Stay, Stay, Stay

Somedays it scared me how quickly time passed. I could still vividly remember the day I walked into the Penguins’ dressing room and met Sidney. It felt like only hours ago he’d proposed in the bathtub, and minutes since Lachlan was born. But there we were, basking in the sunshine in our Nova Scotia backyard, surrounded by family and celebrating our second anniversary. Taylor and Nathan— who had recently gone public with their relationship— were chasing Lachlan, Felix, and Lyla around the grassy area beside me. At eighteen months old Lachlan was already comfortable on his feet and giving all of us a work out trying to keep track of him. Despite my biggest fears, he was a happy baby, content— unlike his mother—and always smiling.

“C’mere Spudly!” Nate caught him and swung him into the air while Lachlan screeched excitedly, his smile so big we could hardly see his eyes, just like Sidney’s. Other than the blonde hair and blue eyes he was still a miniature version of his dad. Sidney once tried to tell me that Lachlan looked more like me than I gave him credit for, but I couldn’t see it. He was all Sid, his disposition, his grin, the energy, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

A few feet away from me our mothers and my sisters in law sat at the picnic table engrossed in conversation while my brothers, Max, and Sid laughed loudly on the other side of the yard. Serena was entertaining my father and his with some exaggerated story about her last interview with Canadian musician Jim Cuddy, and I was watching it all. I liked being witness to their happiness in the serenity of the summer sunshine. Compared the months after Lachlan was born, I was a different person, but the routine of drugs and talk therapy hadn’t, and never would completely cure me, and in moments like this it was easier to witness the happiness than be in the thick of it all.

Things had been good between Sidney and I. Solid, and steady, we went through our days together as calmly as possible, slowly learning to take the time needed to discuss issues as they arose instead of letting it pile up as we had in the first year of our marriage. In fact, the last real fight I could recall had been in June at the NHL awards. I’d made a comment about the lack of non-objectified female representation at the awards, he’d told me to “relax and get over it” because the cameras were on us, and I’d faked a smile until we got back to the room where I locked him out, drank through the mini bar, and spent the night in a giant bubble bath FaceTiming Serena. I sloshed through mini bottles of Malibu and Smirnoff telling her all the insensitive things he’d ever said to me. I pounded back Jack Daniels while complaining that he didn’t understand, then after I’d run out of energy and the bubbles had started to pop, I said goodnight, unlocked the deadbolt, and crawled into bed. He was there when I woke up, and after a ten minute discussion we decided it was a stupid fight and spent the rest of the day walking down the Las Vegas strip collecting whatever people handed to us. Months later and I’d managed to avoid locking him out of any rooms or getting angry drunk, things were looking good.

“Happy Anniversary,” Simon smiled, slowly easing himself into the chair beside me. His smile was crooked, drooping on one side, and when he spoke it sometimes seemed like his tongue was too big for his mouth, both the result of a stroke. Just like I would never be the same postpartum, Simon would never be the same after the accident. His body ached, and his balance was off, but mentally he was still my goofy brother.

“Thanks,” I smiled back and closed my eyes, basking in the sunlight that shone warmly on my face. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” he shrugged almost tripping over the word. “I miss being able to play with them,” he looked towards the kids— who were still giggling and running around with Taylor and Nathan— longingly. Simon had always been a fast talker when we were growing up, energetic and quick to slip in a sarcastic remark or witty retort, but now he struggled with simple sentences and I could feel his frustration. He didn’t have the same stamina or vitality and it tore him up inside, but somehow we were closer than ever.

We didn’t say anything else, instead sat watching the three youngest members of our family laughing and playing in the plush grass. Everything felt right surrounded by happiness and affection. I watched Taylor sneakily kiss Nathan without the kids noticing and remembered the year Sidney and I had before becoming parents, the constant touching and need to be pressed against each other at all times. We still had our moments, but it wasn’t the same lustful interactions, Lachlan was the focus of our world and it didn’t seem so imperative to be all over each other. The funny thing was I think I loved him more after two years, a baby, and hundreds of arguments more than I did the day Simon married us. Everything was a little softer now, hushed and strategic to counter the never ending excitement that was Lachlan.

