“Who says I can’t be free, from all the things that I used to be. Rewrite my history, who says I can’t be free…”


This year the team didn’t have the luxury of being in town for Halloween. So that meant Marco wouldn’t get to see Marie all dolled up in a revealing outfit. Not tonight at least. But because there was no real party going on, she didn’t really have an outfit planned anyways.

Instead, Alisha planned on having the wives and girlfriends swing by to hang out. They’d go trick or treating with some of the kids who were actually old enough to partake in that, and come evening time, everyone would hunker down to watch the game. That was fine with Marie, to be honest. Now being a mom, it almost didn’t feel right to be flaunting her body. Plus she had gotten a really cute bumblebee costume for Sofia and wanted everyone to see her in it.

Sofia had helped in making Marie more popular around the women. With all of the boys doting on the new infant, the women who were once skeptical of Marie, now flocked to her. It seemed things had come full circle.

She finally made it to the Parise’s house around five that evening. Alisha and some of the other moms were herding their kid’s out front to start their trick or treating. But upon seeing Sofia in a little black and yellow outfit, they call came to coo at her. And Sofia, per usual, stared at them with wide eyes, as though they were all crazy.

Once that group left, Marie trudged her way into the house. The relief she felt when she saw Erin sitting mostly outside the group of girls, was extreme. Not that she wanted Erin to be an outcast, but it was nice to know they had each other.

“No, stop! She’s adorable,” Erin gasped, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. It was the first time she was getting to meet Sofia, who was now nearly three months old. “Hi Sofia,”

Sofia gave a gummy smile and waved her arms above her head when she heard her name. That had probably been the biggest change over the past month; she was now showing recognition to not only her name, but seeing Marie and Marco.

“Say, salve Erin! Come va?” Marie did her best her pronounce the basic Italian phrase. It even took Erin by surprise. “Marco desperately wants her first language to be Italian. He’s gone so far to only speak to her in Italian, just like his parents did for him. The only problem is my Italian is very limited. I’m afraid her speaking skill will be delayed because she’s hearing so many different things,” Marie giggled and looked down at Sof as she began to coo at herself.

“She’s going to be the smartest baby in town,” Erin smiled and reached forward to run the back of her finger against Sofia’s cheek softly. “How’s the café going?”

“Pretty good. I’m very pleased with it. I never imagined it’d be going this well so early on.” The first month since opening had proved to be profitable for Scandy’s. So much so that with a couple more months like that, and the cost it took to refurbish the space would be completely paid for. “How’s it going with Charles?”

Erin smiled but diverted her eyes and stared down at her lap. It was a look Marie knew all too well, mostly because she’d been guilty of giving the same look. “I don’t know,” she sighed and laced her fingers together. “One day he’s affectionate and totally into it, and the next, it’s just… nothing. I swear he’s relieved when the team leaves on road trips.”

“I’m sure that’s not it. Maybe he’s just getting more stressed out. I know Marco was like that for awhile last year,”

She shrugged, “it feels like it’s less about hockey and more about me. His calls are pretty sporadic too.” Erin looked up at Marie, who had fallen pretty silent. “I know it puts you in a sort of weird position, so you don’t have to say anything. Anyway… how are you and Marco?”

“Erin…”

“It’s okay. I just needed to get it out there; tell one person. And now I can figure out how to make it better.” She paused as if she were trying to convince herself of that. “So how are you and Marco?”

Marie glanced down at the sapphire ring that sat perched on her hand. Since she’d received it at the beginning of the season, it hadn’t left her finger. “Just trying to work through everything with his dad. It’s been pretty hard because they’re so close.”

“Is his dad going to be okay?”

“I’m not sure. It’s pretty bad,”

They could talk about it for as long as they wanted, but it wouldn’t change the facts. Francesco was having his surgery today to remove some of the tumors. It wouldn’t completely kill the cancer, but it could give him a better chance. That’s all they could hope for at this point. Anything that could potentially give Francesco a fighting chance was helpful.

He meant so much and had taught Marco so much over the past twenty-five years, and Marie hoped Marco would get more time with his father. He deserved it.

That night proved to be pretty quiet for Marco. No penalties, no goals, and thankfully no hits or shots taken to the face. Marie was thankful for that. Every game she watched, she feared that it would be the night Marco got himself a broken jaw. Tonight however, he was unscathed and would soon be back in Minnesota.

Pretty much once the game ended, Marie was ready to go home. Sofia had been sleeping for over an hour now, and Marie just really wanted to get her in her crib. After saying goodbye to all the girls, and thanking Alisha for having her over, she was off, getting back to their two-bedroom condo. She couldn’t wait to have Marco back. It hadn’t been a particularly long road trip, but she desperately missed him. Having him back in Minnesota would be a huge relief.

