Knowing that I’d have to wait weeks before starting a new pack of birth control, I didn’t rush to make a doctors appointment. I had a sneaking suspicion that despite already being on the pill, the new doctor would force me to endure a physical and that was hardly something I looked forward to, As May became closer to June, Sidney and I fell into a comfortable routine. He’d wake up at an hour far too early for holiday, get some kind of work out in, and return home to find me dragging my tired self out of bed. Some mornings I’d call Serena, who in Magnitogorsk, Russia was nine hours ahead of me, and start my day while she ended hers. We’d found a balance in our conversations, I did my best not to worry and pity her, and she promised to tell me if she needed me.
“Yesterday,” she sighed and I saw her pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders, “yesterday was bad.”
“Oh?” I moved around the kitchen making lunch, the afternoon sun streaming through the window, but stopped when I heard her words. We hadn’t been able to Skype in a few days and I’d been trying not to worry about her.
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Serena’s voice was quiet and fragile. “I don’t know how to talk about it because it comes and goes, the feeling I mean. Three days ago I felt perfectly normal. We went walking through town and Geno was teaching me words in Russian, and it felt like everything would be okay. But the I woke up the next day and I couldn’t breathe properly. Because I’m not really sure how to breathe properly when I’m only breathing for me and I can’t figure out why this happened. He keeps telling me we’ll be okay and that we’ll get through it together, but that’s all he says. He’s the only other person who can possibly understand and I can’t talk to him about any of this. His family and friends here know, but no one talks about it, no one really talks to me.”
“Have you told him this?” I sat at the counter, leaving the sandwiches I was making for later.
“No,” she shook her head and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to bring him down. He seems okay, better than me at least. I want him to be okay and continue to get better, I don’t want to jeopardize him getting over it. I know that sounds masochistic but sometimes it feels like if I ignore it all, I can pretend it never happened.”
I took a second to digest what she was saying, choosing my words carefully. “I don’t think he’s as okay as he seems.” I finally said, holding my breath as I waited for her response.
“I think about what she’d have been like, in maybe six years time. I imagine her being fun like him, and creative like me. I imagine her with braids and Penguins gear skating for the first time. I think about what kind of parents we’d have been. He doesn’t know, but I took the blanket from the hospital with me.” I could hear her voice getting tighter. “I just don’t want to let go of the dreams yet. I don’t want to forget about her yet.”
“I know,” I said at a loss for words. I wanted to reach into the computer, all the way to Russia and comfort her in any way I could. Pour her drinks and feed her ice cream until even the tiniest part of her felt better. I knew I had not right to save her, I didn’t have the power to fix anything.
“What if she was the only thing keeping us together? I was unsure about my feelings for so long and now the idea of losing him makes me sick. What if this is what breaks us up? What if after all this, she was the only reason he was still around?” She let her head fall back against the wall and groaned. I wondered if she was going to cry, if she had cried at all since the night they said goodbye.
“I think you should talk to him,” I finally said when I was sure she’d finished talking. “I think he needs to know how you feel. If he doesn’t know then how can he help you? S, you said it yourself, he’s the only one who can understand. I can be here, and listen and remind over and over that you’re going to get through this, but he’s the only one who can really help you. And if you tell him and it doesn’t go the way you want it to, I will get you on the soonest flight to Halifax and we will spend the entire summer at the beach or on the Island eating COWS ice cream and your grandmother’s pie crust.”
“Promise?” she gave me a weak smile and sighed.
“Absolutely!” I laughed. “We don’t joke about pie crust in this family.”

