Stay, Stay, Stay

“What did she want exactly?” Sid asked as we pulled out of the rink parking lot. They’d lost 4-2 to Carolina and he was finally permitted to talk to me.
“I told you, I haven’t text her back,” I sighed and let my head fall back.
“Well are you going to?” he glanced over at me before changing lanes.
“I don’t know,” I whined. “Do you think I should?” I looked at him with wide eyes
“You don’t like it when I tell you what to do,” he reminded me and rest his hand on my leg.
“I’m making an exception.”
He’d managed to avoid me all morning. I sat pouting in Larry’s office, looking over more paperwork when he returned to the rink from his afternoon nap.He poked his head into the office unsuspectingly and let out a muffled grunt when he found me perched on the edge of the desk with a file in my hands, my legs hanging over the edge and the tan Louboutins we’d bought in New York hanging off of my feet. He was dressed in a grey suit with a white shirt, the top two buttons left open revealing his Adam's apple and soft neck. I wanted to jump into his arms and latch my mouth onto the spot below his ear. I looked up at him over the edge of my glasses, hair falling over my shoulder and framing my face. Our eyes locked and I knew he was resisting the temptation that bubbled inside of him. He shifted his weight and adjusted his pants in a way that would be inconspicuous to anyone but me. I watched his eyes flicker, taking in my silhouette in front of him. We both wanted to talk to each other. I could tell by the blush rising on his cheeks that he wanted to pull me close to him as badly as I wanted to wrap my arms around his waist. A good luck wish on the tip of my tongue and my lips quivering at the sight of his, we both abstained. I motioned to the left, wordlessly telling him where he’d find Larry. The side of his mouth moved slightly, a subtle smile, and he left in the direction I’d sent him. I had to admit, his self control was admirable and his determination arousing.
I saw him again on the bench, after changing out of my seductress costume and into the regulated khaki pants and polo shirt, my hair pulled into a bun and my Louboutins replaced with black Clark’s with added arch support and cushy insoles. I stood as far away from him on the bench as I could and watched his movements with my fingers interlocked and my teeth digging into my bottom lip. He looked at me four times, each time briefly, with that flicker of affection in his eyes. If he was trying to frustrate both of us he was doing a remarkable job.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” He squeezed my leg reassuringly. “I mean, it’d just be a dinner right?”
“Sometimes I wish you were the jealous type,” I grumbled.
“No you don’t. It would drive you insane.”
“You’re probably right.”
“What if you made it a group thing? Invite Serena and Geno over, make dinner, something casual,” He suggested.
“Then it would be on our territory,” a smile crept on my face. There was no way she’d cause any trouble with people around.
“Would it weird you out if I said I kind of want to meet her?” He glanced at me, blushing slightly.
“Well no...” I studied his face, “Not weirded out, provided it’s for research purposes and not to fulfill some lesbian fetish you haven’t told me about.”
“Since when is liking lesbians a fetish? I thought everyone liked a good lesbian visual.”
“Whatever, all I’m saying is don’t expect anything from her.” I scoffed.
“I might not be the jealous type but I can’t say I’d be cool with you and your ex-girlfriend eating anything but dinner together. If you catch what I’m throwing.” He smirked, pulling into the driveway.
“You’re some lucky I like you, Captain SassyPants,” I groaned, getting out of the truck.
“Captain SassyPants?” He called giggling, coming behind me as I walked to the front door. “Wouldn’t you rather I be Captain NoPants?” He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me from the ground, kissing my neck obnoxiously.
“You’ll be Captain CouchPants if you don’t put me down,” I screeched, kicking my legs wildly.
“CouchPants? That doesn’t even make sense, gosh Beatrice!” He opened the front door, holding me with a single arm. His physical strength was constantly impressing me.
“Put me down or I’ll spend the rest of the week baking things too calorie rich for you to eat,” I threatened.
He stopped a few feet shy of the kitchen and gently placed me back on my feet. “Wow, you get mean when you’re not in control,” he frowned, looking like a little boy who’d been refused a cookie.
