The Moonstone Starlet

Chapter 49

It wasn't part of her plan for the day but Elia ended up catching a baseball game with Biz at the Cell. "I shouldn't even be here," she kept saying. At a Sox game. With a Coyotes player. "Get over it, I hardly even play." Paul would reply. She would never admit it but she liked going to games on the south side. They had more beer options, better food. Weird pinwheels in the outfield. Still, she really shouldn't have been there. She had put a hat on and sunglasses, the usual celebrity disguise, and for the most part it worked. Unfortunately, Paul was being recognized, and that was leading to questions about Elia. Who else would he be with wearing a Blackhawks hoodie? It also didn't help that their seats were behind home plate and Elia kept heckling the White Sox catcher. It was her duty as a Cubs fan to yell things at A.J. Pierzynski, she couldn't help it.
"Okay, so Torres wants to meet tonight at Chicago Chop House." Paul said, reading from his phone. He had agreed to help mediate a meeting between the two of them. Elia was displeased.
"Is there anything more boring than a steak restaurant?" She asked rhetorically.
"That's where you go if you want a steak." Paul replied.
"Like, I could get us tickets to Next and they're doing an El Bulli menu right now. Tluhis guy just wants a big piece of meat." She continued.
"You're doing that snobby thing that you do sometimes El. Nobody else even cares what El Bulli is."
Elia scowled at him. It was bad enough having to apologize to the prick but now she was going to have to take him out to dinner at the most expensive steak house in the city. She wondered if they would let her in dressed the way she was, but that wasn't likely. It wouldn't be hard to throw on a dress though.
“No, it's perfect for us. A small family place, good food. Everyone minds his business. Perfect. They've got an old-fashioned toilet. You know, the box and chain thing.” Elia started to say.
“Is that from the Godfather? Are we having Torres whacked? Damn,” Paul said shaking his head and laughing.
That would have been a lot easier as far as Elia was concerned. At least for her.

When Elia got home from the Sox game the house was quiet. All the animals were sleeping in a pile on the couch and couldn't be bothered to greet her. Jon was nowhere to be seen. She found a surprise waiting for her on the kitchen counter: her cell phone. It had been so nice to be without it she was almost hoping it got lost in the ambulance or something. She picked it up and unlocked it, expecting to have a million messages. There were a dozen voicemails, some emails. Hardly any new text messages. Jon had left her a note on the counter. He was getting dinner with Hammer and Stalberg. She put the phone in her pocket and went upstairs to get ready. After a quick shower she did a look through of her closet. Maybe she should have consulted a stylist. What does someone wear to an apology? She pulled out a white dress with lace sleeves. It had had lace across the bodice, sheer down the center of the chest and a simple a-line from the waist down. She checked the tag around the hanger, “Valentino Spring 2012”. It was spring and it was 2012 so that was good enough for her.
The Chop House actually did look like it could be a set from the Godfather. It was in an old Victorian building, with the entrance sunken into the sidewalk. Inside were hunter green walls with wood paneling up to the chair rail, and two rows of tables covered in white cloth. Elia arrived first, and ordered a bottle of wine. Her goal was to finish by the time the guys showed up. She failed. Nobody said anything for a long time after they had sat down at the table.
“I chatted with Hoss a little before I came. He told me you called him. I think that was a nice gesture.” Elia said. That was a warm up. Start out with something positive. Raffi said nothing. Just remember, she thought to herself, 'all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had'. Elia always tried to remember that her struggles could be advantages, because it helped her see things from other view points. Most people were trying to do the best they can to get by, but not everyone knew the right way to do it. Somewhere along the way Raffi had learned this was the best way to play.
“I'm sorry that I initiated words with you, and that I lost control of my temper and hit you in the face. I was very emotional after seeing someone I care about get hurt. I...” She meant to say I don't believe you meant to injure him, but she couldn't bring herself to outright lie. Marian was a strong guy with a big presence that made him seem huge. Maybe Torres had truly misjudged the hit. Maybe. She pretended that was all she meant to say. They stared at each other for a long time. Elia felt something squeeze the side of her stomach from under the table and made a strange startled sound. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bissonnette holding back a grin.
“Thank you, I accept your apology.” Torres said, after some thought. Elia and Raffi had met before, back when he was on the Canucks, and several times while he was on the Coyotes. Even then, before the punch, they hadn't been friendly with each other. It was hard to find neutral topics to talk about during dinner. They had almost nothing in common, and were still a long, long way from ever liking each other. Elia waited until after they were part way through dinner to bring something else up.
“I have a favor to ask of you.” She said calmly. Raffi laughed.
“Really, you have a favor to ask of me? Aren't I already doing you a favor?” He replied. Elia ignored him.
“I would appreciate it if you would try to stop using the f-word.” She said.
“Are you kidding me? You use the f-word more than anyone except maybe Gordon Ramsay. This is ridiculous,” Raffi said.
“I'm not talking about fuck, I don't care about that. I'm talking about the derogatory slur you used towards Patrick Kane.”
“Are you serious?”
“I've literally never been more serious. There's no place for discrimination anymore. Being gay doesn't make someone weak. Kaner could be totally gay and nobody in Chicago would care cause he's going to get like 70 points a season. I believe in your ability to talk shit without going for cheap shots like the f-word. And I believe you can play better hockey than going for questionable hits.”

