And I Thought I Loved You Then

"How's it going, squirt?" Sid asked, as he wandered into Autumn's kitchen fifteen minutes after they'd been surprised by the seven year old's unexpected and early arrival.

He'd been tossed a fresh towel she'd snagged during a mad dash to the hall closet, and then unceremoniously pushed in the direction of the en-suite bathroom. His hair was still damp and his shirt clung to his back and shoulders; he'd barely had the time to dry off before Autumn was shoving his clothes in his hands and began frantically stripping the sheets off her bed and tidying up. It had actually been quite amusing, watching her, frazzled and embarrassed that her seven-year-old son had busted them in the act. Worried that Ryan would come up there, see her with her hair messed up and her ‘bummy’ clothes on and immediately know what was going on. That he would actually smell 'the dirty' in the room.

Sid had cracked up at that. Sure, there was a very distinct, yet not entirely unpleasant, odour in the room; the musky smell of sex mixed in with perspiration. But it was her behaviour that had him nearly buckled over in laughter. A twenty-seven year old woman ripping all the sheets off the bed and making a foul face as she balled everything up and tossed it into the hamper in her closet. The way she fretted over her son knowing she was having sex like a teenage girl worried about being caught in the act by an over protective big brother or a deranged father. Although his laughter had been replaced by coughing and gagging when she'd proceeded to douse her mattress, the surrounding area of the bed, and her body with nearly half a bottle of J.Lo perfume. And he'd been forced to, with his lungs burning and his eyes watering, flee the room and leave her to her own devices.

He assumed she'd gotten the room cleaned and aired out to her specifications; he could now hear the shower running as she attempted to rid herself of any evidence of their extra curricular activities.

"It's going...." Ryan mumbled from where he sat at the kitchen table. His school bag dumped at his feet and his arms crossed over his chest.

"It's not going to go by the sounds of it," Sid commented.

"I totally forget about soccer on Monday!" the seven year old exclaimed. "Mom signed the permission slip a long time ago and then I totally forgot when the first practice was! And now I don't have any equipment! I have no shin pads, no cleats, no nothing! And I can't play without the right stuff!"

"I'm sure you're mom will take you to get stuff," Sid said, as he pulled out the chair across from the little boy and sit down. "She seems pretty cool when it comes to making sure you have everything you need for school."

"Mom's always too busy!" Ryan lamented. "She's either always at the hospital or she's always bringing work home! And if mom can't do it then grandma will have to take me! And grandma's boring. Mom's more fun to hang around with. Grandma makes me go to the used sports place and I hate it there! Last year, when I played football, I had to wear someone else's old gear! And it was gross and it stunk and it pissed me off!"

"Your mom knows you use language like that?" Sid asked curiously.

"Yeah...but she doesn't like it," Ryan admitted. "She always tells me she's going to wash my mouth out with soap."

"Has she ever done it?"

The seven year old shock his head.

"My mom washed my mouth out with Palmolive dish detergent for saying S word when I was ten," Sid recalled. "And trust me buddy, it was gross and I never said it again. At least not around my mom or any other adult. So unless you want to suffer like I did, I think maybe you should tone your mouth down a bit around your mom, okay? Moms need to be respected. And I bet it doesn't make her feel too good when you talk like that around her. You don't want that, right?"

Ryan shook his head.

"Your mom works really hard at her job and it's tough on her having to do that and take care of you. And it will make things a lot easier on her if you don't give her such a hard time and you don't act so...B-boy. Know what I'm saying?"

The little boy nodded.

"And you know what? I know all about having to go with used gear. When I was a kid, my folks didn't have a lot of money and for the first couple of years that I was in hockey all we could afford was stuff from the consignment stores or equipment my dad got off co-workers whose kids had grown out it. I hated it. It was gross having to use someone else's stuff."

"It's gross," Ryan said. "It stinks..."

"It's always nice to have new things," Sid reasoned. "I used to have to deliver flyers on the weekends and after school to help my parents buy me my own equipment."

