“Where the hell are you with your head?” Brad Marchand asked his line mate Patrice when he came to a stop beside him. They’d been shooting pucks at Tuukka and Dobby for the last fifteen minutes and none of Patrice’s shots had sailed through or had even had the possibility. His shot was too weak and that wasn’t like him at all.
Patrice sighed and adjusted his helmet before he said: “I saw someone yesterday that I haven’t seen in six years and it was completely unexpected.”
“A woman?” Brad was watching the others.
“Yes. She works at Story’s kindergarten.” Brad’s eyes widened in surprise. “So Dennis asked me if I wanted to pick her up again today, so I’m doing just that.”
“Sounds good, but for now concentrate on shooting the pucks, or the coach will chew you out and you won’t even make it to the kindergarten.” Bradley grinned at him before he skated off. Patrice had to smile at that remark, because Brad was right. He didn’t want a lecture from Claude Julien and stay here longer than necessary today.
He wasn’t only preoccupied with seeing Emily later, he was also nervous. He hadn’t felt like this in a while, and he wasn’t accustomed to this. Feeling nervous before going on the ice for a crucial game was different.
He wasn’t entirely sure what to say to her once he was there, but he thought that he’d figure it out then. It depended on how she would react. It was probably best to ask someone to get her out, so they weren’t around all the children. That way he wouldn’t feel so awkward.
After practice, he took a quick shower, checked that he looked decent and headed off. Dennis knew that he’d hear everything when Patrice brought Story back to him, and now Brad knew about this as well. Dennis knew a lot more, though.
Upon arriving at the kindergarten he took a deep breath. This was just a casual encounter, so he had to be calm and collected. Yesterday he’d been too shocked to think about what he was doing. Today was different. Today he really wanted to persuade her to go out with him, catch up and tell him what had brought her to Boston. She’d known that he was in Boston.
As soon as Patrice walked through the door, he saw the same woman he’d asked for directions yesterday. She smiled when she looked his way and said: “You know the way now, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I have a favor to ask.” He managed a smile and stepped closer. “Could you maybe tell Emily Moore that someone’s here to talk to her? I’d really like to do that without the children around. We’re old friends.”
“Just wait here a second,” the woman said and patted his shoulder, before she moved towards the room. It was a lot quieter than it had been the day before.
About a minute later Emily appeared. When she saw him, she stopped for a second. Her eyes widened and she took deep breath before she started walking again and only stopped when she was in front of him.
“What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands falling loosely around her face. She wore sneakers, dark blue jeans and a black t-shirt, that was convenient for work, yet she still looked as good as he’d remembered. She could win everybody over with her smile and the dimple that appeared in her left cheek, but somehow he doubted that he’d see that kind of smile so soon. She was obviously not happy with him being here.
“I’m picking Story up and I wanted to talk to you again.” He crossed his arms as well, imitating her pose. “We didn’t really get the chance yesterday. Why don’t you want to go out for a coffee with me?”
“What?” She furrowed her brow at him and sighed. “Because it’s not a good idea. Look, you’re busy with hockey, and I’m busy with work as well. I don’t have time.”
“O come on, a coffee won’t take up that much time,” he smiled at her, hoping to get a smile in return, but that didn’t happen. “I’d really like to know what you’ve been up to and what made you come to Boston. And more importantly why you didn’t contact me.”
“I moved to Boston, because my Mom got cancer and I had to take care of her. When she died, I stayed here. I had made friends and didn’t really have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t want to.” She said all this with a straight face, trying to sound detached from the situation, from him and everything else, but he knew that something wasn’t quite right.
“I’m really sorry to hear that. That must have been hard for you.”
“I try not to think about it too much.” She lifted her head, and he thought he caught the glimpse of a smile, when he heard a loud “Mommy” from behind Emily.
A boy with dark brown, slightly too long hair and deep brown eyes came running towards them. It must have been the same boy he’d seen the day before. A she came closer, Patrice’s eyes widened. He looked eerily familiar.
“What is it, Lucas,” Emily said and crouched down. She ran a hand over his hair, and there it was. The smile he’d been wanting to see all the time, but right now something else was on his mind.
“Jack wantsta go ice skating Sunday. Can we go?” He looked up at Patrice for a moment, and that was when his suspicion grew. Lucas looked back at his mother. “Pleeeaaaase?”
“Only if Jack’s parents agree.”
“Okay!” He rose and pecked his mother on her cheek, before he ran back to the room to tell his friend about the good news.
“How old is your son?” Patrice stood very still, not entirely sure how to feel or what to do. It could just be a coincidence.
“Five years.” Emily didn’t look him in the eye. She bit down on her bottom lip.
“And you’re raising him alone.”
“Yes.”
“He’s my son, isn’t he?” He tried not to let any emotion show in his voice, but it was hard. When she nodded, he burst out: “Jesus.”
“I’m really sorry, Patrice.” Emily looked him in the eyes and swallowed hard. She’d hoped he’d never find out, or that he’d at least hear it from her. She had never envisioned it to happen like this. “It’s really hard to explain this.”
“No it’s not. The fact is that you should have told me when you realized that you were pregnant. Or at least after he was born, but I guess you never intended to tell me. That’s why you broke off contact and ignored me.” He shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. The kid looked exactly like he had done as a kid, there was no question about it.
“There’s more to this.” She was getting desperate, but this was neither the right time, nor the right place to talk about this. “Please, give me a chance to explain.”
Patrice stared at her long and hard. If it was only about him and her, he would have to think about this for some time. But there was someone else to consider here. His son. He was a father and he wanted to get to know his child, so he had to give the mother a chance to explain herself. He wanted a relationship with the kid.
“Fine,” he eventually said. “When is it convenient for you?”
“Tomorrow’s Friday, so Lucas will stay over at Jack‘s for the night, so that I get an evening to myself.”
“I have a game tomorrow night.”
“Oh… Well, I have the weekend off, so whenever it’s good for you.”
“I could come by after the game, if you don‘t have to get up early.” He’d probably be there around eleven, but he figured that it wouldn’t take long. The sooner he got this over with, the better.
“Okay, wait a second.” She vanished for a second and returned with a piece of paper that she handed to him. There was an address and a phone number, which he assumed were hers.
“Thank you. I‘ll see you tomorrow then.” Without another word he walked past her to get to the room and get Story. He had to get away from here and comprehend what he’d just found out. He was the father of a five year old boy.