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Stay, Stay, Stay

Chapter Fifty-Five

It took a little over two weeks for me to begin to acclimatize myself to being publicly recognized as Sidney’s wife. I knew that I would never be completely comfortable with it, but I was on my way to getting the hang of avoiding attention, it was a gentle dodge and weave that on somedays felt more like an art form than a lifestyle. My twitter had irrupted with followers and it was a daily challenge to avoid the notifications and potential criticism that I wasn’t ready to face. I tried to tell myself that I could handle anything, but despite the mantra I repeated to myself in the mirror every morning, I wasn’t so sure I was the calm, collected, strong, and in control person I claimed to be. By the time the regular season started Sidney and I had fallen into a routine that felt as natural as being. Since the scare and finding the polyp we’d began spending as much time as we possibly could together. It wasn’t an intentional decision by either of us, it just felt right. When he was beside me I felt as close to normal as I’d ever been, and in the wake of the media storm we’d been facing I needed that normalcy in a sort of desperate way I could quite express. We woke up together, bodies tangled in sheets, his hands on my bare skin, my cheek pressed against his shoulder or chest. We woke up moments apart from each other, crawling out of the safety of our bed and facing the day together as a united front. My routine had changed and for once I was completely unbothered by it. So desperate to be in the same room as him I’d taken to walking on the treadmill while he went through his morning warm up. After we emerged, sweat glistening on our faces I made the toast while he blended a concoction I’d learned to stomach. We ate breakfast together, sometimes discussing the plans for the day, but sometimes in silence, flipping through sections of the news paper or watching the sun shine through the trees in our backyard. I slept beside him for game day naps, both of our bodies already knowing when it was time to sleep and drifting off effortlessly next to each other, taking a much needed break from the day. Sleep was a resource I required in high quantities and his body supporting mine had become as necessary as the pillow under my head. We did everything we could together, still living on the high that came with out public declaration we found ourselves arm in arm, hands linked together whenever we were in reach and when we weren’t alone, when we were pulled from the warm haze of our world together, we had silent conversations. Discussing everything around us with a series of glances and touches.

The moments Sidney I were apart—mostly at the rink when our jobs were forced to become the main focus— I could be usually be found wrestling open a package of whatever food product I could get my hands on. It was the opposite of my usual reaction to change, but with Clem’s warning ringing through Sidney’s mind, sex had joined eating sushi and cleaning the litter box on a long list of things I was advised not to do, and as a a result I had turned to food to fill the void. It wasn’t technically binge eating, because much like my former sex drive, my appetite was insatiable. My purse had become a travelling pantry and the chefs in the team kitchen no longer asked if I wanted extras. I was dangerously close to becoming a pregnancy stereotype and I was surprisingly unbothered by that. I wasn’t bothered by most things to be fair, I was at peace with our existence, the ebb and flow of our perfectly routined lives together.

“For fuck sakes!” Sid roared as the Canadiens celebrated their now three goal lead in the third period. It was the fifth game of the season and we’d already lost two. I could feel his tense energy and I didn’t think before reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder. It seemed like such a simple, mindless action but just a few weeks prior I would have been doing everything in my power to resist touching him in such a public setting. He reached back and covered my hand with his glove and turned to see me.

“You got this,” I winked at him. He flashed me the smile that made my insides flutter and my knees turn to jelly, then jumped over the boards and back into the game. It was our private moments in public that left me glowing. I watched him take the face-off at centre ice and tried to commit every second of it to memory. My time behind the bench was running. I could tell by the concerned looks I got from players and staff as I made my way around the rink that I was pushing it. While I thought it was perfectly reasonable to work all the way through the pregnancy it seemed that most of my colleagues didn’t share that opinion. There was a strange assumption that as Sidney’s wife I had no business being employed. While my salary paled in comparison to his, I didn’t feel comfortable not working as long as I could. I hadn’t spent years in university to just give up my dream job and live off of my overpaid husband. Admittedly part of my desire to keep working was stubbornness, but more importantly I enjoyed what I was doing, and enjoying my job was still a novelty after many years of dreading my daytime employment.

