russian,” Alexei scoffed. “I don’t know that she’d meet Bolshoi standards, but of course she’s been taught the basics of ballet.”
Very few of Yakov’s students would end up meeting Bolshoi standards. If they did, they would be taken for ballet instead of skating. That was not going to be a problem. Even from here, Yakov could tell that Irishka had flexibility and grace, and the dance instructor he planned to work with, the same as his coach had, had molded worse into strong dancers - for example, Yakov. “Set up a meeting with her parents. What are their names?”
Nothing could have prepared him for the answer. “Nikolai Fyodorovich and Elena Stepanovna Plisetsky.”
It had been years since Yakov had spoken to Nikolai. Nikolai’s father had been his tutor when he was skating, and encouraged the boys to become friends. Through adolescence, they were best friends, partners in crime, and closer than brothers. But when Nikolai turned eighteen, he started shutting Yakov out. Yakov hadn’t understood. Sure, of course, Kolya would have a soulmate to spend time with, but why should that mean he didn’t have time for his best friend anymore?
He got the answer on his eighteenth birthday, staring at his best friend in his dream. “Is this why you shut me out?”
“Yes.” Nikolai reached out, pulling Yakov into a hug. “I miss you so much, Yasha, but you know it has to be this way. My father’s already one false step from being kicked out of the party. If his son is responsible for the most promising figure skater in the Soviet Union throwing away his career…”
“For a boy, at that.” Yakov clung to Kolya. “I’d do it, if it were just me and you on the line, but it’s not. It’s Coach Dmitriyevich. It’s your papa. It has to be this way. I wish you’d found a way to explain this to me earlier, so I wouldn’t have made it so hard for you.”
“I know. I’m sorry, too.”
Starting tomorrow, Yakov would have to pretend his best friend didn’t exist. He’d do it, out of duty to his country, but it would hurt. “In your dream, did we…?”
Nikolai shook his head. “It was going to be hard enough for me without remembering anything like that. If you want to, I won’t remember, it won’t make it any harder for me, so do what’s right for you.”
It was a tough call. He could see Nikolai’s point about not wanting to deal with the memories, but which would be worse? Dealing with the memories, or dealing with the regrets? Yakov couldn’t decide, so he put his faith in his friend. If Nikolai hadn’t wanted to deal with the memories, he had a good point. Yakov would follow his example.
Given that, Yakov found Nikolai pushing his daughter to skate to be weird. Still, she was talented, and if Yakov didn’t claim her some other coach would. Surely Nikolai would prefer Yakov to take Irina, if she must be taken? Eleven years might have changed his old friend.
Nikolai greeted him at the door. “Please, come in, sit down. My wife, Lenka.” Irina had gotten most of her looks from her mother, and Yakov said as much. “Yes, Irishka is quite fortunate there, beauty is quite beneficial to a skater. I’m a bit surprised to see you so soon, but I had hoped you would be the one to come when it was time. I’ve followed your career with keen interest, you know.”
“I didn’t come to Moscow for her, but once I saw her skating… if you would prefer to wait a year or two before sending her away, I understand, but send her to me when the time comes.” Nikolai’s behavior was surprising him. After being hurt so badly by figure skating… but then, maybe it had never hurt Nikolai the way it hurt Yakov.
“No. I knew the signs, and I’ve been preparing her for this. Give us a month to help her realize that ‘someday’ is ‘now’, and she’ll be ready to go.” Yakov raised an eyebrow. “Of course, it’s only natural for the parents of an athlete to be curious about their child’s progress. I’ll expect letters.”
“Of course.” He remembered watching his coach do that once a month, writing progress letters to all the parents of his students. What he didn’t understand was why Nikolai was so enthused about this.
A look from Nikolai, and Elena got to her feet, closing blinds and checking the door before making sure it was closed tightly as well. “The world is changing, Yakov. Rumor has it there will be elections next year to determine our leader, instead of the Communist party having all the say. The Party is having trouble with unrest in other countries, and is not policing as hard here at home. It’s not safe, not yet, for more than letters and perhaps a phone call once in a while, but the time is coming where it may be. As a coach, you would be permitted to have attachments, even a wife and children if you wish.”
“That doesn’t solve the problem of us being men, Kolya.” Yakov looked over at Elena. “What about your wife?”
“Kolya told me the truth about his soulmate. My soulmate is an American. I’d rather be with him, but you can imagine how well that would go over, so I did the respectable thing and found a good man who couldn’t be with his soulmate either. If things work out the way Kolya hopes, I plan to leave for America. If not, then I certainly wouldn’t blame Kolya for leaving me for you anyway. At the very least, if you don’t feel safe doing something openly, I’ll help hide evidence of an affair.”
“I’ll think about it,” Yakov said. “When I come back for Irina in a month, we can talk more.”
It had seemed like a good idea at the time, confiding in his coach and asking for advice. After all, he’d talked to his coach before about Nikolai being his soulmate and how he wished things were different enough to allow them to be together, and his coach had seemed sympathetic. Whether he was or not, though, before Yakov could even start putting serious thought into anything, he was called into meetings with various officials of the Communist Party and the Soviet Skating Federation. While nobody came out and said anything threatening, it became very clear that Yakov would not have the support a new coach should if he chose to be with Nikolai.
Instead, he was pushed toward a prima ballerina, one whose soulmate was equally unacceptable for such a high-profile representative of the Soviet Union. Lilia was everything Yakov had been told as a child he should hope for in a soulmate. Yakov agreed to marry her, but would not go along with the scheme of declaring that the two were soulmates who had deferred their own happiness for the good and glory of the Soviet Union. In that much, at least, he could remain true to Nikolai.
