“I’m doin’ fine enough to know that everyone’s a little broken, fine enough to learn that hearts are best when they’re wide open…”


The next five days took longer than Charlotte ever thought five days could take. And even though the first thing Darcy did after getting back was go over to her apartment, the first three days back in town consisted of him trying to normalize his sleep schedule again. It wasn't easy with a sixteen hour time difference.

The preseason schedule was forgiving for that, giving the team four days before their next showing. Charlotte only wished that she got to spend some quality time with Darcy before his back and forth schedule picked up again. However, on the fourth day, after having hibernated himself back into normalcy, he had an idea for a different sort of quality time.

She was already sitting on the couch, scrolling through Buzzfeed articles when he walked in from the bedroom that morning. His boxer briefs hung low on his hips and he rubbed his eyes, grinning like a child when he saw her. He continued into the kitchen, only coming back a couple moments later with a mug of coffee.

Charlotte shut her laptop and curled over into his side, setting her feet over his lap. “Practice today?”

Darcy nodded and took a sip of his coffee, squinting as he burnt his tongue. “Do you want to go to the game on Saturday? Coach is putting me in net,”

“Of course,” she set her chin down on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. “I was starting to think hockey was an elaborate lie you told to make yourself sound cooler,” she winked and joked. “Now I’m going to see the real deal.” Charlotte lifted her head and reached for her laptop, opening it just to see the time. “Got any plans after practice?”

“Actually,” he set his hands over her legs and looked at her. She was staring at him, utterly oblivious to the fact that he was about to suggest something that would probably send her into a head-spin. “I was thinking maybe we could see your mom today,”

Charlotte shook her head quickly, and not in a “shooting down his idea” kind of way, but more out of confusion, like she was trying to make sense out of what Darcy had just said. “I don’t know if she’s around today for that…”

“No excuses… please,” he searched her eyes for some form of relent. “I just want to meet her, okay? It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“I don’t really get along with her, Darcy. And I don’t want you think differently of me because of that. We’re Jewish, the only things she’s good at is cooking and making people feel guilty.”

Even though they were midway through a serious conversation, Darcy couldn’t hide his surprise. “You’re Jewish?”

“I’m riddled with Jewish guilt,”

“It’s not that bad,”

“It’s pretty terrible,” Charlotte leaned forward and held onto Darcy’s arm. “The guilt is crippling,”

“I meant your situation with your mom,” he smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Char, I don’t care if you have a troubled relationship with your mom. I mean, I wished you didn't because it’d make your life a lot easier, but I’m not going to think differently of you because of it. Not everyone has good relationships with their parents and that doesn't make them bad people.” He paused and thought that was enough. “So call her and tell her we’re coming by,”

Charlotte opened her mouth to speak again, but Darcy got up from the couch before she could say anything. She pouted, trying to get him to change his mind, but when he looked back at her before going into the bedroom, he smiled and shook his head. In the grander scheme of things, this was nothing. Meeting her mom? It would be a couple hours of their lives, nothing grandiose or life-changing. She could do that, couldn't she?

---

Turns out, she couldn’t. Or at least it was going to be a lot more difficult for her than she thought it would. When she had called up her mom that morning to ask if she’d be around, her mom gave a long-winded rant about how she only called when she needed something. That prompted Charlotte to explain the only reason she was calling at all was because her boyfriend was anxious to meet her. That seemed to calm her down some.

She agreed to be around the house all day, which is why Darcy was now pulling up in front of her childhood home. He ducked his head to look out through the passenger side window, and at the little house that made up Charlotte’s past. Charlotte was quick to push open the car door just to hurry this along and get it over with. She stood on the porch with Darcy beside her, knocking a couple times before the door swung open.

Behind it, a small woman who nearly looked identical to Charlotte, stood first looking at her daughter, and then up at the man beside her. “Charlotte,”

“This is Darcy,” Charlotte cut in.

As she looked down at her feet, Darcy stepped in to make this less awkward, “it’s nice to finally meet you, miss… um…” He stuttered, realizing he didn’t even know her maiden name. This definitely wasn't less awkward.