The two truths and one lie game. Raffi didn't know they were playing. He was remarkably reflective about the idea. A glass of wine and a steak had taken the edge off, and Elia had a feeling Biz had talked him into a good state of mind before coming. The two had a sort of truce by the end of dinner. Paul and Elia went down the street for one more drink after they finished at the Chop House. They sat down at the bar. Elia ordered a beer and Paul got a Jack and Coke. People kept looking over at them, trying to work up the courage to talk to them. Nobody did. Having been in public all day, Elia was tired of feeling like an animal at the zoo. Constantly being looked at, being photographed. The awkward moment when somebody forgot to turn their flash off while sneaking a picture. Friends wondered why she always wore jeans and a plain tee, but the answer was simple. The more she dressed up the more she stood out.
"You didn't respond to my snapchat." Paul said.
"From when?" Elia asked, taking out her phone to check if she had one.
Paul had sent her one that morning after practice. Taylor Pyatt had ripped a whole in the butt of his jeans and didn't notice, and the entire team let him walk around with it for over an hour. He didn't catch on until somebody at their hotel told him.
"His pants ripped or somebody ripped them and put them back in his locker?" Elia asked. She would have to try that on Sharpie some time.
"I didn't get your snap," Elia added, looking through her snapchats. "Oh, wait a minute..." Her voice trailed off. That was strange, it was in the log but had already been opened. There were a few that she never saw that had been opened. She went back to her text messages. The new message indicator wasn't on because her most recent texts had already been read. Just not by her. That she remembered, at least.
"Oh shit," she said suddenly.
"What?" Paul asked.
"What if Jonathan went through my phone?"
"What have you been hiding from your boyfriend little lady?"

She wasn't hiding anything, but her friends were degenerates. Especially Paul. There was a number of things that, taken out of context, would probably seem bad. It could have been Clint or Hossa or one of the team doctors. Several people could have handled her phone over the past 24 hours. Maybe somebody opened the messages on accident. And the snapchats. Jon wasn't good at apps, he probably didn't even know how to use snapchat.

Her love was already asleep when she got home. There was a game the next day. She made as little noise as possible getting into bed, and carefully scooted up next to him, reaching her arm around him.

She felt his body roll out from under her in the morning as Jon reached out to turn off his alarm. He sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed. Elia pushed herself up on her elbows.
"Already morning?" She said drowsily.
"Morning comes fast when you don't get to bed until morning El," Jon quipped.
She sat up and put her arms around his waist and her head on his back between his shoulder blades.
"Hey Jonny, did you happen to look through my phone yesterday?" She asked softly. His body moved slightly as he started to shake his head.
"No, why?"
"Hmm, just wondering."
She leaned back again as Jon stood up and across the room toward the bathroom. He came back in and walked into the closet.
"You know, if anything was ever bothering you or if you heard something about me...You know you could ask me anything, right?" She called out.
Jon came out of the closet wearing nike shorts and a tee shirt."What would be bothering me?" He asked her. She hoped it was her imagination, but when he looked at her, she could have sworn he was wearing his game face.

Jon was hard to read the rest of the morning. He got that way on game days, but something about it felt weird. Elia's lawyer called during breakfast, giving her the news that charges had officially been dropped, and the district attorney would not be filing their own charges against her. He still wanted her to stay away from the games for the rest of the series against the Coyotes. Her publicist reiterated that she needed to watch the rest of the games from home. Elia protested at first but reluctantly agreed.