But what she couldn’t have guessed was that Marco would be in a pretty sour mood by the time he got home. He finally walked through the front door at around two in the morning, but instead of being worn out and exhausted, Marie got the shock of her life. She had waited up for him, sitting in his leather lounge chair with a book when he got in. He threw his duffle bag against the wall and kicked off his shoes, sending them flying across the room.

Marie closed the book and stood up, collecting his thrown belongings as he moved into the kitchen to continue his tirade. Thankfully Sofia was a pretty deep sleeper, because if she hadn’t been, the noise of Marco slamming the refrigerator and cabinet doors would’ve had her up and screaming.

“Marco, tell me what’s wrong,” Marie pleaded. She figured it had something to do with his dad because the game hadn’t ended terribly. Sure the team didn’t win, but pushing it to overtime got them at least a point.

He slammed another cabinet door shut, and Marie reached for his arm. She just wanted him to calm down enough to tell her what was bothering him. But the moment she laid her hand on his bicep, he spun around with his hand in the air, cocked back and ready to swing. Marie took a step back, cowering as she waited for Marco’s next move. She didn’t believe he’d actually hit her, but then again with how angry and frustrated he was, she didn’t quite know what he’d do.

Eventually Marco took a deep breath in, staring at Marie and lowered his hand to her neck, cupping it gently. His touch was soft, and all Marie could do was stare as he slowly sunk onto one of the barstools. His eyes looked tired and defeated, and within an instant, he pulled her into him, wrapped his arms around her tightly, and buried his face into the base of her neck.

She set her hand on the back of his neck, stroking the ends of his hair. He began taking in slow, ragged breaths in an attempt to keep from crying, but in all reality, Marie doubted it was working. Whatever was bugging him now, was serious. And if he needed to let out a few tears for the most influential man in his life, she’d never hold it against him.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?” She asked quietly, as to not cause him any more distress.

Marco lifted his head and ran his hands over his eyes to swipe away tears. “They couldn’t get everything they wanted to in surgery… He’s pretty much done,”

“You have to be more positive than that…”

“No you don’t understand,” he wiped his eyes again. “I’m going to ask the team to let me leave to say goodbye,” when he regained the strength, he stood up. “he won’t make it to Christmas,”

Marie felt her heart sink into her stomach. Marco was now living in the reality where his father only had a couple months left. There wasn’t any more time to pretend that his dad would just always be around. She gently scratched at his scalp, trying to think of something so say, but nothing seemed good enough. Nothing she could say would change the reality.

“God, I am soft,”

“Stop that.” She gripped at the ends of his hair and tugged back until his head followed suit and he looked up at her. “Showing emotion for your father doesn’t make you soft. Crying doesn’t make you soft. Marco Scandella, you can cry if you want to. Don’t let your career tell you, you can’t.” Marie leaned in and kissed his lips softly, “I love you and whatever you need, I’m here for you. Please just don’t shut me out again.”

“I know baby, I just wanna go to sleep. No shutting you out though, I promise.”

Marie stared down at him and took his hand, leading him back to the bedroom. They parted for just a moment so Marco could head into the nursery and kiss Sofia goodnight. She continued into the bedroom and pulled back the duvet, climbing into bed. In a moment, Marco was in the room, getting changed from his suit into a pair of flannel pajama pants. Once he was in bed, Marie cuddled into his side and wrapped her arm around him. Usually he was the one to hold her close, but now Marie took on that role.

“I want you in Montreal with me… When I say goodbye to him,”

“You sure?”

He nodded and looked down at her, brushing his hand through her hair, “I think I’ll probably fall apart if you’re not there. Besides, it’ll give him the chance to say goodbye to… Sof too.” He choked up midway through his sentence. But after forcing it out, he tucked his head down against Marie’s chest and sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

She could tell he was trying to hide more tears, and so she felt it best to pretend like she didn’t know he was crying in the first place. In time, he’d learn to grow comfortable enough to cry in front of her. In no way did she believe that made him less of a man. So until Marco was ready for that, she’d go on pretending like she noticed nothing. It was the noble thing to do.

Soon enough Marco’s breathing evened out. Marie backed up just a bit and looked down at his face. The room was pretty dark, but she was still able to see that his eyes were pretty puffy. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed her lips to his forehead. As he must’ve been somewhere between sleep and consciousness, he nestled himself closer to her. And in this way, Marie thought he seemed more like a child, searching for comfort.

Notes

"Who Says" by John Mayer.

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