“Klein,” she stepped to the side and turned, knowing they would follow her in, “I’ve got a pot of coffee on… Do you drink coffee, Darcy? You must. Charlotte drinks coffee like it’s going out of style,”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Charlotte took his hand and led him into the kitchen. As they sat, waiting for Miss Klein to come back with the coffee, Darcy couldn’t but think that this was the table where it had all gone down. This was the table, where at four years old, Charlotte watched her father walk out of her life. When he looked at her again, her expression was pretty hard to read; like she was trying to hide any bit of emotion that might spill out.

When her mom came back with three cups of coffee, Charlotte was quick to take one off her hands. “How long have you two known each other,” she asked, setting one of the cups in front of Darcy.

“January,” Charlotte murmured, reaching for the cream on the table.

“You’ve been dating since January and I’m just meeting him?” Her mom seemed beyond angry at that being the case.

Darcy took a deep breath, knowing he could remedy the situation, “we started dating in July. Met January when I was here for work.”

“What do you do?”

He figured she expected him to say something that was deemed respectable, like a doctor or lawyer, and he had come to town for a conference. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to say something like that. “I’m a professional hockey player,”

“You any good?”

“Mom,” Charlotte groaned. Who the hell would ask that question?

But Darcy took it in stride and chuckled, “yes ma’am, I’d like to think I am.”

She sipped her coffee in a way that Charlotte knew too well. Something was about to come out of her mother’s mouth that she wasn’t bound to like. But all she could do was wait there beside Darcy, wondering when this comment would come out.

“So between you playing games, and my daughter fooling around with God knows what…”

That was it. That was the comment Charlotte was expecting. Some mildly passive comment that only served to express her mother’s extreme displeasure with her chosen career path.

Darcy flicked his eyes to Charlotte, hoping for some reaction so he knew how he should feel, but she gave him nothing. “Her film actually just screened at an international festival in Toronto. It was amazing, miss Klein,”

“Riveting, I’m sure.”

He was wracking his brain trying to figure out how he could give Charlotte everything she had ever wanted in her life; her mother’s approval and pride.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you…” he turned towards Charlotte, “at the beginning of the movie, it says based on true events… whose story is that?”

Charlotte blushed and looked down at her cup. Why was he asking this again? He knew the answer because she remembered telling him in Toronto. And in front of her mom? It was clear she didn’t care about the movie and probably wouldn’t care for the answer either. But there Darcy was, waiting for her response. “my grandpa. He used to tell me that story about when he was in the army, and I just changed the end for drama. When I pitched it to my friend, she just ran with it and wrote it up.

“That’s amazing,” Darcy beamed. Whether he was really that amused or was just playing it up for her mother’s sake, Charlotte would never know. But she had to admit, it felt good to get that response from someone who meant so dear to her. “I’d like to get the full story from you one day,”

She opened her mouth to say something, but caught a glimpse of her mother’s glare from her peripheral and decided against what was about to come out her mouth, “maybe one day.”

The next hour and a half was spent awkwardly avoiding any topics that were too personal. It consisted of a lot of hesitant small talk, calculating the way to least offend anyone. And when they eventually did leave, it was because Darcy had given her a look she knew too well. He had given her that look only a few times in their relationship. The ‘can we please get out of here, I don’t want to be here anymore’ look. The kind of look that you knew with a single glance; the kind that called for immediate action.

On the drive back to South Bay, Charlotte figured Darcy was quiet because he was trying to figure out what he’d just experienced. They’d never really talked about their families much, and what Charlotte knew based on that way she heard him talk to his mother on the phone, they were much closer than she could ever wish to be with hers. Mother and father still married, with two younger siblings, they were like the poster children of what a good, strong Canadian family looked like. And what did that make Charlotte? Mother and father bitterly divorced, only child, hostile relationship with her mother…? How could someone like Darcy and the way he was raised truly love someone like Charlotte. If she was being honest, that haunted her a little bit.

---

She woke up fairly late the next morning. Whatever the reason may be, when she finally did wake up, she found a box with a ribbon around it on the pillow where Darcy’s head should’ve been. With it being game day, she figured Darcy was already at the morning skate. He mentioned something about those; or how he explained them to be warmups before the warmups. So she imagined those to be just a much of guys frolicking around the ice, even though she knew that probably wasn’t the case.

Back to the box. She sat up in bed and stared at it for awhile longer. With the way her brain had been overthinking their relationship for the past fourteen hours, she doubted if it was actually for her or not. Of course it was for her. Charlotte reached over for the sticky note on the top of the box and looked down at it.

