Beautiful Mistake

The week past by much quickly than Isabelle could possibly have hoped. Her typical nine-to-five workdays that usually seemed never ending suddenly flew by, but it was proven fact that the more you worried about something, the more time had the habit of speeding up, bringing you closer to your dreaded event.

Audrey would constantly remind her at work about how much fun they were going to have at the game on Friday. She would go on about how she was looking forward to the fights and how she hoped the captain, Toes or Tavas, or something along those lines would be playing tonight after getting hurt last week.

Isabelle could only shake her head at her friend’s commitment to her favorite hockey team, remembering how she use to act similar when she use to follow the sport.

She sat on her double bed, her head in her hands she tried to figure out why she was even going to this stupid hockey game. She felt a small weight being added on to her lap and she looked down to see Cayden.

“Hi, Honey,” she spoke, loving how he always brought a smile on to her face, no matter how worried or dreading she might be about something.

His big blue eyes gazed up at her, a mix of curiosity and worry gracing his adorable face. “You okay, Mommy?” he questioned, his voice meek and unsure.

Isabelle pulled her son closer to herself, arms tightly around him in a hug. “Of course, Cayden.” She kissed his forehead, before pulling him back to her chest in a hug as she just sat there, holding the most important thing she had.

There was no need to burden her young, three-year-old with her problems. His small, little self wouldn’t understand her reluctance to go to a simple hockey game.

She was thankful he had not yet begun questioning her about his father, but she knew within the next few years it was coming. Surely one day he would come home from school, wondering while all his classmates had both a mommy and daddy, and yet he only had his mommy. He wouldn’t understand why his mommy did not even know whom his father was or why she never really tried to figure it out.

Isabelle shifted her gaze away from her son when she heard a knock on her apartment door.

“Someone here,” Cayden informed her, his eyes looking in the direction of their front door.

“Whose here, Honey?” Isabelle asked Cayden, knowing full well it was Audrey at the door, coming to let Isabelle borrow one of her Chicago Blackhawks jerseys before the two of them headed out to the game at the United Center.

Sloppily he climbed off of his mother’s lap and raced out of the room to get the door.

Arriving at the door a few seconds later, Isabelle smiled upon seeing Cayden waiting patiently for her before he opened the door. She felt a small grace of self-pride as she realized he knew never to open the door without a trusted adult present.

Giving him a nod, Cayden reached up, pulling the door open, a broad smile when he saw Audrey standing there, a jersey swung over her arm.

“Auddy!” he greeted, doing his best to pronounce her name. He threw his arms around her legs just above her knees, causing her to laugh and ruffle his hair.

“Hey buddy.” Turning towards Isabelle she spoke again, “Did you figure out a sitter for him?”

Isabelle nodded her head, leading the three of them into the living room. “Yeah, Mr. and Mrs. Booth said they would be glad to watch him.”

The Booths were an older couple that lived just down the hall from Isabelle and Cayden. The two of them were both in their mid-60s and adored children, but were never able to have them themselves. Isabelle was well aware of the fact they spoiled Cayden; he always came home with a huge smile on his face.

“That’s good. Here’s your jersey. I was going to bring you Jonathan Toew’s jersey, the captain, but I don’t think he is playing tonight because of a concussion he got last week, so I brought you a Sharp jersey. I got my Kane jersey to wear,” Audrey informed her, gesturing to the red Blackhawks jersey she was wearing, then handing over the Sharp jersey to her friend.

Isabelle took the jersey from Audrey’s outstretched hands. “Thanks,” she spoke, pulling the red jersey over her head, covering up the black tank top she had on. She gazed down at her outfit, the jersey, a pair of tight, dark washed jeans, and some black flats.

She wandered over to the bathroom to finish her make-up and fix her hair, both Cayden and Audrey following closely behind her.

Audrey reached over and picked Cayden up, sitting him on top of the bathroom counter so he could be a part of the conversation. He sat there playing with his mother’s hair ties and other accessories as he watched Audrey and Isabelle discuss Isabelle’s hair and make-up choices.

Fifteen minutes later Isabelle was satisfied with her appearance and the three of them were ready to head out.

“Thank you so much for watching him tonight,” Isabelle gushed when she dropped Cayden off at the Booth’s apartment.

Mrs. Booth waved it off. “Believe me, Isabelle, it’s our pleasure. We love having Cayden here.

Isabelle watched as Mr. and Mrs. Booth smiled at each other, wishing that one day she too had that kind of relationship with someone.

With waves and kisses goodbye, Isabelle and Audrey headed out to the Blackhawks game.

--

It felt weird for Isabelle walking into a hockey arena after such a long hiatus. She was in shock that she had even agreed to come here. Fans were everywhere; jerseys, face paint, and signs filling the crowded hallway. Several Montreal Canaidien fans were mixed in with the thousands of devoted Blackhawk games.

“This way,” Audrey led, the two of them heading to their seats.

They still had a fair amount of time before the 7:30 pm game started; plenty of time for Isabelle to prepare for the forceful reentrance of hockey back in her life.

