Fly With You

Her mother’s journal felt like it weighed a hundred pounds as Penelope held it in her hands. It had been a week since her father had given to her, and she still hadn’t been able to open it, to read her mother’s thoughts. Her father urged her to every chance he got, in between their travel back to Vancouver for game five of the Western Final, a game if the Blackhawks won, they would move forward to the Stanley Cup. The young woman knew the journal would help her get over the absence of her mother, but she also knew that before she could heal, she would hurt more, the words painful reminders of what she had missed out on.

She sat on her hotel room bed, staring at the worn cover of the journal when there was a soft knock on the door. Sighing, she left the book on the edge of the bed and moved quickly to the door, a smile coming to her face when she saw Jamie smiling shyly at her. “I’m hoping you haven’t had lunch yet,” he told her, moving past her and into the room. She shook her head, and he grinned, offering his hand to her. She swatted it away and grabbed her messenger bag, making sure to place her mother’s journal in gently, as it was now her most prized possession, along with the necklace her mother had left for her and she wore every day. Offering her hand to Jamie, young hockey player laced his fingers with hers and pulled her from the room, making sure the door closed behind them.

In the lobby, she saw her father and Adam and Eric Burish. The elder Burish let out his famous laugh as her father and best friend narrowed their eyes at her and Jamie’s hands. “We’re going out to lunch,” she told them. “You’re welcome to join—” she started before getting cut off by Adam, putting his arms around Jonathan and Eric who looked more than ready to tag along.

“Oh oh, you kids go ahead! We’ll just get something at the hotel’s restaurant. Have fun!”

Penelope laughed, pulling Jamie through the revolving doors and onto the street where she picked a direction and started to move. “Your dad hates me.”

“He does not! He’s just very protective of me,” she told him, ducking into a small deli. “This good?” she asked, smiling when he nodded. They took a small booth in the back, Jamie sliding in to one side and pulling the girl down next to him. She giggled as she took her messenger bag off and tucked it between her feet on the floor. Jamie’s hand was still holding onto hers as they picked up menus and began to look over the lunch selections.

They were silent until a waitress came and took their drink order, and then they were silent again. Jamie’s menu was suddenly dropped to the table and closed and his green eyes locked on her face and a calloused, bruised and no doubt injured hand ran through his messy brown hair. “Is something wrong?” she asked him, pulling her hand from his and feeling like he was going to give her bad news.

“Yeah,” he told her, and her heart sunk. “Something’s wrong because, Penelope, I cannot get you out of my head. I’ve known you for two weeks, but you’re all I think about.” She opened her mouth to say something, but he waved a hand, cutting her off. “Even when I’m playing, I’m thinking about you, wondering if you’re watching and if you’re proud. I just…” he paused, his shoulders slumping. “I sound crazy.”

“No, you don’t, because I have the same problem.”

His eyes met hers, and he smiled. “You do?” Nodding, she grinned, watching as his lips spread thin into a wide smile too. She leaned toward him, her lips pressing against his in a slow, soft kiss. His hand fell to her knee, giving it a gentle squeeze as he deepened the kiss. Pulling away, his smile grew even bigger. “Now your dad is really going to hate me.”

Penelope laughed, shaking her head.

---

A few minutes before Jonathan Toews and Adam Burish went on television, calling game five of the Western finals, Penelope snuck into the booth, waving shyly at all the people around. “Dad, can I tell you something really quick?”

“Of course, Nelly,” he smiled, not noticing the look his daughter shared with his broadcast partner, who gave her a discreet ‘thumbs up.’ “What’s up?” he asked, placing his hands on his knees as his dark brown eyes gave his daughter a soft look.

“When I out to lunch with Jamie today, we talked…” she started, watching her father’s face carefully. “And we talked about how we feel about each other and how quickly we fell for each other, too.” Jonathan raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips together. “And me and Jamie are together,” she finished. When her dad stayed silent, she added, “He’s my boyfriend, dad.”

Adam laughed from beside the former captain, his blue eyes shining with amusement as he looked between the father and daughter. “Congrats, Nelly,” he told her giving her a wink, although he already knew, hearing it from the young woman a few hours before. He nudged his former teammate and current broadcast partner and friend, and he laughed when the Canadian snapped from his daze and put a hand on his forehead, rubbing against his temples.

“Nelly, I—” he started, as one of the cameramen cut him off, announcing it was thirty seconds until air time.

“Just tell me you’re happy for me, dad,” Penelope urged.

Jonathan hesitated, but nodded his head. “I’m happy for you, Nelly. We’ll talk about this later.”

Grinning, the young woman kissed her dad’s cheek before giving the same to Adam, quickly skipping out of the room and heading back to the box where Eric sat waiting for her. “Did you tell him?” he asked excitedly. Penelope rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Was he mad?” He was hopeful.

“No,” she laughed, shoving her best friend lightly. “He was surprised and he definitely wasn’t thrilled, but he wasn’t mad.”

“Damn.”

The game was a blowout, much like the last three had been. Despite winning game one, the Canucks stood no chance against the young, hungry Blackhawks. After three periods and five goals against, the Canadian team had been eliminated from the playoffs and the Blackhawks were moving on to the Stanley Cup Final. Penelope and Eric raced down the locker room, sure their dad’s hadn’t even left the broadcast booth yet, but neither cared. Eric wanted to see (and be a part of) the celebration. Penelope wanted to see Jamie, who had notched two goals that night.

