The Things No One Else Sees

How dare she looked confused when he asked her about the asshole who picked her up as his party. The asshole she LET pick her up at his party.

“Your boyfriend,” he said again, enunciating the words.

After he’d left the party, he'd gone home and flipped the table by his door over in a fit of frustration. The crystal vase that some decorator had sat on it went flying across the floor, shattering into chunky shards of glass. He’d sidestepped the mess and sat on the couch with her present on his lap, running his fingers along the notecard. Sincerely and weirdly yours in this strange friendship. That was how she’d signed the card. And he’d thought it was perfect. Perfect just like her.

“I am... in... love,” he had whispered, trying the words on for size. “With a woman who doesn’t love me,” he’d added as an afterthought.

Joff pulled himself back into the present and glanced at Lucy as she stood in front of him, looking so maddeningly like herself and so perfect that he could barely stand it. Black hair in loose curls brushed her shoulders and framed her face. Bangs swept to one side, artfully falling to cover the edge of her black-framed glasses. Her snug, cream-colored, long-sleeve shirt that accentuated her breasts with its V-neck. Her boot-cut jeans and sensible shoes for standing for a few hours at a concert. He ached for her.

“What boyfriend are you talking about?” Her voice had an edge to it. He knew it well. She’d wielded that on him a few times before. But now he had the high ground. She was the one who’d fallen off the wagon.

“Oh, there’s more than one?” Joff asked.

Her eyes narrowed. “There’s zero,” she replied in a frosty tone.

Yeah, right, he thought. She was going to pay for what she’d made him feel. “So, how’s your one-night-stand, then?”

Her back stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lupul. But I don’t appreciate you making accusations.”

“Rocker guy at my birthday party. You two looked real cozy when you left together.” He watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction.

Lucy’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? You think I went home with him?”

She didn’t look guilty, and that made him uncomfortable. Joff opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed and the crowd cheered for the band as they stepped on stage. Fuck. He needed to finish this conversation.

Turning away, she faced the stage and took two steps to the side to put Kessel and Alice between them. Joff took a drink of his beer and watched her. Would it change things if she hadn’t gone home with that guy? Probably. He curled his fingers into his hand because the urge to reach out, grab her arm, and pull her out onto the sidewalk so they could talk was overwhelming.

Instead, he tried to focus on the music and the band. Ray LaMontagne’s voice was husky and soulful, cutting through the music. He played several upbeat songs from his newest album, then slipped into a couple older songs before ramping things back up toward the middle of the set. As he transitioned into the final stretch of songs, Lupul looked over to see Lucy’s head nodding to the music, her eyes closed and her body leaning toward the stage. His heart beat harder because everything she did made him love her even more.

And then Joff felt like the wind got knocked out of him because the current song faded out and the lights switched. Everything went black except for a blue light focused on Ray LaMontagne, who was playing the beginning chords of a song Joff had heard not long ago.

In fact, he’d listened to the song the night of his birthday party. After he’d sat on his couch and felt sorry for himself, he’d put his music library on shuffle. Fate had thought it would be funny to rip his heart out even further with Burn from Ray LaMontagne’s first album. It was raw and heartfelt and terrible, a tale of a man who was yearning and hurting and angry over a woman leaving him.

He looked over at Lucy, watching her profile. She looked beautiful, despite all the shit he felt she’d put him through in the past few weeks. Life had felt like a mess of saudade and duende, both terms she’d taught him, since they’d become close. But at the same time life had also been a mess of laughs and good conversation and delicious sexual tension that he, until just recently, had fully expected to resolve itself in her bed. And in her shower. And on the floor of her living room when he came back from an away game and couldn’t wait the ten seconds it would take to get her into the bedroom.

Life had been a mess of emotions since her. Life had been worthwhile since her, even if it sometimes felt like a roller coaster.

The band wrapped up their set and left the stage while the crowd applauded and eventually chanted for more. Kessel was distracted and looked to be actually enjoying himself. Joff took two strides over to Lucy and put a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, surprise in her eyes.

He leaned in and said,” Can we talk?” in her ear.

Lucy gave him a sad lift of the corners of her mouth. It didn’t qualify as a smile, really.

He mouthed the word please to her, and she just shrugged in response. Good enough, he thought, taking her hand in his and pulling her out the front door and onto the sidewalk. It was cold outside, but it felt good after the press of so many bodies inside.

Once they were alone, she pulled her hand out of his grasp. Joff didn’t fight her because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing anyway. “I thought you were jerking me around. I thought you went home with that guy.”

