A VISIT HOME (Chapter 137)
Warren and Sophie returned to Oceanview for pretty much all of the month of August. Jessie came for part of the time, but was back in Wisconsin earlier than the other two. They worried about her being alone, but she didn't mind. “Believe me, I can't wait for you two to come back, but the peace and quiet is actually nice. Since I've never lived alone, it's a nice change, at least temporarily.”
The reason Warren and Sophie came home—besides visiting—was choreography. It was easier for them to secure all the ice time they needed in Oceanview than it was in Madison. Plus, their clients were used to coming to Boston, and they were all invited to stay with Warren's parents. “I love it, actually,” Peg told Warren. “That's why we don't mind doing it. It's fun, I get to meet all these skaters. And they're so nice, the ones you work with. I don't think I have to tell you how fond I am of Liz Cushman. And that I love Tom to pieces goes without saying.”
“Yeah, you love my skating clients staying here, but I'll bet Kristin loves it even more after last year,” Warren joked.
“No doubt,” Peg laughed. “I know you've seen some of it, but you haven't been around full time. Warren, he has been so good for her.”
“Yeah, I know. Tom's a great guy, just what Kristin needed.”
“I'm beginning to think that they are you and Sophie all over again.”
“I'd figured that out, yes. So how's Ryan?”
“Ryan is just fine,” Warren heard from behind him. Ryan was walking in the door. “How's it going, big brother?” They hugged.
“Not too bad, little brother.” Warren smirked at Peg. “Listen to me. Little brother. He's four inches taller than I am!”
“That's why I'm the basketball player and you're the ice dancer,” Ryan teased. “Where's my sister in law and my niece?”
“Over Sophie's. She sent me along ahead so I could catch up. We'll all be here for supper tonight. How's Georgia Tech?”
“Great,” Ryan said.
“Saw you play a little on TV.”
“Well, that's all I played this past year is a little,” Ryan grinned. “Next year will be different, though—our point guard last year was a senior, so the starting job's up for grabs, and I mean to grab it.”
“Great! How's the school part?”
“Hard, but fun. I've decided on electrical engineering as a major.”
“That's excellent. And how's Laurel?”
“Great!” Ryan said with real enthusiasm. “Things are going wonderfully. I worried, you know—our relationship really wasn't much until we got to school, because of the distance between us here. We knew we liked one another, but going to school and having each other close by was kind of a test, you know?” Warren nodded. “It's wonderful. Actually, it's perfect. We compliment each other very well. I was never a slacker, but I'm better at studying now. She was never an asocial nerd, but she loosens up better now. She's even turned into a fanatical basketball fan.”
“That's hilarious.”
“You should see if she can drive out here for dinner,” Peg asked. “We'll make it a big bash.”
“Let me call her,” Ryan said.
-----------
The dining room table at the Kellehers' was mighty crowded that evening. Peg and Jim, of course, were there, as were Warren, Sophie, and Betsy. Laurel was able to drive over and join them, as was Tom.
“Betsy's not bad at feeding herself,” Kristin commented. “A little messy, but not bad.”
“Love tatoes!” Betsy proclaimed.
“She does love potatoes,” Sophie grinned. “She's doing a number on the ham, too.”
“So,” Tom asked, “have you guys thought of any music for me yet?”
“Yeah,” Warren grinned, “I've narrowed it down to Malaguena or Carmen.” In other words, the two most overused pieces of music in skating history.
“Oh, thanks,” Tom grinned. “I thought you were creative.”
“I'm fascinated,” Laurel asked. “How do you pick music?”
“Mostly intuition, especially for us,” Warren said. “For other skaters, it's a combination of intuition, plus knowing someone else's skating.”
“He's absolutely brilliant at music,” Tom told her. “They're both fantastic choreographers, but I think that has something to do with just knowing what music to use. The music choices have stretched me—and I mean that in a good way. The music's made me a better skater.”
“When he goes to med school—and, especially after, when he's a resident—I'm going to have to do most of the day-to-day nitty-gritty choreography,” Sophia said, “but I told him he still has to find time to pick the music.”
“And I will,” Warren said. “But, as I was saying, you have to know the skaters some. Here's three examples. Tom, here, is good and getting better. We can stretch with him, but there are some limits. On one extreme from that, we can throw anything at Liz Cushman and she can handle it. On the other extreme—we're going to have to be very careful with Allison Bowman. She's never had a real program before—her coach has been doing her choreography, and he sucks.”
“Sounds like me before you got your hands on me,” Tom laughed.
“No, it was never that bad for you. Terri's not nearly as hopeless as Ron Aztov. She's a good coach, he is not. Plus, she had no problem with you working with us and integrated our choreography into your training. Ron's going to give Allison loads of shit about this,” Warren predicted.
“No doubt,” Tom agreed.
After dinner, the “kids” were all hanging around, just chatting. At one point, Ryan was in the bathroom and Tom and Kristin had taken Betsy for a walk, leaving Laurel alone with Warren and Sophie.
“You guys have been going out since you were very young, right?” Laurel asked them.
“Yeah, we were 14,” Sophie told her.
“And Ryan was how old then?”
“Eleven,” Warren said.