She pushed past the media, who still hadn’t been allowed in yet, and went straight to Jamie’s locker. Already the guys were celebrating, a couple of bottles of champagne spraying around the room. “Save it for the final!” she yelled, laughing as she was doused in the alcoholic drink.

Jamie’s eyes snapped up at the sound of her voice, and he jumped up to greet her, easily lifting her into his arms and he pressed a kiss to her lips. The room hooted and hollered. Jamie Bennett, the young Chicago Blackhawk who drew comparisons to Jonathan Toews, had landed his daughter.

---

A few mornings later, the sun was shining brightly and the weather was warm. Penelope had woken up early despite staying up late with Jamie and the rest of the Blackhawks the night before. Jonathan was surprised to see his daughter dressed and showered when she walked into the kitchen at just past nine AM. “You hungry?” She shook her head, simply grabbing herself a glass of orange juice. “Something wrong?”

“Can you tell me more? About you and mom?”

“What happened after I got her back?” Penelope nodded, a grin stretching across her face. “I barely let her out of my sight after that,” he laughed, shaking his head. “She came back to Chicago with me, we went back to how things had been, but now we were real. We were defined. She loved me, and I loved her. I asked her to marry me only a week later.”

“A week?” Penelope’s eyes widened. “A week after you brought her back home, you proposed?”

“You sound surprised! I bought the ring a month after knowing her, Nel. I just knew.” The young woman felt tears spring to her eyes at her dad’s words, and she tried to push them away. “We were married that summer, just a few months later. Her grandma had grown healthy enough to come; it made Delia the happiest woman in the world. We got married at Lake Michigan; right there at the same beach we had met at.

“Two years later, you came along. We were over the moon. I was so happy your mom actually convinced me to leave downtown, move out here. I would have done anything she wanted me to do. She gave me the most precious thing I could have ever asked for.”

Penelope couldn’t stop the tears now. Her dad smiled, the emotion getting to him too. He wrapped an arm around Penelope’s shoulders, pulling her in close. “It’s not fair she couldn’t stay, dad. I know how much you loved her… love her,” she corrected herself. “I’m sorry for trying to get you to date again; I guess I just didn’t know…”

“It’s okay, Nelly. No one else could ever compare to your mother. You’re all I need, anyway.”

“Can we,” she started, hesitating. “Can we go see her? I haven’t in years…”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jonathan nodded and stood from the kitchen table, grabbing his daughter’s hand and walking out to his car. The ride there was silent, neither knew what to say, he guessed. It was only a couple of minutes before Jonathan pulled the car onto the gravel covered road and another minute before he slowed to a stop.

He grabbed Penelope’s hand again as they walked up the grass covered hill until they stopped just in front of an old tree, pink flowers blooming on its full branches. Tears came fast and hard as Penelope kneeled down on the grass, her hand reaching in front of her to run her fingers along the marble headstone, her mother’s name engraved on it.

Delia Toews
A loving mother and wife
June 10th 1992 – September 15th 2017

Penelope threw herself onto her dad, wrapping her arms tightly around him as he read the words again, probably for the thousandth time. He shut his eyes tightly as the tears fell. “It’s not fair!” she screamed against his chest. “You only had her for four years before she was taken away from you! I was only a year old!”

“I know, Nelly,” he whispered against her hair, running his hands soothingly against her back.

He couldn’t help but think back to the night his Delia had died. She had been rushing home from her work, volunteering at a Chicago area hospital. Jonathan had called her a few minutes before; Penelope was upset because of the terrible storm and wouldn’t stop crying. With every thunder clap, the baby wailed louder. He had been pacing the foyer of their suburban home, expecting Delia any minute to come through the door and sooth their daughter to sleep.

Instead, he got a phone call. There had been a bad accident, and his wife was being taken to the hospital she had just left minutes before. With shaky hands, he packed up his daughter and rushed to the hospital. The second they arrived, a nurse grabbed Penelope from his arms as a doctor asked him to have a seat.

He’d lost her.

As Penelope’s tears subsided, she looked up into her dad’s brown eyes and he gave her a sad smile. She nodded her head, tucking her blond curls behind her ears. “I just miss her. I didn’t even know her, but I miss her.”

“Nelly,” Jonathan sighed, using a thumb to wipe his daughter’s tears. “You are her, and don’t you ever forget it.”

She smiled as best she could, using the sleeves of her long sleeve tee shirt to wipe at her eyes. She took a few deep breaths as her and her father sat together in the quiet, peaceful cemetery, their eyes on the headstone in front of them. Penelope broke the silence a few minutes later.

“Jamie said he wanted to come here with me,” she told her dad, smiling as she thought of her sweet boyfriend. Jonathan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He says he’d like to meet her, because he knows how important she is to me.” Jonathan nodded, relief flooding into his body as he thought of the young hockey player. Maybe he wasn’t so bad, after all.

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“After they win the Cup, I’ll bring him,” she said. “You know they’re going to do it.”

“They are,” Jonathan smiled. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Are you sure that’s not just arthritis?” the woman sassed, sticking a tongue out at her father, who scoffed. “I’m kidding.”

“It feels the same way it did twenty five years ago, when I won it for the first time. Jamie’s got a lot of these moments ahead of him, just like I did.”

Penelope grinned, tucking her head against her dad’s side as he wrapped an arm around her. “I love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She felt him kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, too.”