September 2014

“Class, can you thank Jamie and Tyler for coming in today?” the teacher’s voice instructed the group of first-graders staring up at the teammates, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. It was as if heroes had descended upon them and not simply two members of the local sports team.

Seguin sniggered; Jamie elbowed him into silence, tossing the teacher an apologetic face. With a wave of her hand, his teammate’s immaturity was forgotten, a small price to pay on account of dropping in to deliver season’s tickets to the Stars fan.

It was part of the team’s work to reach out to the community, to gear up for a season of looming expectations - and with a camera crew in tow, two of the team’s biggest stars had spent the last half hour coloring with a gaggle of kids, part of ticket delivery to their teacher.

“Thaaaaaaaaaaaank you,” the children chanted in unison, as the team’s videographers packed up their gear, ready to move on to the next visit of the day.

“Alright, guys,” Jamie furrowed his brow in mock seriousness, turning to face the class after shaking their teacher’s hand. “Season starts in a few weeks, and we need you cheering us on - so we’d better see you out at the rink come October, eh?”

“Your moms, too,” Tyler piped up.

Jamie clapped a hand around the center’s mouth, pushing him out the door before any further damage could be caused. It was only September - they had a whole season’s worth of Seguin’s antics to get through.

“Jesus, Chubb,” Tyler gasped through his laughter when the door closed behind them, leaving the two alone in the empty school hallway. “Uptight, much?”

It was the understatement of the month - or five months, if Jamie was being honest with himself. Five months, since she’d slipped out of his life, since the last time he’d seen Veronica; since the playoffs had started and ended as abruptly. Five months of texts, phone calls, emails - without so much a response.

If his concern over Veronica’s welfare had seemed like as though a mountain of regret, of guilt - now was now a valley of despair, the comfort of her presence ripped away without so much a warning. Through the aftermath of their defeat to the Ducks, the ensuing off-season and the lead-up to the one lying before them, Jamie wondered if this is what it felt like - in a small, incremental way - for her to have Jeremy torn away, all those months ago.

“Helloooooooo,” Tyler waved a hand in front of his captain, pulling Jamie from his reverie, the daze that he’d seemed to have fallen into over the last few months.

“Nevermind,” he growled, shaking his head before shouldering past his teammate, down the hall towards freedom.

It was their last commitment of the afternoon, before the next day’s first pre-season game, the march towards the kickoff of October - the countdown for the Cup. The last thing Jamie wanted was to spend the afternoon talking about his feelings - and certainly not with someone like Seguin.

Down the hall, the heels of Jamie’s sneakers squeaked against the linoleum - Tyler chirped his shoe choice like a little brother. It felt like the years Jamie spent in middle school back in Canada, when nobody except his parents thought he might make it big, when he was just a regular kid in a regular school, getting pushed around.

Like brothers would, Jamie and Tyler shoved each other playfully, laughing as they made their way down the hall. Jeers were tossed, jokes second nature, until Jamie pushed a little too hard, sending his teammate sailing into a nearby set of lockers - the sound reverberating off the metal. Even Seguin drew in a breath as he glanced around, waiting for their impending punishment.

It didn’t take a minute - the sound of heels clicking on floors was the universal signal, the doom that faced them.

“Dude, you’re in so much shit,” Tyler chuckled, waiting for their impending doom.

“Shut up,” Jamie hissed, eyes narrowing at the center, before seeing Seguin’s mouth drop open. Spinning on a heel, Benn felt his chest tighten, his heart race.

His gaze traveled along tan heels, a wine-colored skirt that skimmed along the knees of its wearer, an short-sleeved animal print blouse tucked in at the waist. He couldn’t help admire any more than that, before his eyes met the face staring back at him.

“Veronica,” his voice managed to squeak, throat constricting.
__

What the hell is going on out there?

It’d been Veronica’s first thought, midway through a history lesson on tensions between German settlers in Brazil. Keeping the attention of third-graders in the first month of school, when the skies of Texas were still sunny and summer vacation still tasted like a juicy strawberry, was always a challenge.

Nevermind when ruckus out in the hallway threatened to derail the best-laid lesson plans.

