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The Moonstone Starlet

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The ceilings were low. Long coffered ceiling crowns cut across the rooms, closing them in more. The windows were obscured by long dense draperies. The walls were lined with built in shelves suffocating the space. In the kitchen the ceilings were vaulted along the far wall above the windows, but Elia couldn't stop looking at the dated countertops and kitchen cabinets. The most redeeming quality of the penthouse unit was the balcony overlooking where the harbor met the river. She was standing out on the balcony when Brad walked out and put his arms around her.
“So, what do you think?” He said, as he kissed the top of her head. She tried to think of a nice way to put how she felt. It looked like it was designed in 1991 and the maple railing on the stairs made her throw up a little in her mouth? That might have been a little harsh.
“Bradley I think we should look at some other places,” She said, putting her hands around his neck. He was clearly disappointed by the response. She could tell he loved the condo. But to be honest, she didn't think he should even be looking to buy. The Bruins still hadn't completed a contract with him for the season. He was confident it would get done, and didn't seem to be worried about it. Elia was worried about it. After losing Niemi in 2010, she would always be worried about hockey contracts.
“Maybe we could check out some other neighborhoods? Claire at the coffee shop was telling me that Jamaica Plain is a really cool area to live in!” Elia smiled enthusiastically. He sighed. They had been looking for a new place for the past week, and had discovered they had very different taste in architecture and design. Now Elia was throwing a whole new variable into the equation.
“This neighborhood is so homogenous,” She lamented.
“What does that even mean?” Brad asked.
“We can sign a nine month lease somewhere, and then we will both be more familiar with the city at the end and--”
“--Alright, I'll think about it.” He relented.

On the way back to the apartment they picked up some take out. They sat on the couch eating dinner while some Tom Cruise movie played on tv. Elia opened some of the mail she had brought from Chicago.
“Oh babe, we have been invited to the Tiff premiere of The Descendants, when is your Cup day?” Elia said, looking at a card she just opened.
“August 29th. What is Tiff? What are you talking about?”

The Toronto International Film Festival was a major fest for films looking to pick up a distributor or garner buzz for the coming awards season. This year it was the second week of September. George Clooney had sent them tickets to The Descendants screening and was personally inviting them. Brad, though impressed that his name was actually included on the card, did not seem thrilled.
“Brad, this is really important to go to. Not just because its a major faux pas to turn down Clooney, but it's important to go to fests and talk to other film makers and get the word on good projects. Tiff screens some of the best films of any of the fests. Will you go with me?”
“To a film festival?”
“What did you think was going to happen when you started dating an actress?” She put the mail down on the coffee table. She put her arm around Brad's neck and started kissing him below his ear.
“Maybe I could go to Toronto,” he said, smiling. She slipped her hand into his pants.
“Alright let's go to Tiff!” Brad announced. Elia sat back up and picked her mail back up. Brad looked back at her astonished,“What's happening?” Elia looked back at him grinning, “You'll get the rest when we get to Toronto.” He stared at her for a minute before turning back to the movie. Every so often he glanced back at Elia, then after several minutes he took his shirt off. “What are you doing?” Elia asked, looking at him. Brad shrugged, and said it was hot in the apartment. He stood up and walked a few steps away from the couch and put his hands behind his head. Elia stared at him. “What, I'm just stretching,” Brad smiled. Elia got off the couch so fast she almost tripped on the coffee table, and walked over to put her hands on Brad's waist. “Ohh, now you want to get on this?” He said laughing. She pulled her shirt over head, and their hands bumped into each other as they started trying to undo pants at the same time. With his jeans still around his ankles he picked her up and pushed her against the exposed brick wall.

On the day the Stanley Cup was planned to travel to Nova Scotia, a hurricane had also planned to travel to the coast. There were no planes leaving the ground, and they ended up driving up through Maine and taking a ferry across to the peninsula. The mood at the house was anxious. Though the family had made it inland, the Cup itself was still traveling somewhere. They went to sleep not knowing if there would be a Cup day in the morning. Brad was woken early by a phone call. The Cup was en route to the house. For Elia, there was an initial rush of excitement seeing how happy Brad was to have the Cup at his house, but it started to feel like being on set for a movie. Everyone sat around in the living room where photos were taken and cameras were rolling. Elia found herself standing next to professional cup handler Walt Neubrand while Brad poured his breakfast into the cup.
“You must have some of the most interesting stories,” she mused, “How much do they pay you for your silence?” He made eye contact with her, smiled, and said nothing. He was good.