Hurt flashed across her face. He regretted every word that had just come out of his mouth. “I can’t believe you actually thought that little of me.” Her voice was soft. Where she’d always been outspoken and tough when they’d disagreed before, now she just sounded sad and tired.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, shoving his hands in his pockets because he didn’t know what to do with them when he was around her.

“You didn’t look too broken up about it that night with that girl on your lap.” Her voice was breaking his heart. She sounded beaten.

“Lucy, I...”

“No,” she said, interrupting him. “It’s fine. I understand. Maybe we should just not do this anymore, Lupul. I can’t hang.”

“But I didn’t....”

“I know. You didn’t sleep with her. Jacob told me.” She scuffed her boot along the concrete before looking back up at him. “But I don’t think I can be friends with you. Not anymore. I can’t watch that and be okay with it. And it’s not fair for me to tell you that you can’t talk to girls.”

This felt worse than the night of his party. That was jealousy and anger and indignation. This was raw hurt and the real end of something he needed in his life. “I need to tell you something,” he whispered, stepping closer.

Lucy took a step back and held up her hand. “Don’t. Can you tell Gemma and Alice that I went home?”

“Lucy,” he pleaded, reaching for her hand. “Why can’t we just...”

“Because I can’t handle it, Joffrey.”

He stepped back. Her use of his first name felt like a sucker punch.

Her eyes were rimmed with tears. “Hey,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I’ll send you some tomatoes from my garden next summer. Maybe Jacob will drop them off at your place.”

“You have a garden?” What was she talking about?

“Not yet. But I will one day. Stay out of trouble, yeah?” She turned her back on him and he panicked. Real, true panic that this was it and he’d never have her, might not even get to see her again.

“Lucy, please.”

She kept walking, and he felt truly gutted and crushed for the first time in his life.

“Hey! Loops! Why’d you leave? The encore was great!” Kessel was holding the door open and looking at him with a dumb smile on his face. When Joff looked up to meet his teammate’s gaze, Kessel’s eyes widened. “Are you okay, man?”

“No.”

“Bad news?”

“The worst.”

“Nobody died, right?” Kessel asked, stepping outside, suddenly serious.

“I might. This sucks.”

*************************************

They were home for Halloween. Bozak was throwing a party, but Joff didn’t feel like going. He hadn’t felt like much these days. Everything was just going through the motions--practice, morning skate, games, working out, road trips, hotels. Right after Lucy walked off, they’d went on a four day road trip out west and he’d considered going into the lobby of the hotel in Colorado and picking up a girl just to get his mind off her. Instead he’d stayed in and watched a shitty movie with Phaneuf, who seemed surprised that Joff wasn’t out enjoying the nightlife.

There were kids crawling the streets with costumes on, even in his neighborhood. He toyed with the idea of giving out candy, but he just felt tired and sad and off his game. The thing with Lucy had thrown him. And he missed her so much it was almost unbearable.

Jacob wouldn’t talk about it. He’d tried to ask his friend how she was doing, but Jacob had just shaken his head and said, “Either you two get your shit together, kiss, and make up, or just cut it off. This back and forth is fucking stupid.”

He was right; it was fucking stupid. Joff flipped the channels until he found a game--Pittsburgh was playing Tampa Bay. After ten minutes, one penalty to Malkin, and one short-handed goal, he pulled out his phone and opened his messages.

There was an old one from Biz that he’d received yesterday. Two earlier in the day from Kessel and Jacob. Another one an hour ago from Bozak, telling him that he was a punk for not coming to the party. And then there were her messages that he hadn’t been able to delete just yet, including the pictures she’d sent him.

JOFF: I miss you.

He hit send before he could rethink the stupidity of it. Jacob said to fix it or cut it off. She’d cut it off because deep down he knew they both weren’t positive it could be fixed. Lucy had her ideas about him, and he hadn’t been able to change those. And, apparently, he couldn’t handle her talking to other guys either.

That’s what happened when you danced around dating, but never actually agreed to date. The first period ended, one to nothing. He stretched out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table and watched the intermission report and the beginning of the second period. No response. It wasn’t surprising.

Joff got up to take a piss and when he came back, he looked at his phone out of habit. It was face-up on the low coffee table and the green light was blinking. He had a message. Probably a junk e-mail or someone at Bozak’s party telling him he was missing out on a good time. He controlled his desire to pick up the phone and check the message for a full three minutes before he caved in.

LUCY: I miss you too.

He closed his eyes as the feeling rushed through his body. It was like he was a drug addict and she’d given him a fix. This was unhealthy.

JOFF: I thought you were going to ignore me for the rest of your life.

LUCY: Tried. It’s hard.

JOFF: Can I come over? I have some things I need to tell you.

LUCY: No, bad idea.

