And I Thought I Loved You Then

Sidney pulled back the right cuff on his black home jersey and peered down at his watch. It was nearly quarter after twelve and he'd been waiting in the front lobby of the children's hospital for nearly forty five minutes. He'd left the Lemieux house in the nearby affluent suburb of Sewickley shortly before eleven, wanting to give himself time to not only make up for the horrific driving conditions caused by the torrential downpour and accompanying thunder and lightening storm that he been assailing the city since early that morning, but for the handful of inconveniences he knew he'd stumble upon once he arrived at his destination. He'd have to find a parking spot in the notoriously crowded underground lot, then cheerfully and willingly oblige anyone and everyone that asked for an autograph. He was always willing, ready and able to accommodate the fans.

While other players simply ignored the throngs of people that surrounded them and often rudely pushed their way through the sea of humanity, he'd always been the type to sign anything that was shoved in his face. Whether or not he'd had a horrible game and was pissed off with himself and his team, or if he was battling the flu and feeling like complete and utter shit, he always made it a point to satisfy as many people as possible. If it wasn't for the fans and their support, the club and the players themselves wouldn't be as financially successful as they were. These were people that camped out overnight in front of the arena to purchase playoff tickets. Lawn chairs and sleeping bags stretching for blocks, whether it was perfect weather conditions or raining like hell. Who spent outrageous amounts of money to attend games and who'd supported the team when it looked as if things were going completely down the shitter. And it only took one bad experience, one slip of the tongue or one wrong look of annoyance you gave someone, to ruin your entire reputation not only in the community, but around the world as well. Stopping for autographs and pictures and small chit chat were all small prices to pay for fame.

And the kids...the kids were his weakness. It was children he was drawn to in the crowds of people that often surrounded him. He jumped at every opportunity presented to him if it involved kids. Especially those in the hospital or ones with special needs. He'd always been the guy in middle school and eventually high school to take the disabled kids under his wing. He was their friend when no one else wanted to be bothered with them. Sitting with them in the lunch room, hanging out with them after class, tutoring them. And sometimes, even knocking the crap out of some bully that got his kicks tormenting those who were fragile and 'easy targets'. And he'd always promised himself, when it came time to have his own children, if he was given one with special needs, he was going to treat it as a gift. A blessing. Because, as his grandmother had taught him once, "God gives special children to special people". He wasn't one to back down from a challenge, and love had no boundaries. Whether someone was 'perfect' or not.

It was amazing what went through your mind at the strangest of times, Sidney mused to himself, as he covered his watch with his sleeve once more, and leaning back in the chair he'd parked himself in twenty minutes before, pulled the black and grey Reebok ball cap off his head and raked his fingers through his curly dark hair. Tapping the toe of one of his sneakers against the linoleum floor beneath him, he moulded the brim of the hat in his hands, his eyes riveted on his task, ignoring the curious stares of on lookers lingering in the front lobby. Their eyes wide and interested, as if they were holding their breath waiting for him to turn the cap into solid gold with his bare hands. While he understood the publics fascination with him -with any one even remotely famous even- there were times that he found the constant attention incredibly annoying. Where he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from asking people what the hell their problems were. Where he was in a bitchy mood and wanted to snap on someone was invading his privacy while out with his family or friends. He was after all, human. And humans screwed up and freaked out and had melt downs.

Only most didn't have to read about their behaviour the next day in the papers and have every narrow minded ass raking them over the coals and calling them every foul name in the book when they had a bad day.

It was one of the main reasons he didn't date. Why he didn't put serious effort into finding and keeping a girlfriend. Along with constraints on his time and his strict devotion to his career, the constant scrutiny and living under the public microscope was unfair for any woman to put up with. And he wasn't the kind of guy to hook up with a celebrity. That just wasn't his scene. He wanted someone...normal. Someone that had a good sense of humour and was intelligent and didn't want to be with him because he was a household name. He wanted a down home, laid back, average girl who wouldn't, because of his consuming schedule, be clingy and possessive. Who didn't expect to be first on his list of priorities and didn't blow a gasket when he couldn't make it to, or even remember important dates.