“It’s for your best interest,” I rest my head against his chest. “I didn’t want you to hurt yourself carrying around so much weight,” I laughed, self-deprecating humour being some of my favourite.
“Hey,” he hooked his finger under my chin and lifted it so our eyes me. “Don’t say that shit,” he kissed me softly. “I know you’re kidding, but we both know I bench 250, give me a little credit, Keller.”
“You’re not bench pressing me,” I mumbled, seeing his eyes flicker and the predictable gears in his mind turns.
“No, of course not,” he blushed, kissing me again to distract me from his ridiculous idea. “Oh, and for the record, I know what you were trying to do with the shoes and the hair.”
“What shoes and hair?”
“Today, with the hair all over the place and the boobs to your chin and the legs. Not nice!” He scowled at me, his lower lip jutting out.
“You said I couldn’t talk to you, not that I had to wear a paper bag,” I rolled my eyes and shoved his playfully.
“Yeah well, you try putting equipment on with a half-chub because your girlfriend is obviously trying to seduce you.”
“Try having your boyfriend telling you not to talk to him for a day and then showing up in that suit with that ass and that smirk,” I shot back and him, a seductive grin forming on my still red lips.
“I know, it’s not the most conventional of practices but it’s just an experiment,” he pulled me closer to him.
“It’s superstition. The same reason you tie your right skate before your left. You’re a freak, I accept it.” My head back on his chest I nuzzle under his chin.
“Says the girl who won’t touch her own bruises and made me massage a hematoma for ten minutes in the corner of her office.” He rolled his eyes and laughed.
“It makes perfect sense!” I cried stepping back. “I told you, I can’t heal other people and myself, that just doesn’t make sense. It’s asking too much from the forces that be.”
“I wasn’t complaining,” his arms were still around my waist, keeping me close. “I got to touch your ass.”
“You can touch it again if you want,” I purred, moving my arms around his neck and pressing our bodies together.
Needless to say we were both relieved to be sleeping in the same bed again.

I sent the text the next morning, with the next four days off before a week long road trip I had no excuse not to see her. I kept the messages simple and we quickly decided on meeting the next day at 7pm. After a call to Serena, where I begged her to be there, I grabbed my computer and made my way to the yellow room. It was already 11am and Sidney had left to work out. I sat at the desk typing questions into google, ten tabs of possible recipes open and not a clue how to make any of them. Cooking was Serena’s thing, not mine. I was lucky if I could make a grilled cheese sandwich without burning it. I had recipes from every corner of the world; every skill level and every aisle of the grocery store was represented on my browser. The more I thought about it the more I wanted everything to be perfect. So perfect that I planned to break my promise to Beau. The house needed a few touches, table clothes, candles, throw pillows, little things. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to do these things to spite Millie. I couldn’t want to see the look on her face when she walked into our beautiful home to find everything perfect. Our home. I’d never thought of it as that. The house was in Sidney’s name and it always would be. My house was the apartment. But Millie didn’t need to know that. All she needed to know was that I was doing exponentially better without her in my life. With that in mind I closed half of the tabs. Who was I kidding? There was no way I could learn to cook five-star dishes in one day. I was trying to decide between some chicken thing with lemons, and a pasta dish with white sauce when I felt two hands on my shoulders.
“Jeezus!” I screeched started, and spun around ready to attack whoever was behind me.
“Sorry,” Sid laughed, holding his hands up to protect himself. “I thought you heard me come up.”
“Obviously not,” I grumbled and turned back to the computer. I glanced at the time in the top right hand corner. 4:23pm, I’d been there for over four hours.
“I invited Marc and his wife to come to dinner tomorrow,” he mentioned casually, massaging my shoulders.
“What? Why?” I turned around again, brushing his hands off of me.
“I thought it might be nice if you met some of the other WAGs,” he shrugged.
“What the fuck is a WAG?” I glared at him, already irritated.