We said our goodbyes and promised to talk in the coming days. My heart was heavy for her and Geno, but I wasn’t lying when I told her I knew she’d make it through. Serena was the strongest person I’d ever met. The most rational and supportive woman I’d had the privilege to know.
I finished assembling our sandwiches and found Sidney in the sunroom with his face in a book. The warm yellow light washed the room and surrounded me like a blanket. I set the sandwiches on the coffee table and sat on the couch beside him, my legs tucked under me.
“How’s Serena?” he asked, placing the book face down on his lap and wrapping his arm around me.
“The same,” I snuggled into him, not caring to elaborate. “What are you doing today?”
“I don’t have any plans,” he grabbed half of his sandwich off of the plate and took a bite. “Do you have anything in mind?”
“Not really,” I shrugged.
“But you’re bored,” he smirked finishing the half of sandwich in his hand.
“Well… no,” I began.
He pulled me tighter and kissed the top of my head playfully. “I’m not at all surprised by this,” he laughed. “You are incapable of relaxing.”
“I am not!” I cried, mildly offended. “But you’re one to talk! We’re on holiday and you’re spending half the day at the gym.”
“I didn’t say I was good at it either,” he laughed louder. “I’m just better at amusing myself.”
“Easy to do in your own house,” I rolled my eyes and jabbed him lightly in the side.
“Hey,” he looked at me with hurt in his eyes. “Don’t say that, it’s your house too.”
“Not really,” I shook my head. “And that’s okay. I just meant that it’s different.” I tried to smooth things over, regretting my thoughtless comment.
“Then let’s make it yours,” he handed my half of my sandwich and motioned for me to eat.
“It’s fine,” I took a bite of the sandwich. Having grown used to his overbearing concern for my diet I gave up resisting and ate to appease him. “I really didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m serious, do you want to gut the whole thing and redo it together? Because I’m willing to do that if it’ll make you feel at home.”
“That’s a little extreme,” I laughed, almost dropping the sandwich. “I like it the way it is anyway.”
“Then pick a room,” he sat up excited. “There are like 10 empty rooms, pick one and we can do whatever you want with it. We can put carpet on the walls, or wallpaper it with naked pictures, or make it a giant aquarium. Anything you want.” He grinned, the wheels in his mind already turning.
“Why would we want a room wallpapered with naked pictures?” I eyed him, trying not to laugh.
“Why wouldn’t we?” he shrugged and we both toppled over in a fit of tearful laughter. There was something so heartwarming and endearing about his desire to make me happy. The lengths he would go to please me meant more than the action itself.

“I cannot believe you left the house looking like that,” Sidney pointed to my faded shirt and denim shorts, taking his eyes off of the road just long enough to shoot me a look of disgust.
“What?” I was shocked by his outward criticism. When I’d looked in the mirror before leaving I’d thought I looked alright. “Is there a dress code at your local hardware store,” I spat back at him.
“Well, no,” he smirked. “But I don’t think people are going to get why you’re hanging off my arm while wearing a Talbot shirtsey.”
“Oh shit,” I looked down at my bright orange Flyers shirt in horror. With our season over it was so easy to forget the politics of hockey. Hidden away in the oasis of the lake house Sidney was just my boyfriend, not a public figure and what I wore didn’t reflect him at all. “Sorry,” I blushed. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Thinking is hard for you lately,” he teased and reached into the back seat then dropped a black Penguins hoodie in my lap.
“The things I do for your reputation,” I shook my head and smiled. Its was the simple moments like this that reminded me how hard it was to be him. Little tiny things that could impact his career negatively. He had no choice but to be on guard all of the time.
“The tough life of a WAG,” he chuckled and squeezed my leg affectionately. “You and Vero should write a book about it.”
“Because the fans really need to know how weird you two are?” I pulled the t-shirt over my head and tossed it on the seat behind me.
“Are you taking your shirt off to distract me or?” He eyed my chest and bit his lip suggestively.
“If we got pulled over would you get a ticket for distracted driving?” I thought out loud, sitting shirtless in the front seat of his truck. “But no, that wasn’t my intention. I don’t like having my Flyers and Pens gear touching. It seems wrong. Like bringing a voodoo doll to church.”
“And you just called me weird,” he rolled his eyes and I pulled the sweater over my head, just as we hit the town limits.