Nikolai was disappointed, but unsurprised as Yakov explained when he came back for Irina. As promised, Yakov wrote letters about Irina’s progress under his tutelage, and he did at least find a way to slip a far more personal message in with them. Risky, but not too risky, he felt.
Naturally, he told Lilia what he was doing. Lilia had no problem with the situation, and explained hers – her soulmate was a Japanese girl twenty years younger than her, who for many reasons she’d never even tried to find. Things got a bit awkward when a Japanese dancer auditioned for and was accepted to the Bolshoi. Lilia was able to cover her interest in the girl as simply acting as a mentor, but she told Yakov the truth – the girl was her soulmate. Minako seemed happy enough to ignore that, so she wasn’t going to bring it up, but she thought Yakov deserved the truth.
When Irina retired from skating, and Lilia’s restlessness drove her away, Yakov fell into something of a funk. He couldn’t let himself abandon the skaters he still had, but he wanted to. Lilia wasn’t his soulmate, but he had loved her in a fashion, and now there was that gaping hole. With Irina gone, there was no longer an excuse to correspond with Nikolai. Life became rather dull – as dull as it could be with skaters like Misha and Vitya driving him to premature baldness, anyway.
Yakov had never cared for Lev, but it was still a shock when the letter came from Nikolai telling him what the bastard had done to Irina, leaving her pregnant, penniless, and alone. “She doesn’t want me to tell you, but please, if you can spare a few days, I need someone to lean on so I can be the strength she needs from me.” That troubled Yakov, and he told his oldest skater, Evgeni, to take charge at the rink for a few days, with special instructions to keep an eye on young Vitya. The boy’s mother had been recently diagnosed with cancer, and between that and his age, it was to be expected that Vitya would start acting out.
Irina was annoyed to see him, although grateful when he promised to do what he could to help her get through this. The bigger surprise, though, was that Elena wasn’t there. After Irina went to bed, Nikolai poured the two men some vodka. “She finally left last year. Her soulmate’s wife left him, so they could be together after all this time, and she decided to take her chance. I wish her well, but Irina is so furious with her mother that she refuses to even tell her.”
“But you did, didn’t you? About her grandchild?”
Nikolai shook his head. “She isn’t likely to come back, even for a few days. To her, Irina was always my child, she was just the caretaker. At best, she might be willing to help hunt down Lev and give him the slow and painful surgery he deserves.”
Yakov flinched. On impulse, he blurted out, “Come to Saint Petersburg, Kolya. You and Irishka both.”
“You know we won’t take charity, Yasha. I have work here, and Irishka will find work once she’s had her baby. I’m getting old. My back is starting to cause problems for me, and my health is…”
“It doesn’t matter, dammit, Kolya. It’s not charity when it’s from your soulmate!” Yakov stopped in shock at what he’d just said. He hadn’t quite meant to go that far. “You know I can find work for Irishka working for me, or reconnect her with old sponsors who could find work for her in modeling. If nothing else, I have a young skater who would benefit from having someone who knows the pitfalls he’s headed toward and can help him through better than I can. There’s work in Saint Petersburg, even for an old man with failing health, I know it.”
“And what of the soulmate thing, Yasha?” Kolya asked so quietly that Yakov could barely hear him.
It was a good question. A fair one. “Perhaps the time has come when there’s nothing for us to fear. Things have changed a great deal from the old days, and even if they start changing back, Russia needs me more than I need Russia. Elena is gone, Lilia is gone… there’s nothing to stop us from being together as soulmates, unless you can’t forgive my cowardice from back then.”
“I will talk it over with Irishka. She may not take it well. I’ll let you know.”
Yakov fully expected a refusal. In all honesty, he felt he deserved it for not having reached out to Kolya before. Before Lilia left, that was one thing, but he could have reached out in the years since. He could see why Irina would not be happy – her father’s soulmate coming out of the woodwork now, after her soulmate had turned out to be so horrible. If Nikolai chose the daughter who needed him so badly over the soulmate who clearly didn’t, he couldn’t blame his old friend for that.
His visit was planned for a week. On his last night there, Irina came to him. “Papa says you want us to come with you.”
“Yes. I do. Both of you deserved so much better than you got from your soulmates.”
“And this is supposed to make up for everything?” Irina snapped. “You feel guilty and think throwing money at this will solve your problems?”
“I feel guilty, yes, but I’m not throwing money and walking away here. I can’t change the past, but I can avoid prolonging the mistakes. You know I consider my skaters my family. Even without your father being an old friend, I would try to help you. Please allow me to.”
Irina left without a word, but in the morning, Yakov found a bag he recognized as Irina’s with his luggage. “Irina may as well go with you now,” Nikolai explained. “She can begin looking for work and a place for us to live, or if you and she can agree to terms, begin working for you right away. I have commitments here, but I will be there by the end of the month, I hope.”
“You three are welcome to live with me. I hope you will.” Yakov put a hand on Nikolai’s shoulder, heart pounding as he asked, “What are we doing?”
“We will, Yasha.” Nikolai reached up and wrapped his hand around Yakov’s, moving it up to his face. “I’m curious. What happened in your dream?”
“Nothing. I followed your lead in not making memories to haunt me.”
“Good. Then this is a first for both of us.” Nikolai pulled Yakov in for a kiss. “It’s about time we got to do that.”