“Wives and girlfriends,” he eyed me, as if I should know the meaning of the ridiculous acronym.
“And why did you think tomorrow would be a good night for that?” I whined, dropping my head in my hands.
“I don’t know, I thought it might take your mind off of her being there,” he tried to touch my shoulder but I shrugged him off again.
“Are you that dense?” I moaned. “I guess it’s a good thing I haven’t gone to the store yet.” I sounded more like a housewife than I wanted to.
“If it’s that big of a deal I can call and cancel, tell Marc-Andre my girlfriend is being a bitch,” he spat back at me.
I stared up at him, shocked and hurt. Sidney wasn’t one to throw around words when he was angry.
“Okay, that was uncalled for,” he knelt down in front of me, taking my hands in his. “I’m sorry. I had a shitty workout, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“No kidding,” I growled, trying to pull my hands away.
“Wanna tell me why you’re so pissy? Should I be getting Mitrol or whatever it’s called?” He squeezed my hands and smiled nervously.
I scowled at him, my eyebrows knit tightly together. “It’s Midol, and no. Contrary to popular belief I’m allowed to have emotions without them being a result of hormonal shifts.” I pulled my hands away from his and returned my attention to the recipes.
“Right,” he said softly and stood up. “You might want to keep in mind that I’m not the enemy and I just want to help you,” he said a little louder, turning my chair so I was facing him again.
“Can you just leave me alone so I can figure this out?” I said impatiently.
“What is your problem?” he bellowed, exasperated and reaching out to touch me.
“My problem is you hovering over my shoulder,” I hissed and tried to turn the chair back to the desk. He stopped it and wheeled me closer to him.
“Have you eaten today?” He asked, his voice calm and rational compared to mine.
“Just go away,” I pushed him. Without standing up my hands only reached his stomach and instead of moving him I ended up moving myself. Cursing the wheels on the chair I shuffled back to my spot, refusing to look him in the eye.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He shook his head and muttered something to himself before leaving me alone in the yellow room.
“Pain in the ass,” I grumbled to myself and emailed the recipes to my phone so I could buy the correct ingredients.

I pulled on a pair of yoga pants and his grey Penguins hoodie and headed out to the second last place I wanted to be. The first was with Sidney, the second, the grocery store.
“I’m taking your truck,” I called plucking his keys off of the counter.
“Do you want company?” he replied, all too enthusiastically.
“No,” I grabbed my purse and slammed the door behind me. The chilly winter air nipped at my exposed cheeks and blew through the cotton of the sweater. I was relieved to find an extra jacket on the passengers seat when I climbed into the truck, thinking wasn’t my strong suit when I was already worked up. I pulled out of the driveway and flicked on the stereo, it was set to a sports station and I shook my head, wondering why he tortured himself listening to that shit. Instead of finding a better station I hit play on the c.d player and hoped for something decent. The little screen told me Hunter Hayes would be the first to play and I smiled to myself. Country music was one of my guilty pleasures. There was nothing wrong with country per-say, but it wasn’t my usual style. I skipped to track 14 and cranked the volume.
“But I don’t want good and I don’t want good enough, I want can’t sleep can’t breathe without your love.” I sang at the top of my lungs, drumming the beat on the steering wheel. I didn’t care how I looked to the drivers around me, or how loud the music was, all I cared about was making as much noise as I could and letting everything fade away. When the song ended I hit rewind and continued my driver’s seat performance until I pulled into the parking lot. By then my voice was hoarse and my face was flushed, but at least I was calmer. Anyone with ‘food issues’ will tell you that grocery stores are daunting. A variety of contrasting emotions, exciting, overwhelming, painful, and confusing to name a few. For the most part I was usually okay, but on the brink of relapse I felt myself getting anxious as I wandered the bright aisles.
