“Trouble, oh trouble can’t you see? You’re eating my heart away, and there’s nothing much left of me…”


Marie was behind the counter at Scandy’s only half paying attention as customers ordered their pastries, coffees, and waffles from her. The other half of her attention was on Marco. He was at a table in the corner, picking at his pregame waffles, enthralled by his one-sided conversation with Sofia.

With November now winding down, Sofia was close to being four months old. While there was a lot she still couldn’t do by herself, both Marco and Marie noted the ways in which she’d progressed from even just a month ago. She was close to saying words, and not in the sense that she knew what they actually meant. Her lips would move, trying to mimic whatever was being said to her, but no actual noise ever came out. With all these advances, Marco was anxious to introduce another new experience: solid food. He was always pushing the boundaries, wanting to give Sofia cereal and cheese puffs, but Marie always shut that down; for now at least. No doubt Sofia’s neck was by far stronger than it had been even a month ago, and she could lift her head when she was on her stomach, but it still wasn’t strong enough to keep her from choking, should something happen while she ate cereal.

The customers were dealt with, and when the last one had paid, Marie walked out from behind the counter and sauntered on over to Marco. He smiled as she sat down, but for the moment there was no conversation. Over the past few days, Francesco had taken a turn for the worse. He was now spending out his final days in a hospital room, and by the frequent updates, it could be any day now. They didn’t need to talk about it for it to be the forefront of their minds. Even though he had gone to Montreal earlier in the month to say goodbye, it was still just as hard.

“So two days?” Marie leaned her head on her fist, smiling at Sofia.

Marco nodded and shoveled more of the waffle into his mouth. “The schedule’s pretty crazy from here on out… Longest home stand is three games, but most of them are two. I think we’re looking at fifty days or so on the road for the rest of the season,”

“Tough sledding.” When Marco didn’t respond, Marie took a breath in, “last year we went to my mom’s for Christmas. Did you want to go to Montreal this year?”

He shook his head, “I have a game the next day, and my mom and sister are going to Italy to be with Giulio. You should invite your mom and sister to come out though.”

“Are you sure you want to invite the other two crazy Thatcher women?”

“I’m sure, as long as your dad doesn’t tag along. Plus I’m sure they want to see Sof.” At the familiar sound of her name, Sofia turned her head and looked up at Marco. He smiled and bounced her in his arm, “yes, that’s you. You’re so smart, I love you.”

In all honesty, Marie was hesitant to actually invite her mom and sister to Minnesota for the holidays. With both of them off the east coast, it would surely spark some curiosity in ‘Wild Bill’. He’d undoubtedly make the trip to St. Paul in no time. But Marco seemed adamant about having Carol and Lizzie out for the holidays. Best-case scenario, it would give them more time to get to know each other. As Marie saw it, Marco was probably going to be the person she married. The only thing left to do was convince him of that. So before then, she needed to make sure that her mom and sister liked him. It’d be a rough life if her family didn’t like her husband.

When they left later that afternoon, the café was buzzing with pregame patrons. Having it just down the street from the arena proved to have tremendous financial gains. And with how well things were going early on, Marie was able to hire on extra staff, giving her the time to focus on the business end of it, while the rest of the team could handle the serving and customer service side. Marie hated using the word “employee”. It was uncomfortable to call out these people when she was just like them. The result was calling the staff a team, where they all helped each other if needed. With that, Marie found it easier to talk to them on a more personal level.

At home, Marco flopped onto the couch for a nap, with Sofia on his chest. They slept soundly for little over an hour, which gave Marie time to finish up all the number business for the shop. By the time Marco needed to shower up and get ready for the game, Marie was able to take Sofia from him.

Like always though, she threw a fit when it was time for him to leave for the rink. That was probably Sofia’s one fault. Most the time, she was the perfect baby. But every time he left, she broke out in a hysterical fit of tears. She was a daddy’s girl to the max.

“Oh Sof,” he giggled, leaning in to kiss her cheeks. “I’m going to be home tonight,” even after his reassurance, she was inconsolable. “Well… have fun with this,”

Marie rolled her eyes, “yeah, thanks.” She smiled and pecked Marco’s lips, “love you, play hard.”

“Love you too, baby. I’ll be back tonight,”

He was out and Marie was left with a fussy Sofia. Eventually she got over it and simmered down, but that only happened because Marie was stuffing her face with mashed bananas and milk. No longer hungry, and presumably forgotten that Marco was even gone, she spent some time on her tummy, wiggling about until the game started.

A routine had sprouted on game nights. They’d sit in Marco’s leather armchair, wrapped up in a blanket, and watch the Wild game. The noise of it all was something Sof had grown used to. If anything, it helped soothe her to sleep, and by the time the game ended, she’d be passed out.