She’d tossed her laser pointer onto the desk, telling the class she’ll be back in a second - their attentions were already lost towards the hall, where there seemed to be a stampede of elephants parading throughout the school.

As best as her pumps could carry her, Veronica stomped out of the classroom - coming inches within the face she’d been trying to forget for months.

“Veronica,” Jamie whispered like he had all those months ago in his bed, his breath along her cheek.

From the lessons she’d taught her class, Veronica knew the definition of fight or flight - the physiological reaction occurring in response to a perceived harmful event, a threat to survival. But seeing Jamie up close and in person, the adrenaline running through her veins reminded her all too well of the feeling.

And of a mistake you’d rather forget, her mind blared.

Months after slipping out of Dallas, her heart broken, mind weary, setting eyes on Jamie was like taking in a tall drink of water after dying of thirst: his chestnut locks were even shorter, swooping over his forehead like he styled that hair in the simplest of wrist flicks; adding to the tattoos she knew adorned his forearm were complements, what appeared to be a sleeve of intricate filigrees, peeking underneath the sleeve of his Stars jersey.

What remained the same since that April morning, were those eyes - amber-hued and oozing with hurt, creased with concern as he stared back at her. It punched Veronica right in the gut - the very reason she ran away in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” she blurt out. Very helpful.

Jamie winced, the words cutting across his skin like knives. A million questions sprung to his mind: where have you been? why didn’t you return my calls? months since you left and that’s the first thing you say?

The words tangled on his tongue, rendering him unable to speak as he stared at the beauty before him, mesmerized by the auburn hair that by now fell down her back, straightened - like Veronica knew armor would be needed.

In the awkward silence, Tyler came to his rescue - looking between them, sensing the stare off.

“Hey, Veronica,” he stepped forward, in front of his captain. “How are ya?”

It broke the spell - cut like a knife, snapped her away from staring at Jamie like she’d seen a ghost.

“Sorry, Ty,” she smiled, reaching out to squeeze his forearm. The gesture was so casual, so second nature - Jamie couldn’t help the jealousy. “I didn’t expect to see...what are - what are you guys...why are--”

“We’re delivering season’s tickets,” Tyler saved her, nodding his head towards the classroom from which they'd departed. “Ms. Dobson.”

It instantly clicked - the confusion on Veronica’s face disappeared, replaced by the smile absent for so long. It lit up her face, as she glanced between the two players.

“Gloria?” she grinned. “I didn’t know she was a fan. Goodness, if I’d known-”

“You work here?” Jamie interrupted, too consumed by the fact that with her disappearance, the evaporation from his life just as much as she’d been so much a part of it in the days after Jeremy’s death, she’d been here, in Dallas the whole time.

They turned - both of them, Veronica and Tyler - to stare at the captain, at his outburst, the demand for answers.

“Jame-” Tyler started, before a touch of her hand on his arm silenced his chastising.

Veronica knew there was much to be said that could not in the corridor, with his teammate beside them. Why her cowardice got the better of her, why she’d been unable to face him in the months since he provided such comfort to her - why she couldn’t seem to fight the racing of her heart as her eyes met Jamie’s.

“I do,” she sighed, nodding. She offered a small smile at him before turning to his teammate, glancing over her shoulder. “And I need to get back.”

Tyler squeezed her shoulder - a moment that, for the center with a lecherous past, felt surprisingly chaste. “Good to see you,” he smiled.

Veronica felt it all the way to her heart as she turned to face Jamie, the pain still in his eyes as she turned away yet again.

“You too,” she said quietly, the click of her heels softly fading away.
__

It’s not like you could have avoided him forever, a part of her said.

You could have tried, the other insisted. Dallas isn’t that big.

Veronica’s fingers slid over the silver chain adorning her neck, down to its pendant: the engagement ring Jeremy had given her, the one she used to spin around her finger in anxious moments like this.

From the perch of her desk overlooking the outfield next to the school, she saw clouds rolling in - thunderstorms, as if the universe knew today and everything with it was coming.

Class long over, assignments turned in from her students marked and ready to be handed back the next day, Veronica was still unable to pull herself from the chair and leave - the moment with Jamie had left her rattled.