I spent as little time as I could in the oversized food emporium. Gathering only the things I needed for the dinner I still managed to spend over $200 and leave with five bags. I placed them on the floor the backseat and headed to the next place on my list. While Pier1 Imports wasn’t nearly as dreadful as the grocery store, it still wasn’t a place I’d chose to spend my recreational time. I walked in with the intention of buying a few pillows and some placemats and left with an area rug, four pillows, new curtains, two table cloths, a set of 10 placemats, and all new dishes. I also splurged on a Papasan chair I’d had my eye on for years as well as a few homey trinkets. My stomach churned as the cashier rang my huge load through. $2,394.23 later I cursed Sidney for convincing me to invite Millie over and directed the two teenage boys who were carrying my things to the truck.
“Nice rig,” one of the lanky boys remarked.
“Isn’t it?” I smiled politely and unlocked the drivers door. “It’s Sidney Crosby’s,” I added, feeling reckless. The boys stared at me slack jawed and I drove off.
I had intended to head straight home, it was already 6:34pm and I still hadn’t bothered to eat. I wasn’t too worried, I’d gone longer, but my stomach was starting to protest. I tapped it lightly with my fist and tried to silence the grumbling. I figured another few minutes wouldn’t kill me and I pulled into the parking lot of my favourite clothing store in the city. A smaller boutique that carried a variety of styles and never disappointed.
“Hello,” an older woman greeted me when I entered. I caught a glimpse of my ragged reflection in the window and tried to fix my hair. “Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked, walking towards me.
I opened myself to say no, that I was just browsing, but changed my mind. “Yes,” I smiled broadly. “My ex-girlfriend is coming into town and I want a dress that shows her I’m better without her and that she missed out.” I watched the woman’s face, hoping for a positive reaction. Not everyone was comfortable when I mention my history of homosexual relationships.
“You came to the right place dear, we specialize in screw you outfits,” she laughed and motioned for me to follow her. We walked through the racks to a section of dresses at the back of the store. Every colour, cut, and shape represented on the long wall. “Do you have a price point?” she asked, already looking through the wares.
I hesitated, but answered with a firm no. I’d already spent three-grand, another hundred wasn’t going to kill me.
“Perfect,” she smiled excitedly and started handing me dresses. I had five in my hand when she directed me to the fitting room. “So do you know where you’re meeting her?”
“Yes,” I replied, pulling the first dress over my head, a strapless pink number with a slit up the back and a black belt. “Unfortunately she’s coming over,” I opened the door to get help with the zipper.
“Oh dear,” she looked at me concerned, zipping up the dress.
“We won’t be alone, my boyfriend and some of his coworkers will be there. I guess it’s my first dinner party.” I rolled my eyes and turned to look at my reflection.
“The pink looks good against your skin,” she remarked.
I turned to the side and studied my profile in the mirror. It was good, but not good enough. I went back in and put the dress back on the hanger, it was a maybe. The next four dresses were just as underwhelming and I was starting to get frustrated when she knocked on the door and handed me two more.
“We’ll find the perfect one,” she squeezed my arm affectionately and took the ‘no’ pile out of the dressing room.
The first of the two dresses was grey with intricate silver beading on the bodice and thin straps. The skirt was light and gauzy coming just above my knee. The straps crossed in the back and there was a window between the skirt and the bodice that revealed a patch of my pale skin. It was like nothing I owned and nothing I’d have picked on my own. Dresses with open backs made my nervous, worried the creases in my flesh would show. This one however fit perfectly. I stepped out of the tight dressing room and waited for her opinion.
“Well hot damn!” the woman grinned at my appearance. “Now there is a dress that says I’ve moved on!” She led me to the 360 degree mirror and pointed out how perfectly it fit. “If you can spend the money, this dress if for you.”
I smiled at my reflection. There was no doubt that it would blow Millie away. “How much is it?” I held my breath, hoping for something reasonable.
“$250, and if you’re willing I have the perfect shoes to go with it.”
I could do $250, I told myself and nodded excitedly. The woman disappeared from behind me and returned with three shoe boxes.