He felt that flash of jealousy. Was there another guy? It had been three weeks since the night of the concert. Enough time for her to meet someone.

LUCY: Currently gorging on a bowl of Halloween candy because there’s no kids in my neighborhood. Not a pretty sight.

Oh, so no guy. Good. He needed to get this under control and just tell her that he loved her and wanted to be with her, wanted to spend his free time listening to music with her and eating lunch in her little kitchen and helping her grow tomatoes or whatever the hell she was doing. And undressing her. That too.

JOFF: I have something to say that isn’t appropriate for texting. It’s an in-person kind of statement.

LUCY: You want to tell me I should be ashamed that I listen to Chromeo, don’t you?

He laughed softly, rubbing his phone screen, touching her name with the pad of his thumb.

JOFF: Naw, they're weirdly good.

LUCY: Remember when we used to hate each other?

Yeah, he did, actually. It wasn’t even that long ago. He had seen her several times and had never wanted to talk to her because he’d thought she was a bitch. Life was strange.

JOFF: I do, judgmental bitch.

LUCY: That’s so weird. To remember that. Sometimes I wish I could hate you again.

JOFF: I know exactly what you mean.

He’d had that thought many times over in the past few weeks. If he could just change his feelings then things could return to normal, and he could revert back to having a good time and enjoying his youth. Except, he’d turned thirty this year. It was time to grow up.

JOFF: What’s that song where the guy says something like thirty is not the new twenty?

LUCY: Never Never Land. Lyfe Jennings. I didn’t think R&B was your thing.

JOFF: Don’t pigeonhole me. I like everything.

LUCY: Except country.

JOFF: Right. And techno.

LUCY: That’s a good song. I think it was in response to Jay-Z saying that thirty is the new twenty.

JOFF: What does Jennings say again?

LUCY: I don’t care what they told you. Thirty is not the new twenty. It’s the same old thirty.

He smiled. That was it. Of course she’d know exactly what he was talking about. When did he meet someone who could do that with him? Never. Over the years he’d met a lot of great people whom he liked, some of who he was still friends with, but none of them got him like her.

JOFF: Yeah, that’s it. I turned thirty this year.

LUCY: So thirty isn’t the new twenty?

JOFF: Nope. Same old thirty. But that’s okay. I’m ready.

She didn’t respond right away. He hoped she understood what he was trying to tell her without actually saying it. Because he knew that neither one of them could handle this head on right now. A few minutes ago he’d wanted to drive over to her place and tell her he was in love with her and then maybe throw her on the bed and show her he was telling the truth. But that wouldn’t work. It was so delicate right now.

LUCY: You know what I’ve been listening to lately?

JOFF: What?

It took forever for her to respond. Engelland and Malone were fighting. Malone had hit Crosby behind the net, throwing an elbow a bit too high. The ref didn’t catch it, but the guys on the ice did. The ref and a lineman broke them up and sent them off. Play resumed while he clutched his phone in his hand.

LUCY: Angels by The XX.

Leaning forward, he pulled the laptop off the coffee table and downloaded the album. She’d given him tickets for the band’s concert next month, but things had been so hectic and his friendship with her had been so fucked since then that he hadn’t bothered to give them a listen. Was she talking to him through this song like he’d been talking to her by mentioning the Lyfe Jennings song?

JOFF: Downloading. Never heard it before.

He started the song before she texted him back. It was airy and quiet, minimalist. Just a spacey guitar and a soft female voice. He sat there on his couch and got lost because the vocalist was weaving the lyrics like gentle poetry, confessing her love. The short little song was almost over before he looked down at his phone. A message.

LUCY: It’s beautiful. Poetic. Saudade. Light reflects from your shadow, it is more than I thought could exist.

That was the first line of the song. His chest hurt.

JOFF: Can I come over, Lucy?

LUCY: Just let it sit there for a minute, Lupul. I can’t do everything in one night.

He pulled in a deep breath and blew it out his parted lips. He understood what she was saying. And she was right. They needed to let what was said between the lines hang out instead of jumping on it. It was more straight forward than either of them had ever been about their feelings.

Did she love him back? Was the song the possibility or the reality?

JOFF: I understand. And I feel that song. Reminds me of you.

He stared at the screen. Understand, please understand, he thought. I need you to know.

LUCY: Finish listening to that album and go to bed.

JOFF: I have a song for you to listen to.

LUCY: Spill. I’ll take it to bed with me.

He smiled. Perfect. It was just the song he wanted her to go to bed with.

JOFF: Talib Kweli. Talk To You.

LUCY: Never heard it.

JOFF: Good. Download and take it to bed. Exactly where I want you to hear it.

Notes