"Mom gives me an allowance," the seven year old said. "For helping with the dishes and carrying groceries into the house and for cleaning my room and stuff like that. But I only have forty bucks and that's not even enough to get cleats! And if mom can't take me then grandma will and she'll make me get the used stuff! She won't let mom buy the good stuff!"

Sid cast a glance over his shoulder at the digital clock on the stove. "I think your mom is going to be a while," he said. "I know she's got some stuff to do and..."

"How come mom's taking a shower at four in the afternoon?" Ryan asked curiously.

"Your mom was...we were...your mom took a nap when we got here and she said that she wanted to freshen up."

Ryan cocked his head to the side and observed Sid closely. "You took a shower too," he commented. "If you took a shower and my mom wanted to take a shower, how come you didn't just do it together? Saves water. Helps out the environment."

Sid chewed on his bottom lip. Both thoughtfully, and nervously. "Because we..."

"I'm just playing!" Ryan cried, and laughed heartily. "I'm not stupid, ya know. I know what you guys were up to. Same thing you guys were up to last night and that's how you ended up leaving your cell phone here. I do know about stuff like that."

"Stuff like..."

"You know...stuff like the nasty. The birds and the bees. Knocking boots."

Sid's eyes widened.

"I may be seven, but I know things," Ryan said. "I hear all the older kids at school talking about stuff like that and I hear grandma and Ellis all the time. It's funny, you know. Hearing stuff like that. Why do people make noise like that? If sex is supposed to be fun, why are people moaning and groaning and screaming sometimes? Sounds like someone's killing ya if you ask me. I thought sex was supposed to be fun."

"It is fun. A lot of fun, actually. And not everyone makes that kind of noise and they..." Sid raked a hand through his hair. "You know what? You're way too young to be talking about stuff like that. Unless you want to talk to your mom about it."

"Are you kidding? Mom would have a stroke! Last year in New Jersey, I had to start going to a different school 'cause this grade eight girl on my school bus got going giving some boy a b..."

"Okay...so do you want to go and get that soccer stuff?" Sid asked, anxious to change the subject. "'Cause your mom has some stuff to do and I have all the time in the world. So if you want to go..."

"You're going to take me?" Ryan's eyes widened in surprise.

"Picking sports equipment is kind of a guy thing, don't you think?"

The little boy nodded.

"Well I'm a guy and I'm huge into sports. So do you want to go or...?"

"Hell yeah I wanna go!" Ryan cried exuberantly, as he jumped out of his chair with such sudden force that he sent it toppling backwards. "You actually go shopping? You go to the mall by yourself? You don't have peeps to do that kind of thing for you?"

"No peeps," Sid told him. "I go by myself."

"Don't most famous people have all kinds of dudes following them around? Doing all their crap for them? Making sure that no one messes with them?"

"I'm just a hockey player, Ryan. I'm not some Hollywood star or anything."

"But you're the most famous hockey player in the world! You're like the next Mario Lemieux and Wayne Gretzky! Mom says that you're the NHL poster boy. That you're like the prodigal son. Whatever that means..."

"Well I'll tell you what. I don't have people following me around and doing stuff for me, and I don't have bodyguards. But.." Sid stood up and tousled the little boy's hair affectionately. "How about if someone messes with me, you can take care of them. How's that sound?"

"Sounds cool!" Ryan exclaimed, and scooping his backpack up, slung it over his shoulder. "Do I get hazard pay?" he asked curiously, as both he and Sid headed for the kitchen door. "Seeing as you probably got all kinds of nutters and crazy girls throwing themselves at you all the time? I should get some sort of compensation for that."

"You know way too many big words for a seven year old," Sid declared.

"Mom says I'm a walking dictionary," Ryan declared proudly. "So do I? Get some kind of hazard pay?"

"How about I pay you in ice cream?"

Ryan considered it. "Naw...ice cream's not really my thing."

"Pizza?" Sid tried again.