The final buzzer rang and the scoreboard read 5-2 for Montreal. I watched the team trudge to the dressing room with morose scowls and the occasional curse word slipping from their lips. I walked beside Sidney— who looked to be the most miserable of them all— and gave him a sympathetic smile before turning down the hallway leading to my office. I expected they’d be in the locker room for some time, and with a relatively calm, injury free game I didn’t rush to get to my post in the trainers’ room. I hated to see them lose, but I couldn’t complain about the moments of silence. There was so much I wanted to do before going on offspring leave. I wanted to leave Haley with as much information on the new techniques we were trying as I possibly could. Next to the players, my favourite part of my job was the access to treatments we had. It was a constant learning process, and with sports medicine developing so rapidly there was always a new study or article to investigate. I was flipping through an info pack on flotation therapy that I’d printed off earlier that day, while eating the animal crackers I had stashed in my desk when I heard my door open a crack.

“Are you busy?” James asked hesitantly, poking his head into my office.

“No, but Haley’s in the room. I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help you,” I’d been trying transition her into replacing me before I truly left, but some of the guys, like James, still sought me out.

“Actually, I need you,” he walked inawkwardly, closing the door behind him. “I mean it’s not work related, I just need to talk to you about something…personal.” He ran his hand through his still wet hair and slumped into the chair across from me, visibly tired from the game.

“Oh god,” I groaned anticipating the worst and shoved the bag of crackers back in the drawer. I braced myself to hear about an STI scare or some kind of sexual disfunction.

“I think I met a girl,” James said casually, his hands folded in his lap.

“That’s a good thing?” I clarified, still not exactly sure why he was coming to me.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he shook his head. “The things is, I’ve never had to like try to impress a girl. They usually come to me. But there’s something different about her. I mean I got her tickets to the opener and still, nothing.”

“Are you asking for girl advice?” I teased, and he looked at me slightly ashamed then turned to get up from the chair “Don’t leave,” I called as he walked towards the door. “I promise I won’t make fun of you, just sit back down and tell me how you met her.”
“She nannies for my neighbours,” he told me after returning to his seat and giving me a warning glance. “I’ve run into her a few times. She stayed over one night after I found her drunk and ready to sleep in her car. We spent most of the night on the bathroom floor.” There was a slight smile on his lips as he described his interactions with the mystery girl.

“The bathroom floor?” I asked trying to hide my amusement.

“She was really drunk, I didn’t want to just leave her alone in there.”

“Right,” I smiled at his sincerity. It didn’t surprise me that under all that hair wax he was a kind hearted person.

“But I don’t know if she’s into the hockey thing. She’s a photography student, and she listens to weird music about Alice in Wonderland or something. She’s smart too, but in a non-threatening way. And I think she’s dating some pylon.” He shook his head in disgust at the last sentence and shifted in his chair.

“Jefferson Airplane,” I told him.

“What?”

“The band, they’re called Jefferson Airplane. They kind of became Jefferson Starship in the mid 70s, but she’ll probably tell you that Starship sucks compared to Airplane, and she’d be right,” I told him, finally finding a use for some of the random information that floated around my mind. “And the song, it’s called ‘White Rabbit.”

“How do you even know that?” he looked at me with one eye brow raised and chuckled softly.

“I know a lot of things,” I winked. The truth was I’d gone through my own psychedelic rock phase in high school and had never quite shaken my fondness for Grace Slice and the Airplane gang. “So other than the pylon she may or may not be dating I’m not really sure what your dilemma is.”

“I can’t figure out how to get her attention.”

“Trust me, James, you’ve got her attention,” I couldn’t help but laugh at his naivety. “You have the attention of most people attracted to males.” I wasn’t sure how I could really help him, but I was willing to try Other than the occasional domestic question from Beau I’d never really played the role of female advisor to anyone. “Maybe she’s just playing it cool? She might not know you’re into her.”

“Life is so much easier when girls just come to me,” he groaned.

“I think it’s a good thing. I don’t know the girls you’ve been with, but I do know that as an athlete you attract a lot of female attention and sometimes it’s more about your position than it is your personality. If she’s not jumping at your jersey it might be a sign that she’s waiting to know more. I obviously don’t know her, but as someone who didn’t react to the status I get that it might be a possibility.”

“So you didn’t hook up with Crosby for his name?” he teased.