I could tell Lachlan was getting tired before he hit the grass crying. It was half past three and I was surprised he’d lasted that long. Taylor tried to calm him down as the tears rolled down his face but there were only two things he wanted and Auntie Taylor unfortunately couldn’t deliver on either of those. Shooting Simon a tired smile I pulled myself to my feet and swooped in before he went into a full melt down.

“Sorry,” Taylor gave me a weak smile. “He was fine, then just fell apart.”

“Don’t worry about it, he’s just tired,” I pushed his hair back from his sweaty forehead and held him a little tighter.

I lived for the moments we were alone together. Now that he was on solid food our quiet time was less frequent and I only breastfed him a few times throughout the day. We settled in on the rocking chair in his Scotia room that Sid had painted yellow and filled with pictures of our family. The room was much simpler than his room at home and just as rarely used, he was still spending most nights snuggled in our bed and I didn’t see that changing anytime soon, neither Sidney nor I had a problem with him sleeping with us. In fact having him in the bed meant that even when the season was packed with games and Sid was out late, we still had time to be together as a family.

Lachlan calmed down as soon as he’d latched on and I started rocking. It was the same most days, his mood would drop when it came time for his afternoon nap and I’d gather him up and take him someplace just the two of us. Somedays he’d fall asleep eating but others we’d lay down and I’d read to him whatever book I had handy. Now that he slept through the night, his nap time was no longer my time to sleep and I found myself enjoying the bit of silence that broke up the day. Even then, with a backyard full of people I could relax with him pressed against me.

“Can I come in?” Sid knocked softly on the door and poked his head in the room. Hearing his Daddy’s voice, Lachlan’s eyes shot open and he pulled away from me looking for him.

I smiled and nodded, trying to get Lachlan’s attention back. Sid knew what I was doing and tried not to distract him, closing the door then sticking to the edges of the room until Lachlan had latched back on. Sidney looked particularly good for having spent most of the day outside socializing, his skin was flushed from the sun and the tension that built in his face during the season having evaporated leaving behind a restful grin and easygoing chuckle. I like offseason Sidney the best. The intensity of hockey was put on the back burner and we are able to pretend to be normal. His role as the face of the franchise had been lessened with the addition of new, younger players, and neither of us was mourning the loss of the attention. He still had plenty of the spotlight, and always would, but his off ice deals were more relaxed leaving him more time to be home with us.

“I’ve barely seen you all day,” he kissed the side of my head once Lachlan had fallen asleep.

“I know, we’re very popular people,” I whispered as I got to my feet slowly to place my sleeping little human in his crib. Not willing to risk waking him, Sidney and I tiptoed out of the room and into our own bedroom across the hall.

“Having fun?” he asked casually as we lay on top of the made bed holding hands.

“A blasty-blast,” I smirked, wrinkling my nose then rolling over to kiss him. His hands landed on my hips chastely. This was nothing like the make out session we would have had two years before. Not because we didn’t want to, it just didn’t feel as necessary.

“Do you want to go back out?” he asked once our lips had separated and I lay with my head resting against his chest.

“Not yet,” I sighed. I could hear the laughter and conversations coming from outside and although I was enjoying the party, there was no place I’d rather have been than laying there with Sidney, no party could ever top that feeling. It was rare that we could be in our bubble with other people around. Since Lachlan was born there had been a constant string of people in and out of our house, meaning our moments alone together were few and far between. Our home had always been a hub of activity but it seemed to grow even more popular as time passed. I liked to credit Lachlan with this because despite his inability to form complete sentences he was the greatest form of entertainment. He and Beau spent countless hours running around the house, shooting at each other with the mini sticks and nets we’d set up in the living room, and just generally making a lot of noise and even more mess. I didn’t generally like having people around all the time, but I kind of enjoyed the excitement when the younger members of the team came over. They were test subjects for my new project— learning how to cook, and a distraction from the daily stress of trying to fend off the constant anxiety and depression. It was easier to exist surrounded by goofy young hockey players and their never ending energy.

“What do you want life to look like in another two years?” Sid asked randomly, breaking through the silence that had filled the space around us.

“What do you mean?” I propped myself up on my elbow so I could study his face. He was asking a very Beatrice question out of no where.

