Beautiful Mistake

Her natural red hair hung loosely in a bun, several curls already escaping the confinement of the rubber band as she quickened her pace. She was running late, something that only increased her frustrations.

Moving to Chicago had been all her idea. She had been there a few times as a kid and had instantly fallen in the love with the vast city. After deciding she needed a break from Canada, she packed her bags and prepared to move to an entirely new country.

She needed to get away from Lethbridge, from all of those constant reminders of Brent and Kris. She still saw a lot of the guys from the team often, although many of those who played when Brent and Kris were there were long gone. It was shortly after the two of them left that she gave up entirely on hockey. She wouldn’t go to any of Lethbridge’s games, nor follow the NHL games going on around the league. She washed her hands with that. Now that she was in Chicago perhaps she would try to get into the local football or baseball, or perhaps even basketball teams. She would be open to anything, but the sport on ice with its many fistfights, toothless players, and its constant reminder of her two former best friends.

After they had left, both Kris and Brent had called her several times each. As the weeks went they both ended up calling less because of their overwhelming busy schedules (though Kris did manage to stay connected slightly longer than Brent…) and Isabelle was left alone. She constantly wondered if she should tell them, but without her knowing whom the father really was and not wanting to possibly destroy their careers and dreams she held the secret in. Besides, its not like telling them over the phone was a good idea anyways.

Arriving around the corner at the nearby daycare center she smiled brightly when she saw her three-year-old son, Cayden. His red hair matched her own hair, even having a slight curl to the short hair that sat messily on his head.

After he was born Isabelle use to play “Guess Who the Baby’s Daddy is?” with herself just by looking at her son, but even as he grew older she could never figure out who he looked more alike, Kris or Brent. Cayden looked too much like her side of the family, some of her family members even claiming he looked like Isabelle’s father when he was a baby.

It wasn’t easy telling her parents that she was pregnant at nineteen. It was even harder when she refused to tell them who the father was. They had believed that she knew exactly whom the father was, Isabelle having refused to tell them that she didn’t even know for sure herself. She couldn’t bare it if they thought she was an even bigger slut than they probably already thought she was.

The first few months they were disapproving and strict after hearing about the pregnancy, but as she got closer and closer to her due date, Isabelle’s parents came to realize that the deed had been done and they needed to do what they could to help her become a wonderful mother to her future child.

“Mommy!” Cayden called out, throwing his arms around her legs in a big hug. His arms held tightly around her knees as he head was buried into her lower thigh.

Her face glowed with happiness as she reached over slightly to wrap her arms around her son’s shoulders. “Hi Cayden,” she greeted warmly, gently running her hands through his hair. “Are you ready to go? Make sure you have your coat zipped up all the way, Honey.”

He pulled himself away from her slightly, nodding his head up and down a few times, before playing with his coat zipper. Isabelle laughed when she saw he only unzipped it. She bent down to Cayden’s level and zipped up is dark blue winter coat herself and then kissing his forehead, before standing back up again. With a wave to Natalie, one of the daycare workers, Isabelle and Cayden headed out the door, braving the Chicago wind and cold.

“Up!” Cayden commanded, stopping in his tracks and reaching his small hands up towards Isabelle.

“Cayden, what do you say?” Isabelle questioned, taking his hands in her own.

Cayden paused for a moment, thinking of the right answer. His face lit up when he came across the right one. “Please!!” he yelled with a giggle. “Please up!”

Isabelle gave in, grabbing her son by his waist and hoisting him up to her hip. He was getting bigger and she knew in a few years she wouldn’t be able to do this anymore, but at three-years-old he was still small enough to pick up.

As they walked down the street, Isabelle’s mind wandered to what it would be like if Cayden’s father had been in the picture… whoever his father was.

Would she still be in Lethridge, the three of them together and happy? Would she be fighting for custody of her own son? Would she lose her other best friend, the one who wasn’t the father of Cayden?

She looked down at her son, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck as if he was afraid he’d fall, his head was turn to the sides, watching the people walking around him, his mind free of thoughts about what could have been.

She didn’t know what she would do without Cayden.

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Her fingers tapped impatiently on the desk in front of her. Moving them back up over the keyboard she resumed her typing once again. Working as a secretary was never the job she envisioned for herself when she was younger, but after having Cayden at such a young age her options became much more limited.

The job paid well enough, allowing her and Cayden to live in a safe apartment building, have food on their table, and afford daycare for Cayden. Her boss was a nice enough guy and she had managed to make a few friends around the office, namely her new best friend, Audrey.

“Here,” Audrey spoke, thrusting a coffee into Isabelle’s hands, knowing she could use a pick-me-up.

Isabelle took it gratefully. “You are the best, Audrey!” She took a sip, the liquid warming her insides as she tasted the mocha flavor.

“I know, I know, but thanks for boosting my ego even more, Isabelle,” Audrey laughed, taking a seat at her own desk just down the hall. She fiddled with her straight, dark brown hair, fixing a few loose strands of hair, before getting to work.

Audrey was a pretty girl, tall and very athletic. She had grown up playing basketball and softball, and followed Chicago’s sports teams nearly religiously.

“The Blackhawks won last night!” Audrey informed her friend, smiling away as she began working on her computer.

Isabelle could not help but frown, her desire to not follow hockey washing over her body. “Oh?” she questioned, attempting to sound interested.

Audrey eagerly nodded her head up and down. “Yep! They beat the Minnesota Wild 3-1!”

Isabelle remembered when she use to get that excited about hockey games, rooting her team of choice, the Calgary Flames.

“…Bolland, Brouwer, and Kane all scored. It was amazing. And Huet actually had a pretty good game….” Audrey was speaking, but Isabelle was not completely paying attention, her mind off in the distance.

A sudden thought struck her like lightning.

Brent.

The Chicago Blackhawks had drafted him a few years ago. How had she not thought of that sooner? How did she not remember that when she decided to move to Chicago?

He probably wasn’t even playing for them now. Perhaps playing for their minor league team or even being traded to another team. Trades, after all, were quite a common occurrence among professional athletes.

Audrey’s words suddenly pulled her back to reality. “How come you didn’t watch the game? I thought all Canadians liked hockey.”

Isabelle let out a snort at the assumption. “I use to love hockey,” she admitted. “I guess I just stopped following it a few years ago.” She knew exactly why she stopped her obsession with hockey, but for some reason she felt reluctant to share it with others.

Audrey shook her head. “Well that’s no good. You live in Chicago now.” She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “We have to make a fan out of you. You, me, Chicago Blackhawks versus Montreal Canadians this Friday, and you cannot say no.”

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle questioned, “Oh yeah? And what about Cayden?”

Pausing for a moment in thought, Audrey answered her, “Either get a babysitter or bring him with us.”

Reluctantly Isabelle agreed, deciding she would probably get a babysitter. She couldn’t believe she was going to a hockey game, nor could she believe she gave in so easily.

There was no way Isabelle could stay away from hockey for forever, no matter how hard she tried.