There was something in his voice - the soft tenor, the gentle lisp - that felt like home: safe, warm. In the sanctity of her classroom, Veronica told herself it was only because of the comfort Jamie provided in the days after Jeremy died - the dark moments she avoids slipping back to, now nearly six months later.

Progress had been made in her life - for which she was proud. A new school, new home, new friends - turns out losing the love of your life made her realize just how much of it was tied up in the other, and when it all fell apart, starting from nothing really meant starting from scratch. Seeing Jamie made Veronica realize how fragile that was - how she really was, even after all the months that had passed.

That soft mouth staring back at her, the lips rounded in shock...she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Plus it didn’t help how good the rest of him looked - Veronica wasn’t blind to the way his jersey seemed more filled out from the last time she saw Jamie slip it over his head.

The thought alone seared guilt across her like a brand, as if she must carry the memory of Jeremy for some obligatory duration of mourning.

“Ronnie?”

Turning, her fingers dropped the chain - and ring - back in its safe spot, along the hollow of her throat, where it couldn’t be seen. Her eyes flicked to the door, to the face of her co-worker standing with her coat on, purse over a shoulder.

“Hey, Shan,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair.

Shannon frowned, checking her watch. “What’s going on? Class ended hours ago - what’re you still doing around?”

“I had math tests to mark,” Veronica fussed with the papers on her desk, assembling the collection into a neat stack. “Plus tomorrow’s lesson plan-”

“It was him, wasn’t it?”

Green eyes blinked up at Shannon’s blue - a co-worker who, like any sage educator, could see when more was going on beneath the surface.

They’d only known each other a few weeks, but in that time the two women had become fast friends, allies amongst near-retirees who wanted little to do with the young, single teachers at the school. In the first days of getting her bearings, Veronica took solace in finding an ally - someone who could show her the ropes, someone she could count on - a friend when these days they didn’t seem to come so easily.

Especially when the inevitable moment happened of Jamie coming back into her life.

Crossing the space between them, Shannon set her purse on the desk, leaning a hip against it. Teachers or not, girl time was required when the NHL stopped by the office.

Veronica exhaled a long, slow breath, finally meeting her friend’s eyes.

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“I heard sex on skates was here today,” she grinned, “but I had no idea it was El Capitan…”

“Shannon!” Veronica cried, swatting the brunette’s arm.

Palms upturned, her eyes went wide. “I’m just saying, there’s something about those Canadian boys that makes me want to see if they’re really all that shy, you know?”

“Stop!” the redhead giggled, a sound that only months ago would have felt foreign. Her mother had been right - in time, the feeling, all feelings would come back.

Including some notably absent ones, she couldn’t help but think, giving her friend the evil eye.

“So how’d he look?” Shannon asked exasperatedly, her laughter falling away.

A long pause fell between them - Veronica pursed her lips, Shannon raised both eyebrows. In the weeks that their friendship had blossomed, the story - the accident, the despair, the solace she’d sought - had spilled out of Veronica, desperate to have some sort of a reprieve for her guilt, the way she’d simply slipped out of Jamie’s life. And now, with the day’s events, her friend clearly wasn’t taking silence as an answer.

Leaning both elbows on her desk, Veronica’s hair spilled over her face.

“Fantastic,” she said softly, as if by only murmuring it she might absolve herself of the guilt that ripped across her.

Veronica’s anguish was plain as day - just like the sparkle of her engagement ring glittering from her throat, where she thought it wasn’t visible. Contrasted with the way she spoke of Jamie, it was clear the torment still plagued her daily.

“Ronnie,” the young teacher sighed, sitting on one of the desks facing Veronica’s. “We’ve been over this before.”

“I know,” Veronica replied, casting her gaze again out towards the rolling thunderclouds.

“And yet here you are,” Shannon muttered, under her breath. Green eyes snapped back to meet hers. “Seriously - beginning of the year, you’re still hanging around, hours after school’s done?”

“I told you--”

“You’re avoiding,” her friend snapped, eyes hard. Veronica’s jaw dropped open, pink lips forming a perfect ‘o’ in exasperation. “It. Him. The whole thing.”