“Isn’t this fun!” Audrey commented as they both sat down.

Audrey’s boyfriend, Joshua, of two years had given her two season tickets for their anniversary back in August, a gift she was more than putting to good use for the past month. Usually she went to the games with him, but tonight she was more than happy to make it a girls’ night out with Isabelle.

“Loads,” Isabelle muttered. But upon seeing Audrey’s disappointed face, she forced herself to get more in to it. She could do this. She loved hockey once and if it would make her best friend happy, she would try to love it again, no matter how hard this was going to be for her.

It was not long before the skaters began their descent out on to the ice, each moving with speed as they warmed up around the rink. Isabelle watched them, admiring their skills at skaters, a small bit of excitement welling up in her chest. There was just something about the game that always pulled her back into to her obsession when she watched it.

Both the American and Canadian national anthems played throughout the arena. Isabelle found it interesting as she watched the Blackhawks fans stand and clap throughout the entire American national anthem, a tradition among fans in Chicago, Audrey had explained to her.

A man’s voice spoke up soon after, announcing both teams’ starting lineups.

“And for your Chicago Blackhawks’ starting lineup,” the loud voice boomed throughout the arena. “With Cristobal Huet in goal, on offense: Andrew Ladd, Dave Bolland, Kris Versteeg—”

Isabelle felt as though her heart stopped, her eyes widen, and the old memories washed over her.

Kris Versteeg.

The announcer’s voice played over and over again in her head, speaking the name she had not heard said aloud in several years.

The man of the name who could possibly be the father of her child.

Isabelle looked over beside her, but Audrey gave no notice of her momentary panic. She forced her eyes to look back down at the eyes, searching for the jersey with ‘Versteeg’ written on it as the skaters found their positions.

Within seconds she found the one she was looking for.

Number 32.

The same number he had when he played back in Lethbridge. His lucky number, as he always use to call it.

Even with his helmet on she could tell it was him. How did she not see him earlier when he was skating around in warm-up?

Had he been drafted by the Chicago Blackhawks? Or was he traded?

Why the Blackhawks? Why did he have to be on the team in the city she move to?

Was it fate?

Brent.

Brent was drafted by the Blackhawks. She knew that. She remembered that. That was what he left her for. Was he still here? Was he down there skating on the ice right now?

Her eyes once again searched the ice, hunting for the familiar last name on the jersey but she came up blank. Perhaps he was sitting on the bench and she just could not see him, or maybe he really was not on the team anymore.

Isabelle could feel her body warm to an uncomfortable temperature, butterflies swimming in her stomach, and worry flush over her.

Looking up at the scoreboard she realized nearly six minutes of the game had already passed, though it hadn’t felt like it.

“I’m going to go get something to drink,” she quickly whispered to Audrey. “Do you want anything?”

Audrey shook her head, her focus still glued to the game. “You are going to miss the game though,” she reminded Isabelle.

“It’s okay,” Isabelle insisted. “I’ll be back soon, I’m just dying of thirst.”

She quickly scurried out of her seat and up the steps, only stopping to catch her breath when she arrived up at the top.

Why was she getting so worked up? What were the chances that she was going to see Kris anyways? He was a professional athlete; its not like she had easy access to get up close to him or anything. It was all going to be okay.

But the question was, did she want to see him? Did she want him to know she was here? Did she want him to know about Cayden? Did she want to find out once in for all if Kris Versteeg was actually the father of her child?

Okay, maybe that was more than one question.

Her mind was so out of focus she was not even paying attention when she ran into another person. She was thankful she managed to stay up right, only swaying slightly, and not falling to the most likely dirty ground below.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke, looking up at the young man she ran in to, but she froze when she saw who it was.

“Izzie?” His voice was full of shock and confusion as his eyes looked her up and down, checking to see if it was truly her.

“Brent.”

That single word made her admit what all along she was hoping was not true. Brent Seabrook was in Chicago.

She took in his appearance in the nice, black suit and she wondered why he was not playing. Perhaps he did not play for them after all and was simply enjoying the game; maybe he was on the minor league team; or he might have been just injured.

He looked much like he did all those years ago, except older and even better looking.

“Izzie…” he started to speak again, but was cut off when her phone went off.

Glancing at the phone she realized it was Cayden, probably calling to say goodnight before he went to bed. A part of her was thrilled by his interruption; happy he had such great timing. But the other part of her knew she should talk to Brent and figure this whole thing out.

“Hey Honey,” she greeted sweetly into the phone, purposely disguising her worry and alarm after seeing Brent.

It was weird hearing her son’s voice as she stood directly in front of the man that might have been responsible for him without him even knowing it.

Cayden was going on about how much fun he was having at the Booths, causing Isabelle’s forced smile to become real. ”Goodnight Mommy, I love you”, he ended, a yawn escaping his mouth.

“Bye Cayden, I love you, and I can’t wait to see you later,” she spoke to her son, before hanging up and once again being forced to face Brent.

The confusion on his face grew even more and Isabelle could not help but wonder what he was thinking.