“I don’t know, I was just thinking about that last two years. It feels like it’s been longer.”

“It does doesn’t it.” In some ways it felt like hours and minutes, but in others like a lifetime. I couldn’t fully recall what my life looked like without him. The person I was seemed like a fictional character that I could only remember because I’d read about her. The person who had been with Millie and worked at the private gym for just above minimum wage was a distant memory. Of course in many ways I hadn’t changed, I was just as neurotic as ever, my collection of brightly coloured body art continued to grow, and I had yet to grow out of One Direction or Green Day.

“So in August of 2017, what do you want to have accomplished?” he let his head fall to the side and waited eagerly for my answer.

“I want to find something,” I began. “Not like a job or a hobby, just something beyond the WAGs community work and being home with Lachlan. I miss being engrossed in something the way I used to be.”

“Do you want to go back to work?” he cut in.

“Yes, and no,” I pondered. “I miss it, but I don’t want Lachlan to suffer by having two parents who are on the road. And in a way it doesn’t seem fair to take the job from someone who really needs the money, y’know?”

He nodded. “Yeah, that makes sense. If you really wanted though I’m sure we could get you a spot with junior team.”

“Maybe,” I smiled letting the idea roll around my mind.

“So what else?” he prodded. I had to stop myself from being suspicious at the random intensity of his questions.

“I don’t know,” I laughed. “Maybe lose 30lbs and learn how to play the accordion.”

“Losing weight isn’t an acceptable answer,” he frowned.

“Fine, then by August of 2017 I want to be pregnant again.” I laughed, expecting it to throw him off, maybe scare him a little. Instead he grinned and kissed me again.

“That’s the answer I was looking for,” he winked then let go of me and got to his feet to head back to the party.

“You could have just asked!” I called after him rolling my eyes. “Dork.”

Figuring I’d been away from the party long enough, I pushed myself off of the bed and followed Sidney out of the room. He was already back in the action by the time I got to the kitchen and I figured a few more minutes inside wouldn’t do any harm. I don’t know why I decided to use the main bathroom instead of our en suite, but it never occurred to me I would open the door and come face to face with my worst nightmare. With Lachlan mobile, it had become habit for us to keep all doors closed lest he decide to play in the toilet water or eat something that was not meant to be ingested, so I didn’t think to knock before swinging open the bathroom door just off of the living room. Oh how small acts become life long regrets, how the simplest of actions can change our entire futures. What I found on the other side of the door was not the pristine white porcelain bathtub I had spent an hour scrubbing, or the abstract painting I’d hung on the wall, but Serena and Andy. There are very few reasons for two people to be alone in a bathroom, and he wasn’t helping her with her makeup or bandaging a wound. Instead, my brother and best friend were pressed against each other, hand flying, pants around their ankles and sweat glistening on their bodies.

“NO!” I screamed, covering my eyes and trying to back away but bumping into the wall. “Nooooo.”

“Oh my god,” Serena gasped and I heard the sound of them hurrying to get dressed. “I’m so sorry, I thought I locked the door.”

“There are only two people allowed to have sex in this bathroom and neither of yous are on that list,” I gagged, my eyes still clamped shut but the image of my brother’s bare ass burnt into my eyelids. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I felt someone brush past me but stayed frozen against the wall.

“I’m really sorry, Bea. I can’t believe that just happened.” Serena tried to pacify me but I was too revolted to listen. “You can open your eyes, he’s gone.”

“No,” I whimpered. “I can’t look at you.”

“Fine,” I heard her rustling around the bathroom and I expected her to leave in a huff, but instead she pulled me inside the scene of the crime then a few seconds later tole me to open my eyes. Her voice was slightly muffled and I was hesitant to open myself up to whatever horrors might be standing in front of me.

Slowly I began to pull them open, letting the light in and opening the left eye to survey the area before opening the right. The bathroom looked untouched, and Serena was gone. It was like nothing had happened.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice coming from behind the shower curtain.

“I don’t really know how to process my feelings right now,” I admitted and sat on the toilet seat, dropping my head in my hands.

“I don’t either,” she chuckled and I heard one of the shampoo bottles fall from the edge of the tub and land beside her.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to…. finish… god that’s disgusting,” I groaned trying to push the image out of my mind.