She walked outside in the front yard after a while to make a phone call.
“I've been watching Brad eat Cinnamon Toast Crunch for forty minutes. Was your Cup day this exciting?”
“I didn't have time for games like that El, I was busy having a lake named after me.” Jonathan replied.
“And I know Sharpie's drooly basset hound thing ate dog food out of it last year, so it's like...That's kind of weird, you know? But even worse than that, Seguin took it in the shower with him.”
“The alcohol that is constantly poured in there sanitizes it. Just keep reminding yourself of that.”
“I'm still going to go for that cinnamon milk once he's done though.”

“Elly?” Brad's voice was calling her from the front steps. She turned around and hung up the phone. “We need you for some pictures,” he continued. She walked over to the front door. “Who you talking to?” He asked her. “I just had to ask Tazer something,” She replied. Brad looked a little annoyed, but didn't say anything else. Back inside the Stanley Cup was placed on the couch between Brad's mom and sisters. His father and brother stood behind the sofa. Everyone had been told to wear a white shirt, and they all stood together color coordinated. Brad took his place beside them, and Elia was shuffled back and forth by the photographer before finally being seated next to one of Brad's sisters. For fifteen minutes they sat with smiles plastered on their faces while the photographers took pictures at multiple angles.

Once satisfied the group was herded out to a white suburban that drove them down to the start of a small parade route. A black hummer was waiting to drive Brad around town. He stood in the back with the Cup as they drove. Elia and the family were in another car following behind. They reminisced on growing up and Brad playing junior hockey in Halifax. Elia tried to keep up, but felt awkward having to ask who people were or what something was every few moments. After a while she zoned out, staring out the window. She found herself imagining what it would have been like to go to Buffalo with Kaner on his day with the Cup. He would have made her eat half the cinnamon toast crunch. They probably would have added some rum to that bowl. If she had been with Toews on his day one of them probably would have ended up in Lake Jonathan Toews. She didn't know how much time had actually passed when the cars stopped moving. There was a small stage set up in a park plaza full of people. They filtered out of the cars and were led up to the stage. They smiled for pictures. Brad carried up the Cup and said some words into a microphone. People cheered. They smiled for pictures. Brad was taking the Cup into the crowd now, meeting fans and letting them touch the Cup while Neubrand watched over his shoulder.
Reporters were interviewing the family members, and had plenty of questions for Elia. He was an agitator on the ice, what was he like off the ice? Did he have any pre-game rituals? They all knew how he had won the Stanley Cup, but how had he won her heart? She regurgitated pre-authorized sound-bytes written by Brad's PR rep, smiling warmly. Elia had earned a reputation for speaking off the cuff in her career in the public eye. It was one reason she had gotten along with Kanye West so well. You couldn't tell them nothing. There was a period of time when she was running through a new publicist every few months because they kept quitting on her. It felt strange to be acting in real life, portraying another person's perception of Brad and their relationship. But what were a few white-washed answers here and there? Beyond the camera lens she was still the same person.

They took the Cup to a health center in the afternoon, and finally to a party in the evening with family and friends. A restaurant in downtown Halifax had been rented out for dinner with drinks to follow. It was a laid back affair, full of laughter and cheer. After a few drinks Brad's friends from school and junior hockey took it upon themselves to try and knock his ego down a bit by reminding him how awkward and uncool he was growing up. He laughed along with them and assured Elia it was all lies. Everyone finished eating and the party shifted to an outdoor patio where people could walk around and chat. Brad put his arm around Elia's shoulders and they walked around the crowd together. Elia had been incredibly awkward and uncool growing up. She had still never learned how to make small talk or really have a conversation with a stranger, and she probably would never have to. People never asked her about herself, they were more interested in the movies and asking about other celebrities. As the night went on the older folks headed home, while the younger crowd got more raucous. They stood outside at a table playing flippy cup for a while, before sitting and just hanging out. Brad sat at one end of the table, with the Stanley Cup sitting to one side, and Elia Downs sitting next to him on the other side.

Notes

This is a short one, but I should be updating again soon. thanks for reading :)

Comments

Well. There goes my reason for coming to the site. Brava on being done! Hope you find inspiration to write another story.

DELETED DELETED
4/27/15

omg its done.... what am i gonna read now :( So good girl!

hockeygirl07 hockeygirl07
4/26/15

What an amazing story. I can't believe it is over.

runawaycherry93 runawaycherry93
4/26/15

aweeeeeeeee

hockeygirl07 hockeygirl07
4/26/15

That was beautiful!!! Made me teary. Is this the end?

KWeber8771 KWeber8771
4/26/15