“Obviously not, why do you think he took my last name?” I chuckled. “Seriously though, the first time I was alone with Sidney I freaked out and locked myself in the bathroom because I was so scared I’d end up being another story from the road. It’s scary to fall for someone who you think could have anyone.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he nodded.

“But if you really want to get to know — what’s her name?”

“Colbie.”

“If you really want to get to know Colbie then you have to go for it, you can’t wait for her to come to you.” I gave him the only advice I could really offer, the rest was all about luck and hope.

“You’re right,” he smiled then got up with a look of determination in his eyes.

“I try,” I laughed and stood up with him, realizing I was supposed to be in the trainers’ room five minutes ago.

“Thank you,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug. “You’re pretty good at the advice thing.”

Two days after our loss to Montreal I sat in the airport beside Sidney waiting to board a flight to California, where we would begin a five game road trip. We both knew it would be my last trip before the baby as an active member of the staff and I felt a certain sentimentality as I watched the guys spread throughout the private room. Geno was looking at his phone and smiling, Beau was dozing off with his headphone slipping off of his head, and Paul Martin looked to be captivated by an article in the New York Times. Next to me, Sid sat with one hand resting on my leg and the other balancing a thick copy of ‘Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA’ open to the 300th page. He’d been reading the book almost nonstop for a solid week and would occasionally stop to read me a passage and watch as I feigned interest. While I had little interest in the history of the CIA I melted when he read to me and would sit pressed against him listening to the hum of his voice and the unique way the words left his mouth. I had my own book on the chair on the other side of me but after rereading the same line of Ina May Gaskin’s ‘Birth Matters’ over and over I’d given up and settled for staring off into space.

I had never been, and never would be a patient person. It was simply a virtue I lacked. While Sidney for the most part could sit calmly and quietly for hours without becoming overwhelmed by anticipation, I struggled to keep myself occupied for more than five minutes at a time. Waiting was a cruel abuse of the limited time I had in my life. I wasn’t oblivious to the irony in my impatience, I was late for everything, but maybe that was because I couldn’t stand waiting. At around twenty-four weeks pregnant my entire life felt like it revolved around waiting. I was over halfway there but still not far enough along that it felt close. I was waiting for the baby, waiting for my time at work to be up, waiting to find out the sex, waiting to decide on a name, and now I was waiting for an airplane. I wanted to enjoy the moments I had before my life changed forever, enjoy being newly wed, enjoy being pregnant, but that’s not possible when something bigger hangs in the distance. It’s a nasty joke life plays on us, expecting one to enjoy the present when the promise of future adventure hangs just out of reach. As at peace as I felt with him beside me in life, the moments we left out private world I felt a sense of urgency that I couldn’t ignore.

“How do you feel about co-sleeping?” I asked quietly, nudging him away from his book.

“Hmm?” he didn’t move his eyes from the page.

“Co-sleeping,” I repeated, still conscious of my volume even though I knew no one was listening to our conversation. “The baby sleeping with us after she or he is born.”

“What?” he finally looked over at me, marking his page and closing the book. I had his attention which had been my main objective. It wasn’t imperative that we discuss parenting approaches in the Pittsburgh airport, but I was desperate for some kind of distraction.

“Some parents choose to have the baby sleep with them, it’s easier for breastfeeding, it’s a family bonding thing,” I elaborated.

“It sounds like a really good way to crush an infant,” he cocked his eyebrow and I could tell he was studying my face.

“It’s supposed to be really good for attachment, and there are all sorts of books on how to not crush the kid. I just think it would be good, given how important sleep is to both of us.”

“Bea, I don’t care if you want to breastfeed the kid until he or she is 6, but I don’t know how I feel about having a tiny human in our bed at all times. I mean suffocating it would be really bad press,” he laughed as if the whole conversation had been a joke.

“So we’ll talk about this later,” I shot him a playful scowl and made a mental note to bring up the subject when we were alone. I was slightly disappointed by his reaction but wasn’t surprised given the randomness at which I proposed the idea. The conversation had served its purpose though because before he could reply we were being called to board the plane and finally I had one less thing to wait for.