As game four started that night Elia was stretching out on the couch in the Sharp's living room, holding baby Madeline on her chest. The baby kept reaching out and trying to grab Elia's face. “Don't put your gross hands in my mouth,” Elia kept saying. “No, not my eyes, gross.” Elia held out her fingers and let the baby hold on, playing peek-a-boo with both their hands.
“Your buddy Bissonnette just went in,” Abby said. Elia looked up at the television. Sure enough, there was Paul. As soon as the puck dropped he threw his gloves down on the ground and started to dance with Bollig.
“What the fuck,” Elia exclaimed, apologizing to the baby right after. It was a good thing she hadn't gone to the game, she might have had to punch Paul. That was obviously planned from the start and he hadn't even mentioned it to her the night before. The fight was pretty brutal, and it was a clear victory by Biz. At one point he had Bollig by the jersey, punching with his jersey hand and following it up with his free hand.
“You and Bissonnette were in the Redeye this morning, did you see that?” Abby asked. “They made it look like you guys were on a date all day, at the White Sox game, and then dinner.”
“I posted a picture on Instagram that I was at dinner making nice with that douche Raffi Torres. Why doesn't anyone notice that?” Elia said. Why was everyone so stuck on her and Biz as a couple? If only they stopped to think about it logically. Paul was not capable of being in a relationship and mostly objectified women. His philosophy was to let girls come to him via twitter, instagram and facebook until the supply started to dwindle. So far it had not. Either way, Elia didn't really care.
Nothing else happened for the rest of the period, or the second, except Madeline being put to bed. In the third period both teams scored twice, and for the fourth straight game, they went into overtime. The Coyotes were the first to score. The Blackhawks were now down three games to one heading back to Phoenix.
Elia did not travel to Phoenix for the next game. There was some odd tension between her and Jon before he left, and it only deepened with the distance between them. They talked on the phone a few times, but Jon was barely responding. Elina was hosting a watch party for the WAGs at her and Niklas' row house for the game, and Elia drove over with Abby. The Hawks were battling all game, and this time when it went to overtime, Toews put a goal in after only a few minutes.
Game six came back to Chicago. Elia had hoped that Jon's mood would be better after the win, but it wasn't. She was worried about him. He was tired and irritable, and instead of leaning on her for support he was acting distant. The morning of the game Elia woke up with Jon's back to her face again, her arm around his waist and her hand resting on his chest. She felt him shift a little, and knew he was awake.
“Jonny, I feel like you're pulling away from me,” she whispered. He didn't turn around.
“Do you love me?” he asked, his voice flat.
“I love you until the end of time,” she replied. He didn't say anything back, but squeezed her hand against his chest, just for a moment. And then he got out of bed to get ready for morning skate. Elia lay in bed for a while after he left. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach, like something was horribly wrong. Maybe she was still in a dream, waiting to wake up.
Eventually she did move on with her day. She had several meetings to attend regarding the opening of the school that was part of her Englewood project. Her publicist wanted to have a face to face with her about doing the Daily Show the following week, and to talk to her about the MTV Movie Awards. She had been nominated for Best Cameo, and the Weinsteins wanted her to attend ahead of a wide release for the film. If the Hawks lost tonight, would she want to attend with Jonathan? Elia wasn't going to talk about a future that hinged on the Hawks losing. She ended up at the Sharp's again for the game. For the first in the series, the game didn't go into overtime. Instead, the Blackhawks were shut out 4-0. The whole series had a dark cloud around it ever since Hossa was knocked out, and now it was over. It was a horrible loss, and Elia could hardly believe it was really over. The Blackhawks couldn't go out like that, could they?
She felt exhausted by the time she got home, and after tending to the pets went straight to bed. She tried sitting up in bed and reading for a while, waiting for Jon, but ended up dozing off. Her phone vibrating under her stomach woke her up. She was laying on the phone and for a moment had trouble finding it, missing the call. It was almost one in the morning and Jon wasn't home. The phone rang again. It was Kane. She answered.
“Hey Kaner, is everything alright? Is Jon with you?” She asked, yawning.
“I'm on my way over to your house right now, okay? El, Jon took a flight back to Winnipeg right after the game.” Pat said solemnly.

Notes