"Say McDonalds and we got a deal," the little boy said.

Sid grinned. "You know...if you were twenty-years older, I'd hire you as my agent. You're pretty good at the whole bargaining thing. How'd you ever get so smart?"

"'Cause I'm just like my mom!" Ryan declared. "She's pretty smart. Don't you think?"

Sid nodded.

"Not to mention she's totally hot. All my older buddies think so. They're always talking about how hot she is. You think my mom's hot?"

"I think..." Sid chose his words carefully. "That you're mom is amazing."

Ryan beamed up at him.

"And that she had an amazing kid," Sid added.

"Yeah...she lucked out when she had me, that's for sure!" Ryan agreed. "I'm gonna go and put my stuff in my room and then we can go, okay?"

"Okay...I'll go and tell your mom we're leaving."

"Don't let her come along," Ryan pleaded, as he paused at the bottom step of the stairs that led from the living room to the upper floor. "Can it just be us?"

"We'll make it a guy thing," Sid promised.

"I told my mom that you're cool! That you're so different from that douche bag!" the little boy declared, then bounded up the stairs.

Sid grinned and shook his head in disbelief.

Not just because Ryan was such an affable, happy go lucky kid, but because of how that little boy, and his mother, were so quickly and easily becoming such a huge part of his life.

In the blink of an eye, Ryan and Autumn had filled a huge hole in his heart that he'd never known existed.

xxxxx

Sid had quickly learned, that lurking just under the surface of the 'gangsta' facade that Ryan put out with his 'ghetto speak' and his baggy jeans and backwards ball cap, was an extremely sensitive and lonely little boy. That while his mother had done an amazing job essentially raising him on her own and trying her best to make his life without a father -or at least even a small hint of a male role model- in it as normal possible, he was craving, and desperate for, interaction with a guy. Moms could only do so much, especially when they had a full time job to hold down and bills to worry about. And while Ryan appreciated his mother for trying her hardest to play the roll of a dad as well by getting interested in his love for collecting sports cards and his near obsession with football, baseball and soccer, he was dying to have a guy to bond with. And someone to talk to, outside of his sole parent, that he could talk to about some of the things that were bothering him.

The first sign of Ryan's emotional issues was that instead of assuming that people on the street and the mall were staring at him because of who he was on his shopping excursion with, the seven year old automatically declared that everyone was looking at him because he was 'weird looking and different than everyone else'. That he was being looked at and whispered about because his dad had been black and his mom was white and he had 'ugly hair and skin' because of it. Sid had done his best to calm the kid down by telling him that people were staring at THEM and talking about THEM. It had nothing to do with the colour of his skin or how his hair looked and all to do with the fact that there was a little kid wandering the mall with Sidney Crosby the same day the media had been tipped to the fact that the city's Golden Boy had a girlfriend. And that Autumn's life history had been spread around as well. People were just curious. Nothing more, nothing less.

Ryan had seemed placated with the explanation, and had been cheerful and relaxed throughout the entire hour that they'd spent in the sporting goods store. Trying on several different brands of cleats before deciding on which kind to go with and then moving on to the protective gear. While the stares and the whispering continued, and Sid signed autographs for staff and other customers alike, Ryan was upbeat and smiling and laughing easily. And quick to tell anyone that came within hearing distance that his mom was 'the girl in the papers that everyone is talking about'.

The seven year old's mood had been great until they made their way to the check out and dumped all of their purchases -two sets of everything, so that Ryan always had a back up to rely on- in front of the young college student manning the cash register. It had been an innocent question on her behalf that had sparked an emotional meltdown. The Penguins frequented the same store when they did their twice a year charity gig of taking underprivileged kids shopping for school necessities or winter gear, and the cashier had simply asked if Sid had the voucher that the club gave out for the players to hand in so that the team was billed for all purchases.