Typically a person going to California for a week with her husband would be on top of the world, marvelling at the lights, taking in the excitement, feeding into all of the tourist traps. But I, apparently, was not one of those people. Instead, I sat on the balcony of our hotel room feeling a special kind of miserable. It was our first day in L.A after flying in from Anaheim and Sidney had left me in favour of an optional skate, just before Larry had called and given me the day off. Realistically I had no reason to be grumpy but after spending four days on the road I was already desperate for my own bed. It was a new sensation, I’d never gotten homesick on road trips before, but sitting in the warm sun I longed for the comfort of my own bed and the private life Sidney and I had in our house.

I was pulled out of my self pitying by the familiar vibrating in my pocket. I’d been texting back and forth with Serena for the majority of the day, most of the messages were her scolding me for not taking advantage of being in the city of angels, and me whining about wanting to be home. I was surprised however, to find the unread message to be from Beau, who had entered himself into my contacts as ‘Mom’s Favorite’ when I wasn’t looking.

Beau:
Water yew dewing? May or may not have just ripped the only suit I brought. HALP MEH!

I chuckled at his intentionally ridiculous text speak and told him to come to the room and bring what was left of his suit. Minutes later there was a knock on my door and I opened it to find Beau holding his suit bag looking unimpressed.

“What did you do?” I took the suit out of the bag while he flopped into one of the stiff hotel chairs.

“I was cleaning off the sauce stain from last night, then James and I decided to have a ninja competition and I tripped and the coat got caught on the edge of the dresser and the pants split,” he mumbled, obviously embarrassed.

“You were washing it while you were wearing it?” I looked back at him astounded.

“Yeah, so I could find the spots,” Beau shrugged.

“The hotel has laundry service, eh?”

“Well it’s too late now,” he replied rolling his eyes. “My parents are coming to the game tomorrow and I’d like them to continue to believe I’m a well put together adult who can handle his own affairs.”

“They’re your parents, they’re aware of who you are. But I regret to inform you that this suit is done. He must be retired and laid to rest with all of the other clothing you’ve lost to roundhouse kicks and rough housing.” I gave him an over dramatic frown. “But in the world of good news, I have the day off…”

“And you’ll help me pick out a new one?” he jumped in before I could finish. He looked so hopeful that I couldn’t even screw with him and pretend I was going to say something else.

“Look, alls I’m saying is you might regret buying a purple suit,” I told him from my spot on the leather couch in the fitting area of the swanky Ted Baker’s mens department. I’d been sitting in the same spot for the last twenty minutes while Beau modelled a collection of suits for me, searching for my approval each time he emerged from the dressing room. I’d already convinced him to add the narrow fitting maroon one he’d claimed to ‘love’ in the ‘No’ pile and I was hoping he’d do the same with the purple jacquard tuxedo.

“I think it’s super fly!” he spun around and struck his best runway pose. “I mean who would expect me to have a purple patterny suit!”

“It’s very super fly, if you’re a slightly metrosexual european model who has a smaller frame than the average hockey player.” I pointed to the straining seams and too short pant legs. “You can buy whatever you want, Sunshine, I’m just trying to help.”

“It bothers me that you’re probably right,” he sulked and turned back to the dressing room.

“What? You’re not used to it yet?” I called after him, amused.

Forty minutes later we finally left, Beau having bought three new suits— one of which was a very Don Cherry-esque checker plaid three piece that I reluctantly approved— and me picking up a few beautiful ties that I planned to give Sidney but was seriously considering finding a way to wear myself. As we walked side by side down Robertson Blvd I became acutely aware of how underdressed I was. I was still relying on Sidney’s converse for to meet my daily shoe needs, and I’d paired a pair of leggings with a loose fitting maternity shirt, the whole get up would have probably looked fabulous on a pregnant socialite or movie star, but on me it looked sloppy and unkempt. To make matters worse the heat and humidity had made my hair frizzy and untameable and I was not nearly cool enough to pull of covering it all with a scarf, so instead I’d pulled it into a tight ponytail that only made my puffy face look rounder. Everything about me felt wrong and out of place. It wasn’t a new feeling though, I’d been feeling like a stranger in my own body for months, it was just exacerbated by the beautiful, put together people who passed us.

“There’s a Tory Burch and Michael Kors back there,” Beau pointed out as if to suggest I might want to make the the next stop on our journey.

“I won’t make enough in my entire career to warrant shopping at those stores,” I laughed and tried to hide my discomfort. Whether I could afford to shop there or not wasn’t what was keeping me from high end designer stores I usually enjoyed.