“Well I guess we’re even now?” she offered pathetically

“Not even close!” I cried. “You walked into my room while I was with my now husband not your brother!”

“Okay, you might have a point.”

“So…” I sighed after a few seconds of silence, willing myself to ask questions. “Is this like a thing?”

I heard the curtain rustle then saw her head pop out before she pulled it back. “I’m not really sure.”

“Well has it happened before?”

“Once,” she squeaked. “A few days ago, when we got here. But it’s been a long time coming.”

“I guess you’re right,” I chuckled. My chuckle turned to a giggle, then a laugh and soon enough we were both sitting in the bathroom laughing.

The saga of Serena and Andy began the summer before grade nine. It was the summer Andy finally saved enough to buy the forrest green convertible from my uncle, it was also the summer that we saw above average rainfall. On one of the rare sunny days of that August month, Serena and I had set up camp in the apple orchard, laying in the shade of the trees and flipping through magazines. I was wearing my usual black uniform but Serena was dressed far more appropriately in a bikini top and denim skirt, the kind of outfit I desperately wish I had the body for. It was unusual for Andy, or any of my brothers for that matter, to join Serena and me, but for some reason when we looked up from the article about Michelle Branch’s skyrocket to success, we found the gawkiest of my brothers walking towards us.

“Can I help you?” I glared at him, a look I had perfected after hours of listening to punk rock and studying how to appear apathetic and miserable.

“What are you doing?” he sat on the edge of the blanket and I rolled my eyes, he so was not invited to join us.

“Nothing,” I snapped. It was just so uncool to be nice to your brother, no matter what he was about to offer.

“It’s sunny, do you want to go to the beach?” he directed the question more to Serena who was smiling eagerly. “My plans like fell through or whatever,” he added, making it very clear we were not his first choice.

“Yes!” Serena answered for us and elbowed her in the side to display my displeasure. “It’s not like we’re doing anything else,” she hiss at me.

“Fine,” I groaned, I didn’t want them to know that the beach actually sounded like a lot of fun. “But not Brackley, it’s always so full of tourists.”

“And Basin Head is any better? It’s got a damn board walk. Besides, I’m not paying to go to a beach, that’ stupid.” Brackley Beach vs. Basin Head… a long time Keller family debate that always ended in someone stating that paying to get into a beach was stupid.

“Whatever,” I shrugged, it wasn’t lie I cared anyway, I was way too punk rock to care about anything other than how the man was ruining us.

“I like Panmure,” Serena added, batting her eyelashes. So it was settled, we were going to Panmure.

We drove with the top down, Serena in the front seat with Andy while I sat under a blanket in the back, the wind ruining my hair. I listened half heartedly as they chattered back and forth, pretending to be completely disinterested, lest I blow my cover and appear to be enjoying anything the world had to offer. I spent most of that day watching them, even at thirteen I knew that I was better at watching events than participating in them. Although I wouldn’t have admitted it, I enjoyed witnessing their interactions, I’d never considered my best friend and my brother in the same context. Being too self conscious to take off my black t-shirt, I settled on the beach, close enough that I could see enough, but far enough that i was dry, and let Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar keep me company. I had a quiet routine, I’d read a page, watch the people around me for a few minutes, then read another page. It was my own way of participating without having to commit. A few meters away Andy was chasing Serena through the waves and she was laughing manically, the ends of her hair already damp with salt water.

On the drive home we stopped for ice cream, the three of us eating cones at a picnic table because Andy couldn’t bear the idea of food in his new car. They sat beside each other while I took the bench on the other side, I should have known then that she was interested in him. But that night, when we crawled under the covers for our hundredth sleep over of the summer, she turned on her side and whispered.

“Would you be angry if I told you I think I like your brother?”

“Which one?” I wrinkled my nose.

“Andy, duh,” she giggled nervously.

“Maybe,” I shrugged. Inside I was disgusted, on the verge of panicking but I didn’t want her to feel bad. All I could think was how I’d lose her if she got any boyfriend, let alone my own brother, and nothing made me sicker than the thought of losing her.

