Second City.

Patrick Kane opened the heavy door of Jonathan’s Michigan Avenue condo with a bacon strip hanging out the side of his mouth, a mimosa in hand. He stepped away briefly allowing Bristol and Dan to enter. She welcomed him with two kisses to either cheek and shoved the laundry basket containing his clothes into his hands. The scents swirling around the room were heavenly to Bristol’s nose. Dan and Pat exchanged a friendly man hug—the one where they grabbed hands and patted each other on the back. After a long talking to, Bristol had to use physical violence in order to get Patrick to come around to Dan. It worked; their “friendship” was slowly getting better although it was more of Dan’s doing.

“Holy shit,” setting down his glass, Adam Burish opened his arms looking for the same welcome Patrick had gotten. “At first I didn’t believe this shithead when he told me you were knocked up but, clearly you are.” Cocking her head to look at Patrick, the small forward could only shrug his shoulders as he then tried to blend in with the crowd. Pulling her in close and tight, Adam rubbed his hand along the center of her back; going back to the memory of the feeling of her bare skin against the calloused pads of large hands. It seemed like centuries ago—the last time they were together.

“Adam, how’ve you been?” They stood in the awkward stance of a hug for seconds longer than Bristol would have liked to. She could feel the heated eyes of Daniel begin to burn holes in the back of her navy sweatshirt. Pushing Adam away, Bristol folded her arms over her chest, standing gawkily between the two men.

“I’ve been good; got a new girl in Dallas.” Touching her shoulder, then playfully punching Dan on the shoulder, Adam’s expression softened. “Congrats on the marriage; she’s a feisty one, isn’t she?”

Bristol could see the fire pooling in dark eyes of Dan. He was getting pissed, slowly as each second passed by. Watching as Adam Burish touched his wife, the love of his life, the mother of his child, sent chilling shocks of jealousy up his spine. He could tell something had gone on between the two—something more than he could probably measure up to. From the looks of it, not even Daniel Briere had a shot against the former Blackhawk swinger. Shooting Dan a look, her eyes softened, telling him to relax and calm down. For his own sake—and hers—Dan did just that.

“Thanks. And, yeah; she is.” Grabbing Dan’s hand, Bristol excused the two of them and headed into the kitchen where Jonathan was playing host. Sitting at the dining room table was Dave Bolland, Seabrook and Keith. All of whom had their significant others close to their sides. Brent’s girlfriend, Danielle, was the first to spot Bristol. None of the other girlfriends/wives had the chance to see the big-bellied Bristol yet. Jumping up from her chair, the long haired brunette embraced Bristol into a hug, spewing nothing but compliments about gorgeous she looked. Bristol begged to differ.

She felt comfortable leaving Dan in the presence of Bryan Bickell—the two were linemates and roomies on the road. Slipping away she found Jonathan in the kitchen with Hossa as the Slovak pushes him away from the stove. Standing in the entry still going unnoticed, Bristol watched as Marian showed Jon as how you correctly cook a pancake.

Placing a hand on her hip, Bristol leaned against the counter interrupting the men in a joking manner. “You know I can’t resist a man who knows his way around the kitchen.”

Marian and Jonathan turned around, smiling humorously as the light haired man held a spatula in his right hand. He dropped the kitchen appliance before pulling her in—after placing a hand on her belly. With his wife being on the verge of giving birth herself, Jana was Bristol’s current confidant, giving her tips and advice on what to expect. “You’re getting big.” He said as a straight, white smile crept from behind his lips.

“Don’t start, Hoss.” Bristol warned. She could hear Jonathan snickering as he turned around to start cracking eggs. Marian turned around instantly watching Jon closely to be sure no shells made it in to the bowl. Spotting Patrick standing aloof staring out of the large front room window onto the Skyline, Bristol took this as her one and only chance to get him alone. She didn’t want to embarrass him; just rip him a new asshole. Gliding across the kitchen, Bristol stopped beside Pat and looked out in the same direction as him. The sun was fresh in the sky; almost too early to be out of bed even though the clock read fifteen after ten. Most of the guys hadn’t even dropped in to their beds until sometime after two in the morning and it surprised her they were so chipper so early.

He made a simple comment about the weather; it would be a fairly nice October day. Not giving in to his bull shit, Bristol waited a few seconds, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had a close eye on the pair. Lifting her hand to scratch her scalp, Bristol reached out and grabbed painfully a hold of the top portion of his ear. Trying to mask his pain, Patrick grunted lowly as Bristol dragged him in to the first available bedroom. It just so happened to be Jon’s and once they were locked inside Pat made sure he blocked her path from the sticks lining the back wall.

“Okay listen, I can explain,” Patrick suddenly saw his life flash before his eyes. The sight of an extremely pissed Bristol wasn’t exactly pleasant. Holding his hands up in defense, she actually found it rather funny watching Patrick squirm and quiver. “I told him you were gonna be here with Dan and he still insisted on coming even though I told…”

“Next time warn me before bringing him around.” Deciding she had scared him enough, Bristol turned on the heels of her flats and reached for the door handle. “Good luck tonight.” She walked right into Dan upon exiting the room. He looked down on her—his eyes much softer than they had been ten minutes prior.

“You okay?”