“I didn’t know your size so I grabbed a few,” she chucked and pulled out a pair of shiny sliver heels with a delicate T-strap. The heel was just high enough without being dangerous and they reminded me of dance shoes. I grinned and told her my shoes size.
“Well I hope your boyfriend’s coworkers aren’t fuddyduddies,” she remarked as we took in my reflection, shoes and all.
“No, they’re pretty liberal,” I laughed. “I work with them too.”
“Oh?” she reached for a necklace on the stand beside her. “Where do you work?”
“I work for the Penguins,” I answered as she placed a simple chain with a cameo pendant on it around my neck. “I’m a team medic,” I added.
“Ooh, hockey players,” she winked and fastened the necklace. “They’re a hoot, my son played hockey when he was a kid and gosh, team parties were something else.”
“Try living with two,” I laughed.

I got back into my street clothes while she wrapped up my purchases. I was giddy knowing I’d found something so beautiful that fit so well. $400 later I left with two bags and a sense of accomplishment. There was no way Millie wouldn’t be shocked when she saw me. I headed home with Hunter Hayes singing the soundtrack to my journey.
I hopped out of the truck and took my dress and shoes with me and walked up to the house. Inside, James Neal and Beau were playing video games on the big screen in the living room.
“Oh good,” I said over the sound of the game, pulling my shoes off in the entryway. “You guys can help Sid with the stuff in the truck.” I pulled the hoodie over my head and tossed in on the couch, leaving me in just a tank top.
“What did you buy?” Beau asked, pausing the game.
“Stuff for tomorrow,” I set my bags on the counter in the kitchen, along with Sidney’s keys.
“What’s tomorrow?” James asked, both boys walking into the kitchen.
“Her girlfriend’s coming over,” Beau teased, sniffing around the bags I’d taken in.
“What?” Neal looked confused.
“Ex-girlfriend,” I corrected him. “And it’s not that big a deal, I just wanted to spruce up the place anyway.”
“Beatrice!” Beau cried out. “You promised!”
“Can you just bring it in before my groceries freeze?” I looked at him, exhausted.
Beau grabbed the keys and headed for the door in a huff. I stood in the kitchen staring at the refrigerator, wondering if I should bother opening it.
“I know you’re hungry,” Sid wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“Please don’t start,” I sighed, ready to pull away from him.
“I’m not,” he promised. “But if this lasts more than a few days I will start and I won’t stop until you get help.” He pulled me close against him and kissed the top of my head.
“I’m fine,” I let my head fall back onto his chest.
“Baby, you’re not fine,” he sighed. “If you were fine you wouldn’t be doing this. Why do you do it?”
He’d asked me the hardest question of all. It was a question I’d been asking myself for years. The reasons varied. It had started because I wanted to lose weight, but quickly it became so much more. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Is it because you think you’re unattractive? Because I can assure you that isn’t true at all.”
“Not entirely,” I admitted. Part of it had always been my own insecurity with my body, but the older I got, the less that became the issue.
“Then what is it?” he pleaded.
“I can’t explain it,” I said softly. “Partly because I don’t really understand it myself, but it’s just this nagging feeling inside me that I can’t shake. It’s this anxiety and overwhelming need to control something, to be strong. There’s no way you could understand.” I admitted, tears slipping from my eyes unexpectedly.
“You’re right, I don’t understand.”
“Uhm Bea...” I looked over to find Beau standing in the doorway awkwardly. “Where do you want this stuff?”
“Oh sorry,” I moved away from Sidney and wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “Groceries in the kitchen and the rest in the living room, except for the boxes, those are dishes put them on the table and do not break anything.” I directed them.
“What did you buy?” Sid looked at me bewildered.
“Just some stuff for tomorrow,” I bit my lip and smiled.

Notes

I'm procrastinating again. I have a midterm in the morning... and a paper due... but this is so much more exciting than studying.

I really love hearing what you guys think! About Bea, about Sid, about global warming, anything really!

xx- T