Her face fell at my response and she mumbled an “oh” before rolling over and falling asleep. Until I opened that bathroom door that had been her last serious mention of my brother. I took her cheeky comments about his love life and body as nothing more than teasing, and selfishly refused to explore the subject further with her. So really, Andy and Serena had been a long time building.

*****
Our third anniversary had come and gone when Sidney began his twelfth season in the NHL, Lachlan was half way through what was shaping up to be very mild terrible twos and, I’d gotten three new tattoos. It was then that the conversation of a second baby really came up, and unlike my reaction to finding out about the first one, I was perfectly okay with the idea. In fact, I think I was more enthusiastic about the idea than Sidney was. Somedays I wished I could find that end, that moment my whole life had been leading up to. For a long time I anticipated that having Lachlan would bring that moment, that his presence in my life would come with a sense of a fulfillment and belonging, and in some ways it did. He gave me a reason to pull myself out of bed on the dreariest of mornings, and everything I did was with his best intentions in mind. But with his third birthday only a few months away and his independence growing everyday I started to notice a different kind of longing forming inside of me. I prayed that a fourth member of the family would complete us. It would be completely unfair to say that we weren’t happy; when Sidney was home we were the picture of contentment. I could sit for hours watching him with Lachlan. When he was home it was like he’d never left, he jumped in, all hands on deck, helping me maintain some kind of normalcy for our constantly growing little human. Things were peaceful when he was home, so I clung to those days, forcing the ones without him out of my mind.

When Sidney was away, Lachlan and I had a solid schedule. We coloured, danced in the living room, went swimming, hung out with his playgroup, and baked cookies. I did everything I could to keep us busy, and even though I felt awkward around the other parents at the toddler social events, I wanted him to grow up around a variety of different kids and not just people with fathers who played in the league. At two and a half he liked orange juice, scrambled eggs, chasing Luna, and yes we were still breast feeding. We skyped with Sidney every night he was away and on especially long road trips would leave drawings and letters in his suitcase. There were days when being awake felt like too much work, but that was never Lachlan’s fault, and on the worst of days he spent time with Auntie Serena, Mario— who had become his surrogate grandfather during the season, or Colbie when she was home. But those days weren't as common as I’d anticipated, and surprisingly I loved being at home with him, even if I did dream about working again.

He was three months shy of his third birthday when Grandma Shirley and Grammy Trina decided to take a trip across the boarder to visit. It was only a month before Christmas but my mother claimed she had a book signing in the area, and she and her new BFF would take any reason to come visit. We certainly weren’t complaining. With two very qualified Lachlan sitters at home, Sidney and I were given our first stretch of time away from him. I was back in my seat on the Penguins charter plane heading to Canada, and unbeknownst to our mothers, we had a plan for the trip.

“I missed having you here,” Sidney wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his body. We were only a quarter the way into the long flight to Edmonton, but with a blanket draped over us, a book in his hand and a movie playing on my iPad, we’d already fallen back into our long neglected plane routine.

I ran my free hand along his inner thigh and looked up at him. “I’ve missed this,” I said quietly, my fingers creeping closer to his seatbelt. “I’ve missed you.” We hadn’t been completely celibate in the last two years, but undisturbed time alone was a hot commodity, one we usually spent literally sleeping together- side by side.

“God, I’ve definitely missed tis,” he groaned deeply while my hand moved higher.

“I’ve spent the last two weeks looking forward to tonight,” I smirked.

“If you keep doing that I’m not going to make it to landing, let alone the hotel,” he warned, then kissed the top of my head casually. My hand was now firmly on the bulge of his pants. “Are you wanting to make a baby in the air?”

I considered it briefly, it would be an interesting story to tell, but recalling the bruises I had after the last time we tried to get it on in an airplane bathroom I quickly declined his offer and settled for some innocent petting under the blanket in the meantime.

His hand brushed against my thigh gently, concealed by the table he rested it on the bare skin found under my dress, he was retaliating after the teasing I’d subjected him to on the long plane ride. Even years after going public we were still experts at hiding our interactions. Seated in a posh downtown Edmonton restaurant with most of the Penguins team, and Sidney’s hand was inching further and further up my dress, a silent preview of what was to come the minute we got back to the hotel. He’d tried to talk me out of going to the team dinner, and while we both wanted to stay in, there was something intriguing about prolonging the pleasure. It had been weeks since our last night alone, and I’d since been left to my own devices, I wanted to make it worth it and the waiting was driving me crazy in the best way possible.