That was what he wanted to find. What he needed to find.

Sure, Sid thought, and slipped his hat back onto his head. And tomorrow you're going to wake up and hell will be frozen over and pigs will be flying.

Giving a sigh, he reached for the open bottle of lime flavoured Gatorade on the end table next to him and the dog eared copy of Friedrich Nietzsche's Beyond Good and Evil that he'd been carrying everywhere with him for the past six weeks. He took a swig of the Gatorade and settled the bottle between his legs before cracking the book open. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the elderly gentleman beside him eyes widen in surprise at the title and author of the book.

I'd like to see that in the paper tomorrow, Sid thought with a grin. A hockey player with a brain. Or at least one that's trying to expand his.

He had finished his chapter and had started on the next when he heard the click of high heels rapidly approaching. Glancing up, he spotted a tiny, determined and slightly embarrassed looking brunette quickly closing in. Her willowy body clad in a conservative charcoal pant suit with a baby blue top underneath and black high heels. Her chestnut hair pulled back and secured in a bun and a modest amount of make up gracing her nearly flawless complexion. A large, leather bound binder was clasped tightly to her chest, and a pair of dark coloured, rectangular framed glasses were perched on the top of her head.

Despite her professional appearance, she was definitely not what he was expecting. In fact, he'd walked in with expectations of the social worker being someone....older. Maybe even his mom's age or beyond. And this girl -woman, he corrected himself- didn't even look old enough to have graduated college.

And she was cute. Damn cute, in fact.

"I am so, so, so very sorry," she apologized, as she finally came to stop in front of his chair. "I was caught up with one of my kids....well not one of my kids...but one of the kids I work with..." she rambled, her cheeks flushed.

"No big deal," Sid assured her, giving a shrug to show that he was, in fact, not bothered at all at the fact he'd been waiting that long. "It happens right? All in a day's work?"

"It definitely is," she agreed, blowing her bangs off of her forehead, as he closed his book, capped the Gatorade and stood up. "Still, I shouldn't have let time get away from me like that. I am truly sorry, Mister Crosby."

He couldn't help but grin at the use of such a formal term. And seizing the opportunity to make her feel more at ease and hopefully ease some of her embarrassment, looked over his right shoulder. Then his left.

"What?" she asked. Perplexed.

"My dad's here?" he inquired.

Her hazel eyes narrowed as her head dipped to one side, trying to make sense of what he was saying.

"You called me Mister Crosby," he told her. "And that's just...well that's what people call my dad. People don't call me that."

"What do people call you?" she asked, a bright smile finally cracking her face and her eyes sparkling with relief.

"Well...my first name. To start. Sid. Sidney. Doesn't matter. Either or."

"I don't do short forms," she informed him. "So I guess it's Sidney. I'm Autumn," she moved her binder to her left forearm and offered her right hand. One that was covered, back and front, in various Disney Princess stickers. "Autumn Winters."

"Pretty name. Unique." he told her as he took her hand, ignoring the stickers, his words tumbling out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop them. Hoping that she took the compliment as genuine instead of thinking he was just some guy tossing it out there, using it as a corny pick up line.

And man, he thought, as her fingers curled around his hand. She's got the tiniest hands I've ever seen. The tiniest, softest hands at that.

"It wasn't so pretty or unique when I was growing up," she said. "Want to hear what my middle name is?"

He nodded.

"Summer," she admitted with a long, drawn out sigh. "Yeah...." she smirked when she saw his eyes widen. "My parents are warped to say the least. Do you have any idea what it was like being named after not one, but two seasons? And then three? Torture. Pure torture."

"I still think it's really pretty," Sid told her. "And if it makes you feel any better, being named Sidney is no picnic. I mean, it was alright until that tv show Alias came out. You know, the one with Jennifer Garner?"

Autumn nodded.