So you remember who you’re rooting for tonight.

She smiled to herself and picked up the box to set it in her lap. Before she did anything, she admired the ribbon and the bow it was tied into. And she wondered if that was a secret skill Darcy had been working on over the years. Once she had enough of that, she carefully undid the bow and peeled it away from the box. Then with extreme precision, she lifted the top of the box and folded back the white tissue paper.

As soon as she saw the LA logo on the front, she knew what it was. Although she’d never seen a hockey game, she didn’t live under a rock. She knew it was a jersey, and despite knowing the other part of this gift, she was still pleasantly surprised that when she lifted the jersey and turned it around, she saw Darcy’s last name across the shoulders. But it was different than she expected, with patches written in Mandarin sewn on it.

So that night, when she and Jules took their seats behind one of the goals, she was donning the special jersey. It hung far too big on her, and she figured it was probably because it was game worn from his time in China. Thankfully, he’d thought well enough in advanced to get it dry cleaned first. Jules beamed with excitement when they first sat down, looking out at the rink in front of them. The teams were already on the ice, frolicking around like how Charlotte had foolishly thought. Apparently not so foolish now.

There were tons of pucks on the ice and for the first time, Charlotte was seeing Darcy in his element. He pivoted in front of the next, positioning himself in different stances, before getting down on his hands and knees and spreading his legs out to the sides.

“Those are called baby makers,” Jules winked and elbowed Charlotte in the side.

And she could see why. Then, like they did this all too often, as soon as Darcy stood back up, his team starting firing pucks at him. Like a machine that had been designed to do specifically this, he caught and stopped the pucks as they came at him. And when the first barrage ended, he turned around to face the net, lifted his mask and rested it on top of his head. Charlotte’s eyes were locked on him, feeling more attracted to him than she ever had before. He picked up his water bottle and lifted it to his lips. And with his eyes forward, Charlotte knew he spotted her. His face lit up as he squirted water into his mouth, and she held onto the end of her jersey, pulling it out tight like she was showing it off to him. It all happened so quickly, and with a wink and a nod, he lowered his mask and spun back around, ready to take on the next round of shots.

It was safe to say that she was a nervous wreck the entire time. Whenever the puck came towards Darcy, so did a group of huge, angry men. Their goal was to get a piece of rubber into the net, and the only thing between them and their goal, was Charlotte’s boyfriend. She grabbed onto Jules’ leg more times than not, to keep from absolutely losing it. And then it went to overtime and she thought she saw his life flashing before her eyes. He chose this game, and this position, and it was terrifying. Halfway through overtime, Darcy jumped up and raised his arms over his head. The game was over, with only one goal being made the entire game. The rest of the team jumped over the boards and came to Darcy, celebrating and patting him on the head for a job well done. And that was all followed up by him being awarded the first star of the game. Charlotte watched as he handed a stick over the glass to a small girl standing on her father’s shoulders. Her heart almost burst from the love she had for that boy.

Sometime later, he had texted her about a meeting place where she and Jules could wait for him. It was outside a door just to the left of the Star Plaza entrance. She thought it was a strange place to meet considering the mass of fans still walking about, all trying to get to the exits. Nonetheless they waited, chatting about fairly topical subjects as they both searched through the crowd, expecting to see Darcy walking among it. But then the door behind them opened up and both girls turned around, startled.

Darcy, redressed in his suit, poked his head out from the door and held it open. He flicked his head back and ushered the girls back into the hallway with him. They followed him in and let the door shut behind them.

“Enjoy the game?” Darcy bent down and pecked Charlotte’s lips. He paused for just a moment to look at her reaction, before he bent over to kiss Jules’ cheek.

“You’re pretty good at this hockey thing,” Jules smiled, trying to hide the fact that she was blushing at Darcy’s polite greeting.

He chuckled and grabbed Charlotte’s hand, leading both of them down the hallway towards another door. “Well thanks, Jules. I’ve been playing awhile,”

“I don’t know how many of these games Charlotte’s going to make it to though. She was a wreck the entire time,” Jules admitted. She pushed open the door they had approached, finding themselves now outside the arena.