Ryan had taken the question as a personal attack and had first yelled at the young woman that he was nobody's charity case and that his mom and Sid were dating, and then had thrown his arms around Sid's waist and promptly dissolved into a sobbing mess. The cashier had been mortified and had apologized profusely, and Sid had told her to just go about her business and ring everything up, while trying do his best to console the hysterical seven year old. Before tossing his credit card at the clerk without even bothering to look at the end total.

In the end, they'd left the store with an obscene amount of bags in their possession, and Ryan's arms locked tightly around Sid's neck as he carried the little boy. It had been hard to ignore the stares and the whispers about Ryan's immature and 'bratty' behaviour, and it had taken all Sid's patience to not snap and tell them all to simply mind their own fucking business.

"Please don't tell mommy," Ryan had sniffled into his shoulder. "She'll get angry 'cause I was bad. I don't want mommy to be mad at me. Don't be mad at me. I'll be a good boy from now on. Don't get mad and go away. You won't go away, right? 'Cause I was a bad boy? 'Cause mommy will be sad if you go away and I don't want her to be sad anymore."

Sid had assured the little boy that he wasn't going to tell mommy what had happened, and that just because he felt sad and angry sometimes didn't mean that he was a bad boy. Or that people were mad at him. It was hard being a little kid. You're feelings got hurt and people treated you bad and said things they didn't really mean to.

And that what had happened in the store was not going to make him leave. That both Ryan and his mom meant way too much to him to ever walk away from them.

A half an hour later, in the crowded, noisy food court of the mall, McDonalds seemed to be the perfect comfort food for the seven year old. He was still puffy eyed and sniffling from his ordeal, but he was calm as he and Sid sat beside each other on the ledge of the fountain in the middle of the shopping center, away from the insanity of the eating area.

"You don't have to be nice to me just 'cause you're with my mom," Ryan suddenly spoke up, as he sipped on his pop.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Sid asked. "Hanging out with you because of your mom?"

"I dunno..." the seven year old shrugged. "But you don't have to if you are. Just 'cause you and my mom are kickin' it doesn't mean you have to bother with me."

"I'm being nice to you and bothering with you because I want to," Sid told the little boy next to him. "Because I'm genuinely a nice person and you're fun to be around. And I guess I thought maybe you could use a guy to hang around with. It's hard just being around your buddies from school and your mom and your grandma all the time, I bet."

"It's not good at all," Ryan sighed.

"No guy wants to have girls to talk to all the time," Sid reasoned. "I mean, there's things we can't tell our moms and grandmas. And it's okay that they want to play soccer and basketball and go camping and stuff like that with us, but sometimes...sometimes you just want guys to do those things with."

"Yeah..." the seven year old agreed. "Mommy is cool and all that and she's pretty good at playing basketball and throwing a football, but she's still not a dude, you know?"

Sid nodded and took a sip from his own drink. "I guess that happens to you a lot, huh?" he asked after a short period of silence. "Guys only being nice to you because they want to make a good impression with your mom?"

"Mommy doesn't really go out with a lot of guys," Ryan answered.

"How about the ones that she has gone out with?" Sid inquired. "Did they do that? Pretend to be your friend so that your mom would like them more?"

"She's only had two boyfriends other than you," the little boy said.

"David and..."

"And this guy in New Jersey. He worked for the Knicks. You know, the basketball team?"

Sid nodded.

"He was Jason Kidd's personal trainer. Do you know who Jason Kidd is?"

"Not personally."

"Mom went out with Jason Kidd's personal trainer for a little while. She met him at this dress up thing she had to go to. You know, where the women wear really nice dresses and the dudes wear suits? That's where she met him."

"What was he like?" Sid asked. "Was he an alright guy or...?"

"He was okay," Ryan gave a shrug of indifference. "He had two kids but they were teenagers and didn't want some little kid hanging around them all the time."

"Teenagers?" Sid arched an eyebrow. "How old was this guy?"

"I dunno...he was old as grandma I guess. He had grey hair and everything. He was way too old for mommy. Grandma even said so. They didn't go out for long though 'cause he got back together with his wife. Mommy was upset 'cause the guy said that he wasn't married anymore, but he was all along. I heard her talking to grandma about it."