“So, he spent his whole adolescence with you two together,” Laurel said. “OK, now I understand.”
“Understand what?” Warren asked.
“How that big basketball-playing galoot boyfriend of mine somehow turned out to be a complete hopeless romantic,” Laurel smiled. “He was watching Big Brother.”
“Yes, he was,” Sophie laughed. “See, dear, you've set a good example.”
“He sure did. He dotes on you,” Laurel said.
“He's well-trained.”
“Ah, jeez,” Warren groaned.
-----------------------
Liz's choreography went like a dream. She decided to skate her long program to Peter Gabriel's “Passion.” It had been used before, but it was right up Liz's alley. She did an exhibition with them, too. Wanting something a bit dramatic and punchy but still poppy, Warren found for her Chantal Kreviazuk's “In This Life.” She loved it, and the exhibition was quickly done.
Tom was also not any trouble. He'd decided on Bach for his long program—a stretch, but a good one, and he and Warren and Sophia were all pleased with the program. The exhibition was David Lee Roth’s “Just A Gigolo.” Warren and Sophie almost kept that one for themselves, but decided it was better for Tom—and Tom was having a blast with it.
Allison Bowman was a completely different story.
The first problem was that apparently Ron Aztov, her coach, had been treating her as an unthinking, unfeeling robot. She had no say in her music, choreography, or movements, at all. Every finger movement was dictated by Ron. Because of that, she had no confidence in her ability to feel anything on the ice.
Warren decided to try an experiment—he decided to choreograph her exhibition first, to get her used to moving to music and trying to feel it before they tried adding the complicated technical requirements of her competitive program. The music Warren had picked for her exhibition was Stevie Nicks's “Has Anyone Ever Written Anything For You?”, a gorgeous piano ballad.
It was slow going. Allison started out wanting Warren and Sophia to dictate every movement to her. Finally, Warren said, “Allison. Just skate. Listen to the music and just skate. We'll worry about choreography later. Just skate to the music.”
She did, growing with confidence on every pass. It wasn't a program, yet, but it was a young skater grasping for her artistic 'voice'. She had musicality, Warren and Sophia had seen that from the start, but she'd never been allowed to draw on it. Warren was making her draw on it. It was working. On the second day, in the afternoon, Warren and Sophie moved in, and turned her innate movements into a program.
When that was done, they moved on to her competitive long program. Endeavoring to keep it simple, they had chosen Swan Lake for her music. She understood better, after having done the exhibition, and they were able to develop a program remarkably quickly. It didn’t lose any of her technical acumen, but it was much more complete artistically than anything she’d ever done.
Her mother flew out to fetch her on the last day. After she saw the programs, she turned to Warren and Sophia and said, “I don’t know much about skating. But even I can see the difference. Thank you. And I’m so glad her exhibition is passionate and beautiful instead of suggestive.” She gave Warren and Sophia a wry grin. “Then again, you two did passionate and beautiful when you were naked, so why should I be surprised?” They both chuckled at that. “How do you feel, Allison?” she asked her daughter.
“Great! This really was an education. I feel like I’ve learned more about artistry in a week than I have in my entire career.”
“Good,” Sophie said. “Now. If you need any help, you get a hold of us. If you want us to watch something at Skate America or something, we will. And don’t take any shit from Ron Aztov!”
“I won’t!” she promised.
-------
After all that, it was time to work on their own programs.
They had made a decision. After what happened at Worlds—even with the apparent changes in the ISU—they decided to pick their programs based on themselves first, the audience second, and the judges not at all. They’d done that all along to some degree, but they really did it this year.
First were the orignal dances. The first one was a shuffle. They picked Ringo Starr’s version of “You’re Sixteen” for that. It was a happy, cute, lighthearted program.
The second OD was a rhumba. Rhumbas are supposed to be pretty steamy. Sophie and Warren went for steamy, all right, choosing to skate to Sade’s “Smooth Operator.” They tweaked that program quite a bit, looking for a good balance between technical content and the inherent artistic sensuality of it.
The free dance? That was another story entirely.
Sophie and Warren had skirted around it before, but never crossed the unspoken line. Big Band was fine, Sinatra was fine, modern classical of the Copland variety was fine. Riverdance worked. Romeo and Juliet straddled the line, but that was a ballad.
But skating to full-out rock and roll was not done in ice dance. The theory was that the, as Sophie called them, “old fuddy-duddy judges” wouldn’t go for it. Warren and Sophia decided not to care. Mindful of where this year’s World Championships were to be held—East Rutherford, NJ, at the Meadowlands—they went right for the jugular, and with a regional twist.
Their free dance would be all Bruce Springsteen. And not any of his ballads, either. Two rockers, albeit with different beats: “Ramrod” and “Give The Girl A Kiss.” They took the sax solo of Ramrod and choreographed an absolutely stunning serpentine step sequence to it. The side-by-side steps were later, to Give The Girl A Kiss. The program as a whole just never stopped moving. They were thrilled with it.
“Well, if you want to rock out, you’ve accomplished that,” June, their coach, laughed.
“It’s just time to rock out, we think,” Sophia told her. “Hey, if we win, we win. If we don’t, we don’t. But we’ll have the crowd on our sides!”