“You can try to carry on when all you want to do is cry. And maybe someday we’ll figure all this out, put an end to all our doubt…”


The start to the New Year wasn’t particularly pleasant, partially because Marie started most mornings with nauseating sickness and partially because she was taking eighteen units at her new school. It’d only been a week since classes started but already she could feel herself drowning in all the reading and work.

It had been an off day for the team and instead of spending it with Marco, as she usually did, Marie got to campus at seven in the morning, only to open up the front door of Marco’s condo at ten that night. It had been an exhausting day of back-to-back classes and short breaks. She threw her backpack on the kitchen table as she passed through and flopped down on the couch emphatically.

Marco walked to the doorway and leaned against the doorjamb with a dishtowel hung over his shoulder. He stared at Marie as she decompressed for a moment before flipping over onto her back. “Long day?”

“You don’t even know,” she sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I’ve got some pasta in the kitchen for you if you’re hungry. You want to eat it there?”

She nodded and watched as Marco disappeared back into the kitchen, only to come back with a bowl nearly filled to the top with the meal he’d prepared. “You’re the best boyfriend slash baby daddy ever,”

He smiled and leaned over to kiss the side of her head. “Now I know you’re delirious… Too exhausted to have sex tonight?”

Marie nodded and shoved another bite of pasta into her mouth.

“Too exhausted to receive oral sex tonight?” He smiled and ran his hand over his beard.

Marie blushed and shook her head. Hell, it’d probably make her feel better. “How was practice today,”

“If you think bag skates are a good thing, then good. Coach metaphorically jumped off a cliff; completely lost it. If you need a definition of crazy, Mike Yeo is it right now.”

“That bad?”

“Play tough… Play hard. Meanwhile I’m over here trying not to get fined and suspended again for heavy hits.” Marco shook his head and set it back against the couch, “I don’t want to talk about that here. This is a hockey-free zone as far as I’m concerned. I’d rather talk about how you’re doing with our unborn child,”

“You don’t want to know all the nauseous details,”

“I want to know every single one,” he smiled boyishly and looked up at her.

Marie smirked and set the bowl down in her lap, “I woke up this morning and nearly vomited on your lovely bedroom carpet. After miraculously holding it in, I spilled my guts into the toilet, and proceeded to rest my head on the porcelain I’d just upchucked on. I spent the next forty-five minutes in a limbo of getting ready and puking, got motion sickness on my drive to school, and left my classes a total of eleven times to hold my own hair back as I blew chunks in the girls’ bathroom.”

“What color was it?”

She looked down at Marco and slapped her hand down on his arm. He giggled and wiped his eyes as if he were tearing up. At least one of them could find the hilarity of it all. If she didn’t try to at least make light of the situation, she was sure she’d jump off the deep end. After taking one last bite of the pasta, Marie placed the bowl on the coffee table and curled over, setting her head down in Marco’s lap. He tilted his head to the side as he peered down at her, and brought his fingertips to her hair to brush it away from her face.

“Oh I forgot… Amidst the vomiting, my dad called me today. Gave me a whole other reason to vomit,” her eyes were closed, reveling in the way Marco played with her hair.

“I told you I didn’t want you talking to him. He’s dangerous, Marie. You know it would kill me if he hurt you or the baby,”

She turned her head towards his body, “I just didn’t even think to check the caller ID. Never in my wildest dreams did I think he’d call. And you know, he acted like nothing had happened. He tried to make conversation, like I was just going to forget what he’d done,”

“Marie,” he choked out, setting his hand on her stomach. When she opened up her eyes, his lips were pursed. “Has he ever beat you before,” he looked away as if he really didn’t want to know the truth.

Marie swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, “never like that. Most the time it was with the buckle end of a belt… that’s the scar on my back. It’s nothing Marco, really.”

“Why didn’t your mom do anything?”

“What was she gonna do? He beat her up too. Anyone we could’ve told would’ve thought we were lying, because Bill Thatcher wouldn’t do that.”

“If he ever calls or comes near you again, I swear I’ll kill him.”