Bristol nodded her head only answering with a ‘mhmm’. He placed his hand on the small of her back, enjoying the feeling of having her close. Jon and Marian finished cooking the masterpiece of a breakfast and brought to the dining room table as everyone scrambled to claim a seat. Having to take a minute to collect himself in Jon’s room, he was stuck sitting next to Bristol. The plates piled of high of eggs, hash browns and buttered slices of toast were passed around in the mix of friendly conversation. It was exactly how Bristol had remembered life was just two years back. It was simple, caring only of the next game and what bar to drink at later. Now, as she looked around, it a surreal moment. Watching as Duncan Keith whispered sweet compliments into his wife’s ear, making her giggle and blush. Bolland telling tales of the guys he played baseball with the Cubs fantasy camp and Sharp and Burish reminiscing on the pranks they pulled.

“Bristol,” hearing her name brought her back to reality. “Are you having a boy or girl?” Elena, Niklas’ girlfriend asked. Her voice thick with a Swedish accent.

She poured herself a glass of orange juice and licked syrup from her fingers. Dan’s hand rested lightly on her thigh. “Not sure; when I go in for my five month ultrasound in two weeks we’ll hopefully find out.”

“It’ll be a boy,” Patrick muttered only loud enough for Bristol to hear. “Briere only makes boys.”

Extending her leg, Bristol gave him a kick to the shin she had to hold herself back from knocking him out of his seat. She wasn’t mad at him per se, but rather her big mouth Italian sister. Patrick was smarter than people often gave him credit for; he was officially off the hook for not telling her about Adam.

•••

She was lost in her thoughts—drowning in them actually—as Bristol stood in front of the mirror blowing out her hair. Home openers were always her favorite; the atmosphere of the arena was that almost of a playoff game. Fans revved and ready to cheer loud for their team and excited for another successful year. Her original plans were head to arena with Adrienne, the two would sit the seats which she half owned—but since the little secret passed from Patrick’s lips which who about the two possible fathers, Bristol was far to pissed to even be in her presence. Instead, she would sit there alone.

The remote sat loosely in Dan’s hand as he sat in front of a blank television. He couldn’t shake Kane’s comment from his mind.

Briere only makes boys. Never before had he wished so hard for a girl.

At the sound of a knock at the door, he stood. Fixing the crotch of his pants and loosening the knot in his tie, Dan unhitched the bolt. He came face to face with an unfamiliar male. At a short and pudgy stature, he reminded Dan of the comedian Adam Ferrara. Eyeing the man up and down, his eyebrows furrowed as this man looked at the numbers plated on the door.

“Is Bristol here?” Dan tried to block his view as he peered into the condo. Already he didn’t like him; something seemed off.

“Who’s asking?”

He extended a hand to shake which Dan refused. Realizing this, he slipped them into the pockets of his khakis. “I’m David,” he cleared his throat. “Her ex-husband. And from the looks of it she was wrong when she said she had done better.”

Not sure what exactly had come over him, Dan suddenly felt an angry surge of mixed feelings come upon him. Grabbing the collar of David’s blue button up, Dan pushed him forward, slamming his back against the wall. “So you’re the infamous David who likes to beat up on women.” Raising his right fist, it felt good as his bare knuckles collided hard with David’s cheekbone. It was nicer hitting skin—rather than the plastic of a visor. In fact, it felt so good, Dan brought his fist down a few more times until he saw blood.

“Daniel!” Bristol squealed, rushing out in to the hall, trying her best to pull her husband off. Tears burned Bristol’s cheeks as they slid down, a feeling of fear washing over her as she pleaded. This wasn’t the same as when he would fight on the ice—that was out of fun and the feeling of being slightly pissed off. But this, this was pure anger and rage which she had no idea he was capable of producing. “Stop, please. Dan!” For the future, Bristol now knew it was her—and David’s—best interest to tell Dan he would coming over to drop Blackhawks tickets off.

Dropping his fists and standing up straight, Dan looked down at the heap of a man who sat on the floor wiping blood from his face. “You come here again, I’ll beat your ass until you’re lying in a fucking hospital bed,” Pressing Bristol back in the condo, Dan kicked the door closed with the bottom of his shoed foot. It was if he had blacked out—reality was a blur.

“What the fuck was that shit about?” Bristol screamed; her voice coated thick with tears.

Grabbing her shoulders, Dan pushed her against the wall, his fingers digging hard into the milky skin. She was shaking in fear, afraid as to what was to come next. His voice was dark and gravely; not that of the man Bristol had remembered loving. “I swear to all that is holy, Bristol, if that baby isn’t mine, we’re done. If I wanted to be with a whore I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me—I would have banged you and left without a word the first night we spent together. First Kris, then Adam, Danny and me. Face it, Bristol; you are nothing more than a puck bunny. A whore; and that’s all you’ll ever be.”

Letting go, Dan turned his back without a second glance and grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the couch. She had picked it up from the dry cleaners for him while he showered and prepared for the game. Bristol was scared—more shocked and in denial—to the point she couldn’t let the tears out which built painfully behind her sore eyes. She cringed as Dan slammed the door behind him, his last words cutting through her like a knife. I hope you enjoy your life with Danny. Sliding down the wall, Bristol brought her legs as close as she could to her chest. Staring at a scratch in the floor, Bristol cried her silent tears.