"Your mom must have been really sad about that," Sid commented.

"Naw...not really. I don't think mommy liked him that much. He never spent the night like you do. He always went home at the end of the night. You sleep over. That's how I know she likes you a lot."

Sid couldn't help but grin at Ryan's honest assessment. "And what about this last guy? David."

"Doctor McSleazy?" Ryan frowned and rolled his eyes. "He's a tool. He was mean to mommy all the time. He used to make fun of her and call her stupid and ugly and stuff like that. Grandma told him off a couple of times 'cause she was mad that he treated mommy like that. I'm glad he's gone. He was a moron."

"Yeah...he definitely is a douche bag," Sid said.

"He came to my school today," Ryan announced, as he reached for the cheeseburger sitting on the paper bag spread out on the ledge beside him. "At recess. Because he wanted to talk to me about my mom."

Sid frowned. "And did you talk to him?"

Ryan shook his head. "He wanted me to go with him somewhere to talk. And mommy always tells me never to go anywhere with strangers. I know him, but he's a jerk so I wouldn't go with him."

"Did he say anything else to you? Did he tell you what he wanted?"

"He just said that my mom isn't a very good mom 'cause she's not around much and he thought that maybe I needed a better place to live so he wanted me to tell him bad things about her so that I'd be taken some place better. A foster home. Whatever that is. 'Cause my mom's bad and is mean to me 'cause she works so much."

Unable to either form a reasonable response or fathom why Autumn's ex would show up at the school and scare Ryan into siding with him, Sid sighed heavily, removed his ball cap and raked his hands through his hair.

"Mommy's not mean," Ryan piped up, stressing each word. "She's a really good mommy. Just 'cause she works a lot doesn't mean that she's bad."

"Lots of moms work a lot," Sid told him. "And they're great moms just like yours is."

"Will I really have to and live somewhere else?" the seven year old sounded, and looked, terrified at the mere thought. "Just 'cause mommy works tons? Will I really have to go and live in a foster home?"

"You won't have to go anywhere," Sid assured him. "I promise you. Your mom takes really good care of you and your grandma is always around when your mom has to work. There's lots of families just like yours and the kids don't get sent to live somewhere else. There's nothing for you to worry about, okay?"

Ryan sighed heavily.

Sid reached out and tousled the little boy's hair affectionately. "Okay?" he asked once more. "Trust me, buddy. You won't have to go and live somewhere else. And we'll make sure that that moron can't bug you again. Your mom can talk to your teacher or your principal and..."

"You can't tell mommy!" Ryan's eyes widened in horror. "I don't want mommy to know! She'll get upset and she'll freak out him and that will just make things worse! He told me not to tell her 'cause she'd get mad and send me away! Send me to where all the bad kids go!"

"Ryan, listen to me. Your mom loves you and wouldn't get upset with you. She doesn't want this guy coming around you and saying stuff like that. And if she knows about it, she can put a stop to it. If she doesn't know, she can't do anything about it."

"But I told you!" Ryan cried. "You can do something about it! Can't you? You can tell him not to come around me anymore! He'll listen to you. 'Specially if you threaten to kick the s..." the seven year old caught himself. "...snot out of him."

"I can't just go around threatening to beat someone up," Sid told him. "As much as I actually want to knock him around..."

"You'll get in trouble. And then people will think you're some bad guy, right? It will get in the papers and all of that and then you'll get in trouble," Ryan concluded.

"It's not that. It's just that..." Sid sighed, and bending the brim of the ball cap in his hands, slipped the hat on backwards. "I'll find a way to deal with it, okay? Without telling your mom about it."

"Promise?" Ryan asked. "Promise you won't tell mom?"

"I promise," Sid replied.

The seven year old held out his hand, baby finger extended. "Pinkie swear?"

Sid grinned, then hooked his little finger around Ryan's. "Pinkie swear," he said.

And they 'shook' on it.