"Yeah....my life became hell 'cause her name was Sydney. People got on me all the time about having a girl's name."

Her smile broadened as she quickly relaxed, feeling completely at ease with his easy going, affable demeanour.

"So you have a thing with Disney Princesses or...." he cast a glance down at her hand.

"Oh my God!" she gasped and slapped her palm to her forehead. "One of the little girls. A family I work with. She's five and completely obsessed with anything to do with Disney. I gave her a colouring book and a huge box of stickers and she...well she used me as her human canvas."

"At least it's not permanent marker," he chuckled, then turned his palm over to discover a Jasmine sticker that had transferred from Autumn's hand to his.

"This is honestly one of the weirdest introductions I've ever been through," she said, and reached out to pluck the sticker off of his skin. "So much for first impressions, huh? You must be thinking I'm a total space cadet."

"Nah...." he responded. "I'm thinking that you're probably the first normal person, female person, I've met since I got to Pittsburgh."

She blushed slightly. "Well I don't know about normal," she laughed. "I actually prefer eccentric."

"That works too," Sid said with a smile.

"So..." she glanced around. "Is it just you or....?"

"I didn't realize there were other players coming," he told her.

"There isn't. I meant is it just you? You haven't brought anyone? No peeps? No posse?" she asked.

"Just me," he replied.

"No 'boys'? No Turtle?"

It was his turn to frown.

"From the show Entourage," she explained. "One of Adrian Grenier's friends."

"Never seen it. But seeing as I'm from Nova Scotia, I'm more a Bubbles and Julian kind of guy. You know, from...."

"Trailer Park Boys," she grinned. "Love that show. I'm more of a Jay-Rock girl myself."

"You actually know that show?" he looked, and sounded, surprised.

"I'm originally from Wolfville," Autumn explained. "Which I think is about....three hours away from Cole Harbour?"

"About that....so how does a Maritime girl end up here?" Sid asked.

"Same way a Maritime boy does," she replied. "Work."

Sid grinned. On top of being damn cute, she was feisty and witty. Quick with the comebacks and the one liners. And he liked that. A lot.

"Anyway, I'm glad you're alone," she said. "Last time we had an athlete come by? He brought fifteen people with him. Family members, friends, his agent, a personal assistant and his spiritual advisor."

"That's a little...."

"Pretentious?" she laughed.

God, she had an adorable laugh. And every time she smiled, her nose and her eyes crinkled.

"He was a complete and utter tool," she continued. "He was here as part of his probation. And still demanded we validate his parking and give him and his cronies meal vouchers."

"Nice guy," Sid snorted. "Let me guess....a Steeler?"

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess. Let's just say, I've been to charity gigs with some of them and they were a little...annoying."

"That's being very diplomatic," she chided. "And way too kind. Anyway, I guess we should get the show on the road. I just need you to sign some things. Just confidentiality stuff."

"No problem," he said, as she unzipped the binder and flipped it open.

"I really am sorry for being so late," Autumn told him, as she yanked a pen out of a holder on the inside flap. "I know you have a busy schedule and that you had something planned."

"Just family dinner," he said, taking the pen from her.

"Your family?" she inquired curiously, as she turned the binder around to face him. "God..." she patted down the pockets on her blazer. "Where are my glasses?"

He tapped the pen against the item in question perched on the top of her head.

"Jesus...." she grumbled, and removing them, slipped them onto her face. "Space cadet. Ground control to Major Tom."

Sid grinned. "I love that song," he said, as he printed his name, then scrawled his signature at the bottom of the page being presented to him. "Bowie in general, actually."

"Me too!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "A friend of mine good me hooked. This girl from university that lived across the hall in residence from me. Erica. We still IM and stuff from time to time."

"My old road roomie got me into Bowie," Sid told her. Then held the book up. "And Nietzsche."

"Wow...now there's something you don't see every day. Someone who actually reads that stuff and doesn't use the book as a door stopper. I could never understand his work. Do you get it?"