“Mine or yours?” he whispered jokingly in my ear, his warm breath tickling my sensitive skin. It was a cheeky homage to our first season together spent making secret plans. We’d finished our meal and his fingers were eagerly drawing circles on the inside of my thigh, so close to where I wanted him but still so much distance.
“Either or,” I replied with a wink, putting my hand over his. “I’d be fine with the back of the taxi at this point.” Next to us Geno and a few of our other dining partners roared with laughter at the punchline of someone’s joke. I was thankful they were distracted as I let my hand wander to Sid’s lap. His groan was barely audible, but enough to send me into a whole deeper state of desire.

After the bill had finally come we broke away from the group and stumbled into the backseat of a taxi, barely pulling our lips apart to tell the driver the address. Hands gripping fabric and pawing at each other needfully. In reality the drive from the swanky restaurant to our hotel was maybe ten minutes, but with my head clouded with desperation, it felt like hours. Fiddling with the key card for an insufferable minute or two, the door to Sidney’s single suit finally swung open and we tripped over one another into the privacy of the room.

“Fucking finally,” he mumbled, slamming his lips into mine. “Think you can handle waiting another two minutes?” he pulled away and looked at me endearingly.

“If I have to,” I sighed as he headed for the bathroom.

I quickly kicked off my shoes and put my iPhone on the speaker dock, pressing play on the third playlist which was titled Come Pick Me Up after the first song. A sultry track by Ryan Adams that would serve as the perfect soundtrack for conception. I turned off the overhead light in favour of the bedside lamps and sat on the bed. Our room was tidy and looked as if it hadn’t been touched, I knew that wouldn’t last long. I briefly considered taking off my dress and laying out seductively but decided against it when I heard the water running in the bathroom and the door unlock.

Sidney emerged from the bathroom and looked me up and down. His eyes were filled with lust and before I could say anything his lips were pressed against mine with his body was leaning over me. His hands on my back, he pulled me closer to his standing body, motioning for me to stand up. I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, his tongue slipping between my teeth. The intensity of his kiss left me all the more anxious for his touch. His kisses were slow and sloppy, telling me more than words ever could. As my heart fluttered and the heat under my dress rose, I was lost in a world where we were the only people. His hand slipped under my dress and squeezed my bum, digging his fingers into my flesh eagerly. I pressed by body tighter too him, feeling the bulge in his pants against my stomach, which only made me more excited.

This was who we’d been for just a short year. Wild with lust and an unquenchable need for passion. As he peeled off my dress and left me standing in front of him in the same underwear he’d seen a hundred times I knew this was better than who we’d been before. Unlike those days, I didn’t shy away from his gaze, or rush eagerly into the main event, I was comfortable beside him in silence and the potential that came with unprotected sex was the last thing that would send me running.

Our clothes were gone when we finally made our way to the bed, all hands and tongues, and skin on skin. Having a purpose to it all made every touch just that much more electric, and every movement deliberate. His hips pressing against mine, his rhythmic motions steady, it was heavy eye contact and a mutual crescendo into bitten lips and fingertip size bruises.

It was the first of many times that trip, hell of that night. Our mission was clear and in the new year, we’d find out if we’d been successful, but for those hours spend alone together, it was about more than procreation, it was about remembering who we’d been and loving who we’d become together.

Notes

Please excuse any typos or spelling errors, I was too excited to get this out to do a proper edit (like most chapters, man I need to add that to the self improvement list)

So this is a change of pace. I really hope you guys like it. The next few chapters will be snapshots of their life in the future. I just couldn't stand the idea of not sharing how everything turns out. I'm glad this is online and not published yet because I have a feeling any editor would kill me at this point, what with well over 200,000 words written.

I love getting comments on this story! They make my life substantially more exciting, nothing is better than sitting at work digitizing old archived files and getting an email saying I have a comment! Keep them coming, I have about 2,000 more files of random papers (some not so pleasant) to scan so I need all the good vibes I can get.

xx- T