Charlotte looked up at Darcy as he held the door open for her. As she walked past him and outside, she avoided his eye contact, “guilty as charged.” She thought if she admitted to the claim, the subject would be able to be dropped. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have. How could she tell him that watching him stand still, while men fell around him sending their skates up towards his face and neck, scared the life out of her? How could she tell him that she wasn’t completely sold on the idea that this was his job?

And thankfully as Darcy’s next question was directed at Jules, Charlotte thought he had let it go. “Where’d you park, Jules?”

“I splurged for LA Live parking,” she smiled, knowing that this was where they were going to part. It was the reason she drove in the first place, knowing that Charlotte would go home with Darcy.

“Can I pay for your parking?” Darcy pulled his wallet out of his suit jacket and looked through the billfold, taking out two twenty dollar bills.

Jules waved her hand, “I haven’t gotten to the point of hooking myself out for parking money. But when I get there, you’ll be the first guy I call.” She joked and leaned in to hug Charlotte.

“Then can we walk you to your car?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her as she gave him a hug goodbye.

“No. Take Charlotte home and make nasty, sweaty, goaltending love to her,” she waved goodbye and bounded off across the street for LA Live.

Darcy took Charlotte’s hand and led her in the opposite direction. Charlotte looked up at him as they walked, only to find him with a big smile on his face. Surely for him, nothing could beat this moment. He’d just performed well in a game where the girl he loved was in attendance. And she was so proud of him for that. She wanted nothing more than to see him do well.

But when they got into his car, and Darcy pulled out of the parking garage, Charlotte was nervous to come to realization that he hadn’t gotten past Jules’ comment. “You were a wreck the whole time?” He said it almost in a joking way, as though the thought of her cringing and shrieking at every little play was amusing.

She looked out the window, hoping it would buy her some time before she had to answer. But she felt Darcy take her hand and hold it in his over the center console. Charlotte looked back at him as he flicked his eyes between her and the road. “That sport’s not too good on the nerves,”

He giggled, “yeah you should see my warmup routine.”

Even though he seemed lighthearted about it, she wondered if there was something more sinister behind it. “Are you ever afraid out there?”

“Why would I be afraid?” He glanced over at her quickly. Whatever was going through her head right now, he knew he was going to have to try and remedy it.

“Well if you’re not afraid, I don’t want to tell you, because it might make you afraid,” she stared at him, hoping he wouldn’t make her vocalize her thoughts.

“Nothing you could tell me is going to scare me,”

Charlotte looked back out the window, thinking he just didn’t know what was coming. Because what she had heard, scared her. And anyone hearing it would be a fool not to be afraid. “You know how the game stopped for a little because that guy’s chin got cut and there was a little bit of blood on the ice?”

Darcy nodded, knowing the moment she was talking about. He’d fallen forwards against the glass and jammed his chin against the boards.

“The people behind us started talking about… I don’t know, it was stupid. And then one of them said, did you ever see the video of that goalie when his neck got sliced open? And they kept talking about this video and the goalie’s neck is squirting blood onto the ice, and he’s like dying, and…” In getting worked up, Charlotte lost her breath and had to stop. “You have to stand in front of that net as these guys come crashing into you, and their skates are flying around. And I looked out at you, and I got scared.”

At first he didn’t respond because ultimately, her thoughts were valid. That was an extreme case, but still obviously not impossible. And yeah, he was prone to some serious injuries.

“See, I scared you,”

“No, honey,” Darcy shook his head and squeezed her hand, “you didn’t scare me. But I understand why that might’ve scared you,” he looked over at her quickly. Once he returned his eyes to the road, he lifted her hand and brought it to his lips. “I do have a dangerous job, but things like that don’t happen every game. They rarely happen ever. And if I let myself think about those things and give weight to them, it makes my job even more dangerous. I don’t want you to worry about me because I loved having you at the game tonight, and you look amazing in my jersey…”

“Thanks for having it dry cleaned,” she interrupted.

“Of course,” he responded offhand. He flicked his eyes to her, “I don't want you to feel like you can’t talk to me and ask me about these things because you’re afraid of scaring me. I’m telling you, nothing you could ever say to me would scare me off.”

Charlotte half-smiled and nodded.

“And just incase those people didn’t get to this part of the story… that goalie lived,”

Charlotte nodded again. “I’m glad. You know, not that that happened to him, but that he’s alive.”

Notes

"Doin' Fine" by Lauren Alaina

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