“Oh stop that alpha male bravado,” she set her hand on top of his. “He’d stab you with a scalpel so fast, you wouldn’t know what hit you. You’re the only man in my life I truly care about, and if he did anything to hurt you, I’d be crushed. You have to think of this kid now, our kid. No more lashing out because your ego’s telling you to fight,”

“I don’t want him hurting you.”

“The only way he could hurt me now is if he did something to you or our kid. I’ve handled it for twenty years; I know I can take it.”

Marco moved his hand from her stomach and up to her cheek, cupping it gently as he ran his thumb across the soft skin. He bent over and pecked her lips quickly, just staring at her when he sat back up. “I love you so, so much,”

“I know,” she grinned and held onto his wrist gently.

He chuckled and dragged the pad of his thumb across her lower lip, “one more thing before we retreat to the bedroom?”

She squinted as he urged her to get off of him, and when she complied he scurried to one of the drawers beneath the bookshelves. Marie pursed her lips at the sound of papers shuffling and folded her hands in her lap just as Marco turned around with a white envelope in his hands.

“I wanted to give you something more than the diamond necklace for Christmas, but I didn’t want to do this in front of your mom,” he sat back down on the couch and handed Marie the envelope.

She looked down at it puzzled as it was from a bank, but she tore open the top without questioning it just yet. The paper inside was a mess of letters and numbers, and she shook her head again, confused. “What is this?”

He set his arm on the back of the couch around her shoulders, “a bank statement. I opened an account,”

“Why? I don’t understand. A joint account,” she searched the statement for any clues as to why she was staring at the details of an account that had more money in it than she’d personally ever seen.

“No it’s just yours,” he flashed a quick smile when she flicked her eyes up to meet his. “You said you didn’t want to go to your parents for money to open your own café. Now you’re close to graduating, and I figured you should have a business account open with some money that can collect interest until you’re ready to use it,”

“This is too much,” she protested trying to thrust the paper back into his hands. He pushed back and forced her to keep it. “Marco… I can’t take this. It’s too much,”

“Of course you can take it. I’d be insulted if you didn’t. Listen, you deserve a place of your own and I want you to have that… Not mine, not your parents’, not your sister’s, not anyone’s but your own.”

Marie looked down at the paper again and clutched her hand over her heart as she looked at the account total. Yes, it was more money than she’d ever seen. “Thank you; you’re too good for me,”

“I love you too,” he grinned and pecked her lips once more. “I’m gonna put the bowls in the dishwasher and then I’ll come to bed, okay?”

“I think I owe you oral sex now,” she whispered and cupped his neck with her hand. “A fifty thousand dollar blowjob or something,”

“You don’t owe me anything. I didn’t do it for the sex,” he stood up from the couch and picked up her bowl, carrying it off for the kitchen.

Marie looked down at the bank statement again and covered her mouth. It still didn’t feel completely right to be inheriting all this money from the man who would soon be her baby daddy. But his words were genuine and she could tell he really wanted her to have it.

A moment later his phone was ringing, and Marie looked up able to see him in the kitchen from her spot on the couch. By the Italian chatter coming from the other room, she knew his father was on the other end of the call. And judging by the little amounts of Italian she knew, they were just talking about menial things; how the day was, was it snowing, things of that sort.

“Bellissimo. Un po malato,” Beautiful. A little sick. He paused, clinking the dish against the sink before he placed it in the dishwasher. “No, nessun medico,” No, no doctor. Marco started to chuckle, and Marie wished she could hear what his dad was saying. “No perché lei è incinta,” No because she’s pregnant. He waited again, “Sì… Sì… Sì è mio,” Yes it’s mine. He chuckled again and kicked the dishwasher door up with his foot. “Okay ciao. Ti amo papà.” He hung up and walked back into the living room, looking shocked to still see Marie there.

“What’s incinta?” She asked in her sad excuse for an Italian accent.

“Pregnant,”

“I thought that was prego?” She smiled, furrowing her eyebrows.

Marco tilted his head back and laughed while simultaneously helping Marie up from the couch, “prego is you’re welcome.”