---

Marie always found it strange how some days could pass in a blink of an eye, and others could feel like years. And usually it was the good days that went too quickly. As of late, thing started to blend together. One day merged with another, becoming one fluid and seamless sequence. Sleep was either disturbed by crying or phone calls, and consciousness with riddled with hockey games and travel.

At a certain point, Marco seemed like a zombie, floating through this life without real motive. Even more shocking, this all happened within the few days before December started. Almost immediately, he fell into that pattern.

It was a day they would’ve never forgotten under normal circumstances, but now it held even more weight. December 2nd. They woke up, starting the day wanting to celebrate. The day marked four months that their daughter had been alive. Maybe four months wasn’t much by normal standards, but Marie felt it was an extreme accomplishment. Having heart surgery days after birth had to count for something. In her eyes, Sofia was a trooper. And she deserved to be celebrated.

The moment her eyes opened, Marco was by her side, whisking her out of her crib, and humming to her in his sweet voice. By the time he got her into the kitchen, he was singing to her in Italian, spinning around like there was music only they could hear. Marie was cooking up some eggs and bacon and simultaneously heating some milk up for Sofia. It seemed as though they were going to have the perfect day together.

But then the phone call came, and the perfect day ended. Marco sat at the table, paralyzed. Had breathing been something he had to think about, he probably would’ve forgotten to do it. Marie knew what that meant, and she walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck to offer her physical support. He reached up and held onto her forearm, blinking away emotion and taking a ragged breath in. No amount of closure and no amount of time to say goodbye could’ve ever prepared him for the feelings to come. He could’ve spent the past month with his father, and this would still hurt all the same.

Marco looked up at her. Their eye contact was intense, and without words, Marie understood. Francesco was gone, and Marco would need some time. She could give him that much.

He handed Sofia to Marie, retreated to the bedroom to get changed, and was out the front door in record time. The only thing that scared her was the roar of the engine as he sped off down the street. She feared that in his fragile state, he could do some serious damage to himself if he got into a wreck.

This time when he left, Sofia didn’t even cry. It was like she knew now wasn’t the right time. The first thing Marie did was call her mom. She needed some guidance on this because now it was a whole new beast. Finding out his father had cancer drove Marco crazy. Now with him gone, Marie wasn’t entirely sure what she’d be dealing with. She feared he would become overwhelmed with grief, but Carol determined he’d keep a level head.

Whatever the case, Sofia and Marie spent the rest of the day alone. She tried to keep busy and entertain Sof, but Marie’s mind kept wandering back to Marco and what he was doing.

It wasn’t until much later that night, that she heard the hum of his car come up the street. Sofia had been put to bed for a couple hours, and Marie had passed the time by sitting on the couch, looking at her hands in her lap. She couldn’t bring herself to do much of anything else.

Marco finally pushed through the door, and the first thing Marie noticed was that his right wrist was wrapped in plastic. She didn’t fear anything about that though. It was likely a new tattoo, and she preferred him having new ink over a new set of bloody wounds.

“You do what you needed to do?” She whispered, leaning her head on the back of the couch.

Marco sat down beside her and began unwrapping his wrist. Free of plastic, the tattoo was simple: his father’s initials and the date. “I knew it was coming. I knew his days were numbered, and still…”

He choked up and Marie reached for his hand, “you don’t have to pretend this doesn’t bother you. Not for me. Tomorrow you’ll get to the rink, and this news will have struck, and you’ll put on a brave face because that’s what you do. And you’ll suppress emotion because that’s what society has told you to do. But you don’t have to do that for me. I got you, I’m here. Put your burden on me and I’ll carry it.”

“I watched Zach and Ryan go through this last season. I watched them lose themselves, and I never in a million years imagined I’d be in the same position a year later. They’re not supposed to die like this; so early. I want to go back to the day I was drafted… and the look on my dad’s face when he heard my name called, and how he wore my jersey for weeks, brimming with pride. I want to go back to my first game with the Wild, and see the smile on my dad’s face when he saw his son in the NHL. I never get those moments back. And for as long as I live, I never get to make more of them.”

Marie really didn’t know what to say to him. At first she thought she could take part in a conversation about this, and actually say something meaningful. But now, after he had just spilled his guts, she felt underprepared and inadequate of saying anything at all.

Marco seemed to catch onto that pretty quickly and he set his hand down on her knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve made this a thousand times easier for me. Seriously, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by my side through this.”

“It’s the least I could do considering you’ve stuck by me through everything. But that’s kind of our thing, isn’t it? Sticking around when things get rough,”

He glanced over at her, smiling, “yeah I guess that is our thing.” Marco leaned in and cupped her face in his massive hand. They kissed slowly, taking a moment to breathe each other in.

“We’re gonna get through this. You’re gonna get through this. I got you,”

Notes

"Trouble" by Cat Stevens.

I'm traveling to Nashville, so this'll be the last update for a week or so! Not too long of a break, but longer than most updates.