“You’re sure you’re okay with having a pink room in your house?” I clarified for the third time. The day after our adventure to the hardware store we stood in the middle of one of the empty rooms, armed with rollers, drop cloths, and two cans of pale pink paint.
“Yup,” Sidney grinned. “If we have left overs we can even paint the kitchen if you want.” He kissed my cheek playfully and tapped my bum with his clean roller.
“I think we’ll stick for one room if that’s alright with you,” I bent down and pried the lid off of the first can and poured it into the tray. “This is your last chance,” I rolled the white brush in the pigment and held it to the wall.
“Wait,” he held my wrist, stopping me just as I was about to press the paint to the wall. He dropped my wrist and picked up the can of paint. Dipping his finger in the pink liquid. He brought it to the wall and started to smear the colour on with an unclear but specific intention. After every shape he’d gather more paint on his finger and keep going. By the sixth shape I realized he was writing letters, words. And when he finished he took a step back on the shapes on the wall read: Property of Beatrice Elizabeth Keller- this room and my heart.

We lay in the middle of the freshly painted room, both speckled with pink and covered in a layer of sweat. The sun was setting and I could see the orange streaked sky through the large window, the fading light casting shadows in the room. There was a section of wall we hadn’t painted yet. a rectangle of white and pink that I could bear to cover. A few feet tall and few more long, the pink letters on white wall serving as Sidney’s official declaration. It would have to stay.
“We make a good team,” I rolled onto my side and rest my head on his chest.
“Mmm,” he smiled and ran his paint crusted fingers through my dirty hair. “I’ll take you on my line any day.”
I didn’t say anything, instead I moved up his body and pressed my lips gently against his, kissing him slowly at first but building the pressure as my hands slipped under his stained t-shirt. There was something so undeniably tempting about him laying underneath me, his heart beating in my ear; something so irresistible about having his lips against mine. As if the day spent dabbling in home decoration was prolonged foreplay, we fell into each other surrounded by dirty rollers and empty paint cans. With his fingers laced between mine it didn’t matter who owned what, or where we were. The only thing that matter was us. Us as a pair, two people with a common bond, us.

The pink room became my oasis, my perfect space in a world I was still learning to navigate. We’d bought a chair and a lamp, a desk and a few decorative bits to liven it up, in less than two days the empty room had been transformed into mine and I started to feel at peace again. I loved being away with him, in fact it was clearer than ever that I loved being within one hundred feet of him, I loved knowing him and seeing him, watching him do the simplest of things. I loved the way he held books right in front of his face and stared at them with complete concentration, how he flipped through the pages eagerly devouring every word written, his arm around me whenever possible as I did the same. I loved the change in his voice when he spoke to his family, how he grew softer, not unlike he did with me. I loved listening to him explain things, giving directions, sharing ideas, teaching me about anything and everything. I loved the look of complete contentment that fell across his face in the late afternoon sun, as if he had everything he could need and all was right in the world, because despite my concern for Serena and my own left over heartache, there was very little wrong with our days, and less that I would change.

After putting my doctors appointment off for nearly a month, I finally drove myself into Halifax while Sidney stayed at the house, enjoying the beginnings of summer weather. It was easier for him to stay in our secluded paradise lest he be spotted and hounded by fans, or worse we be spotted together. I was still trying to accept his desire for secrecy but I understood it. Our interactions in public had to be kept to a minimum, any touching done as clandestinely is possible. When asked, I was a team representative here to help with his summer schedule, his personal assistant with benefits they would never imagine.
The doctor—a warm, older man who smelled like peppermints and had a poster of the beach taped to the ceiling above the examination table— insisted we do a complete physical. While I suspected he would, I still groaned when he handed me the plastic sample cup and directed me to the washroom. Legally, he couldn’t prescribe anything until he knew I was in healthy working condition, something I knew very will but had hoped he’d forget. This was the clearest example of the country’s medical care I had ever seen, a full physical just in case, and no bill to pay after.
“Are you sexually active?” he asked while washing his hands. I lay on the examination table in a cotton gown and a paper blanket draped over my legs.
“Yes,” I replied, smiling to myself. We had been “active” every day for the past two weeks, usually two or three times daily.
A slightly painful pap test, a few vials of blood taken and I was sent on my way, told the office would call to set up a follow up. I left the city with the windows down and the radio playing loudly. The summer air filled the truck with the sweet smell of grass and rebirth. I smiled at the warmth of the sun hitting the side of my face and sang along to the upbeat pop song that came through the speakers. I had to remind myself where I was and who I was, otherwise I could have sworn it was a dream. Everything felt cleaner and warmer here, everything seemed easier.
“Dis?” I called when I walked in the front door, tossing my purse on the couch and kicking my sandals off.
“How was it?” he called from the sun room. I followed his voice and found him in his usual spot with a book in his lap.
“I much prefer your hands on my lady bits, but it wasn’t too traumatic,” I flopped down beside him, taking a drink from his water bottle then placing it back on the coffee table.
“I’m glad I’m not the jealous type,” he laughed and nudged me playfully.
“Me too,” I smiled and nudged him back. “Hey, what are we doing this weekend?”
“Whatever you’re about to suggest,” he answered with a wink.
“Perfect,” I stood excitedly. “Go pack, we’re going to the island.” I bent down and kissed his cheek before scurrying to the bedroom.