"For the most part," he said. "I could always explain some of the books to you sometime."

Keep your damn mouth shut, Sid scolded himself. Just don't say anything else. Stop humiliating yourself with your game. Or lack there of one.

"You can be my human Cliffsnotes," she laughed.

And more than that, he mused. Then berated himself for even thinking something like that. At a time like that. In a place like that.

"Perfect," she exclaimed, as he finished signing the confidentiality form. "And I promise you, this was legit. It's not going to show up on eBay or anything."

"Good to know," he laughed.

"Shall we?" she asked, nodding in the direction of the elevators.

"Sure...." he replied, then gathering up the khaki green RBK hoodie tossed over the arm of the chair beside the one he'd been sitting at, fell in step beside her as she led the way towards the elevators. "You been working here long?" he asked.

"Two months," Autumn replied. "I just transferred here from New Jersey."

"New Jersey? How'd you ever go from Wolfville, Nova Scotia to New Jersey?" Sid inquired.

"My husband was from New Jersey," she explained.

"Was?" he asked.

"He's dead," she replied simply.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to..."

"It's okay," Autumn assured him. "It doesn't bother me to talk about it anymore. It was five years ago now. He was a state trooper. An impaired driver shot him. He pulled the guy over and never saw it coming,"

"Wow...." Sid bit his bottom lip nervously. Embarrassed with himself that he'd got a complete stranger talking about something so personal. Not that he didn't care about what had happened to her. As a human being he was empathetic to a fault. Something instilled in him from both of his parents. "That's just....wow...."

She nodded and reached out to press the up button for the elevator. "Bad things happen to good people," she reasoned.

"Unfortunately," he said. "I'm just....I'm really sorry. About your husband."

She gave a small smile and a nod. Then cleared her throat. "Thank you."

A silence fell upon them as they waited for the elevator. Sid kept his eyes riveted on the illuminated numbers above each door, as Autumn rocked back and forth on her heels and drummed her fingernails against the underside of her binder.

"My second family," he suddenly spoke up.

She looked up at him.

"You asked about the dinner. If it was a family thing."

"Second family?" she asked curiously.

"I live with Mario Lemieux and his wife and kids," Sid replied. "I've been there since I first came to Pittsburgh. They're like my second family. I like being around a lot of people. I can't live alone. Just can't do it. I still get homesick. Miss Cole Harbour and my own folks and little sister. And being at Mario's? It's like having a mom and dad and a whole bunch of brothers and sisters around. On the Sundays that I'm in town, she makes a huge meal."

"That's nice," Autumn said with a smile. "I'm huge into family, too."

"Yeah? You don't think it's weird? A guy my age, making what I do, not having my own place?"

"Do you find it weird that I live with my deceased husband's mother?" she inquired.

"I find it...." he searched for the right word. "Intriguing."

"I think if you're comfortable where you are and it makes you happy being there, why give all that up," Autumn said.

"Hmm..." Sid nodded slowly. "Most girls that find out that I live there think it's strange."

"Well," she said, as the elevator finally arrived and the doors slid open. "I'm not like most girls."

He just smiled in response, then motioned for her to walk onto the elevator ahead of him. Stepping in alongside of her, he reached for the button for the fourth floor. At the exact same time Autumn did. Their wrists bumping against each other, the palm of his hand coming to rest, albeit momentarily, on the top of hers.

"Sorry," they said in unison.

Autumn gave a flustered laugh and took her hand away. "How'd you know it was the fourth floor?" she asked.

"Your boss said paediatric oncology earlier," he replied. "And...." leaning forward, he tapped his finger against the metal plate alongside the button that clearly read, PEADEATRIC ONCOLOGY.

Her face turned a brilliant shade of crimson.

Sidney grinned, then elbowed her arm playfully. "Somewhere between playing hockey non stop all my life, I actually learned to read," he teased.

Autumn couldn't help but laugh, her uneasiness and embarrassment quickly fading once again.

Maybe it wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.