“Sorry, for a second I thought you were married to an NHL star, my bad,” he rolled his eyes and shot me a smart-ass smirk.

“I’m married to him, that doesn’t mean I have his contract,” I shifted uncomfortably and tried to adjust my bra without looking awkward. It wasn’t the best fitting undergarment to begin with, but the heat was making it stick to my skin and the wire kept poking me aggressively with every step we took. “I’m not one of those people who is just going to spend all of her husband’s money even though Michael Kors is really nice and I spilt tea on my bag last week.” I continued trying to adjust myself as we walked but was having no luck getting comfortable and gave up with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” Beau suddenly stopped in the middle of the busy sidewalk, forcing our fellow shoppers to walk around us.

“I’m fine,” I tried to brush him off and continue walking but felt his hand gently catch my arm before I could move.

“I don’t believe you,” his hand stayed on my arm and he focused on me intently. It didn’t seem to matter to him that we were in the way of everyone around us. Knowing he wouldn’t give up until I told him something I steered us out of the way into the shade of a building.

“I’m serious, there’s nothing actually wrong,” I forced a smile and tried to appear as enthusiastic as I could. “I’m just a little uncomfortable.”

“You’ve been a little off all week though,” he looked genuinely concerned and I was a little taken aback by it.

“I just feel out of place,” I turned my gaze to the hem of my shirt that I was fiddling with. I didn’t know why I was talking to him about my personal life, but it didn’t stop me from continuing. “I feel gross and uncomfortable all the time, my clothes don’t fit properly and I thought I was supposed to glow or something and love every minute of this baby growing business but I honestly am kind of hating. Not to mention with Haley taking over I don’t really have much to do at work so I’m just kind of here. I don’t like change and really want to be happy and enjoy this trip and being with you guys, but truthfully I’d rather be home eating ice cream with Luna and not surrounded by really tanned, pretty Californians, yourself excluded.”

“Okay so you have pretty good reasons to be grumpy then,” Beau let out a relaxed chuckle. “I mean if I were doing the whole pregnant thing I’d probably be kind of off too I guess.”

“Yeah, it’s not as fun as it looks. My expectations were way too high, I thought it would be all cute belly awesome new clothes, baby shopping. But so far it’s trying to figure out if I’m actually hungry, hoping that I can find something in my closet that fits, and I’ve been too preoccupied to even think about shopping because all I want to do is nap all day and all night,” I said with a smile and wiped away the sweat that had begun to form on my forehead.

“Y’know, if we walk about half a block north, I know for a fact we will run into an ice cream shop,” he draped his arm over my shoulders and pointed us in the right direction. “And I heard a rumour there’s a really cool over priced kids store right beside it. How lucky is that?” he gave me a wide grin and it was impossible to be miserable with his lanky arm around me and his mention of ice cream.

“The stars really are aligning for us aren’t they?” I laughed and followed his lead, merging back into the pedestrian traffic and heading north, with ice cream being the only thing important thing on my mind.

Notes

It's taken me longer to post this because i've been rereading the printed version of this story. And wow, am I ever sorry for all the typos.

Anyway, I feel like this chapter is a little more disjointed than the others. I'm having a bit of writers block lately which is strange because I've been super into writing the past few weeks. Basically I think need to find a fairy godmother who will sit and let me bounce ideas off of her and tell me when I'm out of my mind.

As per usual I love your comments! They really help me push through the block and all the other junk life likes to throw in the way and call 'adulting.'
Thank you!
xx-T

Comments

This was so good!!! I was in tears at the end when thinking about Sid retiring haha

Court31 Court31
2/17/21

Beautiful story.

Aleja21 Aleja21
10/29/18

This story was great and very relatable because of the beliefs that Bea and I share. You really captured the struggle of being in a relationship and making a marriage work. Keep up the good work and don't stop writing. :)

RoxPensChick RoxPensChick
9/17/17

@melindaone
I'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! Thanks for sticking through and reading :D :D



TheoAirplane TheoAirplane
9/11/17

Well, that was sooo good. I loved their story. I still do. Their love, strenght, humor..this all made me fall in love. So thank you for a chance to be a part of K.C. family.

melindaone melindaone
9/8/17