Sidney was hardly one for spontaneity, so when he loaded out bags into the truck and headed north, I was giddy with excitement. It was a four hour drive we’d both done hundreds of times, but never together. Together we’d stuck to flying, always in a hurry, always planning our time carefully. With June only a day away we had the time we’d always craved, or at least a fraction of it. The first part of his dental surgery wasn’t until the fifteenth and that gave us more time than we could have dreamed of during the season. Work outs could be done anywhere and things didn’t start to speed up until July. I knew without me he’d have already been knee deep in off season duties, but I refused to feel guilty for that.
“Do you need the GPS?” I asked, reaching for his phone.
“Seriously?” he looked at me amused. “Would you need the GPS?”
“Probably not,” I shrugged, smirking and unlocking his phone. “But I haven’t had any recent head injuries,” I winked.
“Are you sure?” he chuckled. “Because that would be a good excuse for asking such a ludicrous question.”
“You’re probably right, I should have gotten the doctor to take a look. I mean why else would I still be with you?” I shot back, both of us grinning.
“Because you like my body.”

We stopped in Truro a little over an hour later for a late lunch. He suggested we go to a restaurant or at least a Subway, but I was adamant that the only thing that would make this day perfect, would be witnessing him eating the product of his biggest olympic sponsor.
“I’ve eaten McDonalds before,” he eyed me as we pulled back onto the highway.
“I’ve never seen it. I’ve only seen you eating things that make me look horribly unhealthy. I also want to prove that olympians eat it themselves,” I pulled out a double cheeseburger and unwrapped it for him.
“I eat junk food all the time,” he cried. “We ate Greco donairs our first night here.”
“It’s not the same,” I smiled and handed it to him. “Eat your sponsor.”
“Ugh,” he groaned and held it to his lips. “I’m going to enjoy this way too much.”
“That’s why we have three more,” I readied my phone, there was no way I wasn’t capturing the moment. “Ice cream and fries too.”
“You’re running with me tomorrow,” he threatened and took a bite. I snapped half a dozen pictures then put the phone down, satisfied.
“Not a chance,” I took my own burger out and unwrapped it. “I have a nephew to snuggle tomorrow.”
“Don’t hate me, but I got Lyla and Felix both jerseys, signed them too.” He took another bite and watched me closely.
“Seriously?” I stopped eating and stared at him.
“Yeah, I know you’re all Flyers fans, but I figured no kid should have to grow up with that kind of torture,” he laughed nervously.
“That….” I stooped and shook my head, a tidal wave of emotion coming at me. “That is…” I sniffled, fighting back tears, “the sweetest thing I have ever heard.” The dam broke and I fell into sobs, a half eaten McDouble in my hand.
“You’re not upset?” He asked, panic and fear in his voice.
“No,” I laughed through the tears.
“Then why…” he rest his hand on my leg. “Why are you crying?”

Laughing again just made me cry harder, big gulping happy sobs that shook my shoulders. “Because I’m so happy,” I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “I’m just so happy, and you keep making it better.”

Notes