I flattened my lips and cast my eyes down. "I may have been."
"I apologize, sweetheart." He ran a tired hand down his face. "About the gymnastics..."
"Yeah?"
"Listen, it's not that I don't want you to do it, it's that I don't want you moving so far away on your own. You're still young and the world is a dangerous place. What if something happened to you? I wouldn't be able to get to you fast enough."
My voice softened over his concern. "Dad, you're always traveling for work." My words caused him to wince, and I instantly felt terrible for stating the fact. But it was the truth, and I had to get my point across. "What would be the difference?"
He ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "You're right. I do travel a lot for work, and I'm sorry I'm not around enough, but the difference is I'm an experienced adult and you're not."
I slouched in defeat. "I know. I was just hoping you'd give it some thought. It's not like I'd be completely alone. I'd live in a shared apartment with a den mom and other gymnasts."
"Not your mom, though. I don't even know those women, Adrianna. You're my daughter, I can't trust them with you."
I gave him a serious look. "Dad, we both know Mom isn't the kind of mother to do something like that for me." The kind of mother who gives and does anything for her children to see them thrive. Joy Rossi had more important things on her agenda.
My dad sighed. "You've put up a good argument and I have thought about it." I perked up. "I might have a compromise. I have a business associate on the West Coast who happens to coach gymnastics. Let me give him a call and see what he says."
My jaw dropped. "The West Coast, Dad? You'll send me all the way to California, but not New Hampshire?"
"Not California, the west coast of Florida. Cape Coral. You know, three hours from here? Not fifteen hundred miles."
I paused, pursing my lips together. "You have a friend who's a coach? How did I not know this?"
"You met him when you were younger, though you probably don't remember. He bought some real estate from me many years ago and we've always stayed in touch. Every so often we'll flip a house together, or he'll ask for advice on property. His name is Konstantin."
The name didn't ring any bells. "What level does he coach?"
"That I don't know. I only know he's a former Russian Olympian and is good at what he does."
Hope sprouted inside of me to the point I couldn't contain my smile. Russians were crazy, their gymnastics training even crazier, which caused my stomach to flutter with anxiety. I wouldn't complain, I'd take what I could.
Beggars couldn't be choosers.
"I can't believe you didn't tell me this sooner."
"His past doesn't come up in our real-estate transactions. I didn't know you weren't happy at your current gym," he countered. "If you'd told me your coaches weren't cutting it, Konstantin could've stepped in sooner."
Touché.
"When are you going to call him? Can you call now? Please?" Enthusiastically, I shook his arm and jumped, bobbing on my knees. "Dad!"
He chuckled at my eagerness, the light in his eyes returning. My dad and I had the same exact shade of green eyes. I resembled him the most. From my dark hair, thin straight nose, and skin tone, we were very similar. And just like my dad, when I got excited about something, my eyes turned a brilliant jade color. Although, I wasn't sure where the deep crimson tones in my hair or freckles came from.
He faked a sigh, restraining a smile. "Come into my office and I'll give him a call."
"Really?" I shrieked. When he nodded, I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. "Oh, thank you, Dad! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
He patted my back lovingly. I jumped from my bed and trailed closely behind. Once we were back in his office, I plopped down into a studded leather chair in front of his desk. I placed my hands under my thighs so I didn't fidget while my father got situated.
And by situated, I mean pouring himself a glass of bourbon.
"All right, remind me again what level you are. What’s the goal you want to achieve?"
Sadness crept inside me. I wish he knew without me having to remind h
im. The man could spout off twenty different business transactions from the top of his head, but he couldn't retain a few facts about his daughter.