Shoving back her chair, the redhead got to her feet, yanking open a drawer. Veronica refused to meet Shannon’s eyes as she rooted around for her things, the accoutrements she’d brought for the day.

“Am not.” A flat out lie.

“I had to go back to class.” The falsity she’d been turning over again all afternoon, like a coin to be shined to perfection.

Finally, green eyes meeting hazel orbs. “It’s not like he wanted to see me.”

The drew a scoff from her friend. “Yeah, right,” Shannon sneered, arms crossed over her chest. “If it was anything like what you told me about the funeral, I’d be he was all about--”

“I have to go,” Veronica cut her off, grabbing her purse and turning on a heel. A shock of auburn hair flew over her shoulder as the same heels that’d clicked down the hall, drawing Jamie’s attention, led the way out of the classroom.

A grin spread over Shannon’s face as she followed her colleague out of the classroom. “Oh, sure, now there’s a fire,” she teased. “Storm’s a comin’ and now someone’s gotta get home in a flash.”

“Do you ever let up?” Veronica grumbled, although a smirk spread across her face. It still felt awkward, bizarre to let the muscles in her face do that, the inevitable reaction to being around Shannon. “Clarence needs to be fed - so unless you’d like to stop by and--”

“Say no more,” Shannon shook her head, in reference to the kitten Veronica had recently adopted. Both girls giggled as they made their way through the empty hallway, their laughter reverberating off the metal lockers lining the corridor.

It carried them out and into the fading light of day, the Texas sun hanging low in the sky as thunderclouds rolled in across the horizon. Veronica could smell rain in the air as she turned towards Shannon, brushing the wisps of copper hair blowing in her face from the breeze.

“I’m making pizza, by the way,” she started, carefully making her way down the concrete steps in front of the elementary school, watching each step along the way. “I mean, if you don’t have dinner plans…”

“No,” her friend said suddenly, the tone insistent and sharp. Veronica stopped suddenly on her pumps, glancing up in confusion at the brunette. A smile spread across Shannon’s face, as her eyes fixed across the street facing the school. “I don’t - but you do.”

“Huh?” Veronica spun on a heel, locks flying across her face.
__

Finally, Jamie thought.

Hanging around an elementary schoolyard drew a lot of attention, especially when you were a single, young guy, waiting in your car with nothing to do.

Exactly as Jamie had been doing, since Veronica had fled from arms reach, a few hours earlier. After parting ways with Seguin, promises of meeting up for a late dinner - promises Jamie had no intention of keeping - Benn had gotten in his Benz, driven around the block a few times to ensure Tyler was out of sight, and parked back in front of the school.

For unlike his teammate, he couldn’t get Veronica out of his mind. Hadn’t been able to for months, when she’d slipped out of his life and evaporated into thin air - poof, gone like a flash.

No one from the team had heard from her - nary a contact in the front office, either. It didn’t bode well for Benn to go poking around about the fiancée of their recently deceased colleague - rumours on a hockey team were like death and taxes, guaranteed certainties - but he couldn’t help himself.

He’d spent the night, in his bed, with Veronica as asked - only to find her gone the next morning. Not a note, a text, a call - all traces, vanished.

So to see her at the school, fresh-faced and beautiful - minutes from the rink, the market where he’d stopped for lunch after practice that season…

He couldn’t help himself.

“Stalker,” Jamie had muttered to himself under breath each time someone walked by the car, peering into the windows to see him slouched in the front seat, pretending to be engrossed in his phone.

By the late afternoon, he’d nearly pulled the chute on the whole thing - maybe there was another way to get Veronica a message, to let her know he still cared. That they all still cared.

After three hours of cramped living in his sedan, Jamie’s six-foot-two frame was crying out for mercy - he didn’t fit well into any vehicle for that long, no matter what luxuries an NHL salary purchased.

Getting out of the car to stretch his legs was a necessity - and stepping onto the concrete, he heard it.

“Jamie?”

The asphalt pavement crunched under the sole of Jamie’s sneaker, and it flashed in his mind, reminding him: just like the night he met Veronica, all those years ago.

