Chapter Text
Meryl Davis felt like the pause button on her existence had been pressed for far too long. When her younger self had imagined what life would be like at twenty-seven she had never quite envisaged it this way; in her mind’s eye she was either storming her way to Olympic glory or completing her graduate degree and well on the way to becoming Dr Davis, anthropology professor. No, she’d certainly never imagined herself as Meryl Davis, skating coach… and single mother of one.
It had taken time, support and a hell of a lot of therapy but she’d finally come to the point in her life where the decision to leave the security of her parents’ suburban Detroit home felt like a realistic prospect. Living there since life as she’d known it had stopped back in 2009 had felt like the right thing at the time, but despite her parents’ misgivings about her ability to cope alone, she wanted to make a fresh start, for her – and for Robbie.
Glancing sideways in the taxi Meryl took in the wide brown eyes of her four year old son as he gazed excitedly at the unfamiliar urban landscape of New Jersey for the first time. It was all just a big adventure to him – he’d been sad to leave Nannie and Papa behind, but the concept that it was any longer than a weekend was alien to him and he hadn’t really grasped why all the adults in his life had suddenly been reduced to quivering wrecks as they’d waved goodbye at the airport.
The decision to move East hadn’t been taken lightly. She’d spent weeks of nights tossing and turning; one minute thinking she was crazy for even contemplating leaving Michigan behind, and the next wondering if it was the fresh start she’d been dreaming of seemingly for years. The opportunity had come somewhat out of the blue; she’d been coaching with Marina ever since she’d recovered from giving birth. It was the sole realistic option she’d had for work with only an undergraduate degree in anthropology, no previous work experience, and a child to support. As much as she’d never imagined coaching, especially at a time of her life where she’d considered she’d still be competing, she soon found herself to be pretty adept at it, and her choreography for several of Marina’s junior teams had soon won her praise, not only at a national level, but internationally when one of her teams used Meryl’s programs to win the World Junior title. Scarcely a month later and Marina had called her into her office for “a little chat” in which it transpired that the owner of the Ice House in New Jersey had called, enquiring about Meryl and wondering about the possibility of her heading up their ice dance program.
Impossible.
Her first reaction had been to immediately discount the possibility; a trait her once competitive self would have blanched at. It had taken Marina several days of completely unsubtle hints (subtlety for Marina was somewhat akin to quantum physics) for her to even mention the idea to her parents.
And so here she was two months later – her and Robbie’s entire lives packed into a few little suitcases, ready to start their new life in New Jersey. And for the first time, she didn’t have anyone to hold her hand.