Marie pushed open his bedroom door and shuffled over to the dresser where she began pulling out one of Marco’s t-shirts. “So that’s how you told your dad I’m pregnant,”

“Yeah. He took it well. I’m only nervous to tell my mum,”

“That’s comforting,” she stepped out of her pants and pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it into the hamper. “I don’t want her to feel like we’re blindsiding her with it,”

He stared at her as she unclipped her bra and shrugged it off her shoulders. “I just want her to be happy about it and respond positively. I’ll tell her soon,” he flicked his eyes back up to hers as she slid his t-shirt on over her upper half.

“You promise,” she snickered and tiptoed to the bed, tucking herself tightly beneath the blankets.

“Pinky promise,” he held out his little finger, and when Marie hooked hers around his, he leaned in and kissed her lips slowly.

---

Marie looked up from the kitchen table as Marco came in the front door. They stared at each other as Marie hit herself in the head and squinted her eyes shut. He laughed at her and set his bag down on the floor before approaching her cautiously.

“You’re wearing one of my helmets…” he pointed out as she slammed her fist down against the helmet again.

“It’s not very good at keeping the hurt out,”

“That’s why we try not to get hit in the head,”

When the bathroom door opened up, Marco looked over at it and saw a smallish girl coming out of it. She looked to be about Marie’s age, and Marco glanced back at his girlfriend.

“This is Anna. She’s my partner for my marketing project. Anna, my boyfriend Marco,” Marie tugged the hockey helmet off her head and set it upside down on the table.

“Nice to meet you,” Anna smiled and extended her hand out to Marco.

He smiled pleasantly and shook it. “So why exactly are you wearing my helmet?”

“We had to make a product we really believed in, and I’m dating a hockey player…”

“And I love hockey…” Anna chimed in.

“And we realized how often hockey players were being sidelined with concussions,”

“So we fashioned an improved helmet designed specifically for hockey.”

Marco looked at both of them and shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as if he were encouraging them to continue.

“What’s your biggest complaint about the ‘concussion-proof’ helmets that have been fashioned so far?” Marie smiled giddily.

“They’re not concussion-proof,” he smiled and flicked his eyes back and forth between Marie and Anna.

“Design wise,”

Marco pulled a hand from his pocket and scratched his cheek, “they’re like football helmets… too heavy. Usually have thicker plastic and denser padding,”

“Which is why we bring to you the new and improved concussion-proof helmet,” Anna smiled and lifted another hockey helmet out of her lap. “It’s the same plastic shell, but instead of the standard padding, we’ve equipped it with ballistic combat pads… like the ones in military helmets.”

“They absorb more shock,” Marie chimed in.

Marco grinned and sat down across from the two girls. He reached forward and placed the helmet on his head, fastened it and shook his head around. “In terms of innovation, excellent. But in terms of execution, maybe not…”

“Why?” Marie yelped.

“My temples and the lower part of my head are exposed. The thickness of the pads protects my head from impact against the plastic, but it leaves sensitive parts exposed to hits. With the size of this padding, you’d have to fashion an entirely new helmet design, which means adding more plastic to cover up the sensitive areas.” He pulled the helmet off and twisted it around in his hands. “You’re looking at a design closer to that of the German Stahlhelm.”

“The German helmet from World War Two?” Anna asked, flipping open her laptop.

Marco nodded, “it fanned out at the bottom to protect the temples and neck. With what you’ve designed, that’s the only way to potentially make it work. Only with that shape, it takes away peripheral vision.”

“Makes sense…” Anna tilted her head to the side and then looked at Marie, “I’m gonna go back to campus and work out a model. I’ll show you it on Monday,”

Anna was out of the house in record time and Marie came back to the table looking mildly defeated. She plopped down in Marco’s lap and set her head down on his shoulder.

He turned and pressed his lips against her head gently, “it’s a great idea.”

“Don’t lie, it’s awful.”

“Stop that,” he smiled and patted her leg encouragingly. “C’mon… I’ll take you out to lunch,”

Notes

"Someday" by Rob Thomas.

Gah i'm so in love with these two, and i hope you are too. Love everyone's feedback! comment, rate, & subscribe <3