Wind blew hair back away off her shoulders in waves, illuminating the cleft of her chin, her high cheekbones. The same inquisitive look she’d had in the hallway, without the anger of discovering what had thought to be misbehaving students; soft green eyes framed by thick lashes, a hand over her eyes as if Veronica couldn’t believe the sight before her, either.

You’re beautiful, Jamie wanted to say.

“Hi,” he managed to gulp instead.

She giggled, despite the earlier moment between them, the months of silence, the morning after she’d left him without a trace - the first time he’d heard Veronica laugh in what felt like an eternity. It left Jamie dumbfounded.

Veronica shook her head at the sight of him, in jeans and a white t-shirt, standing frozen on spot, across the street from the curb where she and Shannon stood. Now she could see them: the dark lines of ink roped around Jamie’s arm from the edge of his shirtsleeve to the wrist of his watch, which had been covered earlier by the green of his Stars jersey. Even from afar the tattoos were intricate filigrees, fine drawings permanently etched into his skin.

Veronica tried not to stare, shaking her head in the moment.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, shrugging her shoulders.

Forty feet divided them - but to Jamie, it felt like a mile. How to convey months’ worth of worry, of anger, of the futile actions of trying to track her down with nothing to show?

To say nothing for the years of watching someone else love her.

The moment stretched between them, the silence shifting from bearable to awkward. Shannon elbowed Veronica from her watchful perch, in the shadow behind the tall redhead.

Shannon leaned in, out of earshot. “Go to him.”

“What?” Veronica glanced over her shoulder, glaring.

“Jesus Christ,” Shannon groaned. “A hot piece of manmeat shows up, practically begging to talk to you and here you are, just waiting for him--”

“I am not!” she hissed, as Shannon’s eyes narrowed. Both hands came up, shoving her copper-headed friend onto the empty street - towards Jamie.

“Shannon!” Veronica cried, stumbling to recover and nearly tripping in her heels. She managed to swing the purse she’d carried over a shoulder, uprighting herself - just feet away from him.

“Oh,” she exhaled sharply, brushing errant strands of hair out of her face. “Hi.”

Whether from seeing her tumble, the girl before him, or Veronica’s unusual lack of grace - he couldn’t help it. The smile spread across his face.

“Hey.”

Her heart fluttered - Veronica told herself it was just the adrenaline rushing, from the way her friend had pushed her into oncoming traffic, and not the dimple in his cheek, the way his eyes creased at the corners. Heat flushing up the back of her neck, Veronica cast her gaze downward.

“That was Shannon,” she grumbled, looking sharply towards the other side of the street, where her friend was waving grinning widely, headed towards the staff parking lot. Clearly her friend’s work was done for the day. “We work together.”

“Seems like Segs,” Jamie’s voice drew her back, the soft, gentle lilt overlaid with the warmth from his smile. Her annoyance forgotten, Veronica glanced back to find the grin still lighting up his face, the caramel eyes catching the last of the Texas afternoon before the sun dropped away for the evening.

It drew her back to that April night, the days after Jeremy’s death, when everything about Jamie had seemed so….warm. So safe. When all he seemed to want was to protect her and give her a place of reprieve from the world that seemed so awful at the time.

Couldn’t help but fuck it up, Veronica immediately thought, guilt ripping across her like incisions. Both arms folded across her chest, she kicked at a pebble on the street.

Jamie saw it; the imperceptible difference in her demeanor. One second she’d been smiling, laughing at her co-worker - the sunlight catching the highlights of her hair, sparkling against her eyes like he’d never seen before.

And the next...the darkness seeping in at the edges, like an ether-soaked rag, damping the life out of its victim. The spirit blew out of her like a candle, vanishing.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to get Veronica’s attention. “Did I say something--”

A hand on her arm sparked it, the gentle touch a reminder that everything was out of sorts when it came to Jamie Benn. Veronica’s gaze flew upwards, hard eyes meeting his.

“You never answered me,” she insisted, jaw a hard line before taking a step back, out of his reach. “What...what are you doing here?”

The words flitted over Jamie’s tongue - I love you, be with me, will you ever move on? - but the ones that’d been gnawing at his soul for months sprung to his lips, before he could stop them.

“You left,” he blurt out.

Notes