Northern Wind

The game was at eight, and I was getting more nervous every second. It was just past one and I was sitting in my room alone with the heat cranked up. We had arrived at the hotel about about thirty minutes ago and I had no idea what to do with myself after I shed my layers of clothes, leaving me in just a cardigan and jeans. Lunch had been served on the plane but I didn't eat. My stomach was in knots then and it still was as I held the sandwich from the plane in one hand contemplating if I should try and eat or not.

Before I had time to think more about eating there was a knock on my door. I left the sandwich on the table beside the TV and went to answer it. My green eyes peered into the peephole and I was pleasantly surprised to see Jonathan and Patrick Kane standing in the hall. Pat had a devilish smile on his face and Jon's expression was unamused. I assumed it was something Pat had said that had Jon looking that way.

Patrick Kane was my definition of a charmer. He had a deviously infectious smile that made me think that there was always an ulterior motive to almost everything that he did. Earlier today when the Blackhawks team and myself exited the plane and onto the black tarmac outside the Edmonton International Airport, Patrick basically made a b-line in my direction with his hand outstretched and a million dollar smile on his face. He and I chatted as we waited for our luggage together and when I went to reach for mine Patrick beat me too it and flashed me another smile and walked off with my bags, swinging them over his shoulder and hitting Jon as he did so.

“Stella ella ola!” Pat's face lit up as I opened the door. Jon shot him a look that I didn't quite catch before he turned to me.

“Hey, we're heading to the arena now for a quick practice. You're welcome to come,” he said. “Might be a good time for us to teach you the rules and some tip and stuff like that.”

“Yes, that would be fantastic,” I replied, the motioned for them to come in for a moment. “Come in, I just have to change and grab my camera.”

I let them in and then walked briskly over to my bag filled with t-shirts, sweaters and jackets. It took me a few seconds but I finally grabbed ones that I was satisfied would look appropriate and keep me warm since this time we were going into the arena. I grabbed a different pair of pants as well just because air travel made me feel gross and if I couldn't shower, at least my clothes could be perfectly fresh.

“Dude. She's so skinny,” Pat's voice cascaded through the bathroom door . “Thought she had a little more meat on her bones but I guess they're just clothes?”

I looked in the mirror at myself. My black bra and panties made my skin look a lot paler. I turned sideways and examined my protruding ribs. A year and a half ago I wouldn't have been able to see them like that. It just shows that Carine's death didn't just put emotional hold on me, the harm was physical too.

“She's got a disease or something,” Jon said. “She's allergic to the cold and wears a lot of layers.”

It made me smile that he remembered what I said, even though I told him that this morning. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and decided that I should probably get going before the bus left without us.

Coming out of the bathroom I saw Jon and Pat sitting on my bed quietly playing with their phones. Jon was closest to my equipment bag.

“Jon, can you grab the grey messenger bag behind you?” I asked pointing to it. “And be careful please?”

He looked up at me and then his eyes locked on mine for a second then he quickly turned around and grabbed my bag up and threw it cautiously over his shoulder. Pat stood up and walked past me to open the door.

“After you, Mademoiselle.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, smiling as I walked by.

Jon lead the way, my messenger bag filled with my three different lenses and two of my cameras were hanging over his shoulder. Usually I would object if anyone carried my equipment, but I trusted that Jon wouldn't drop it or hit it off anything. I needed everything intact, this wasn't just a practice for the players, it was a practice for me as well. I needed to know what lenses worked best, what settings and where I was supposed to sit to take these photos.

There was a lot of chatter in the elevator. Two other Blackhawks who I could not remember the names of were talking to Jon and Patrick. They glanced at me often and it made me feel a little uncomfortable. I just grabbed my cell phone out of my pocket and brushed a hand slowly though my hair as I looked at the two messages I had, both from Trav.

As we were approaching the bus it was like I became a fifth grader again, not wanting to sit alone on the bus and be laughed at. But it didn't matter really, I could sit alone. It didn't matter. But before I could ponder any more on that thought Jonathan spoke.

“Can you show me your camera?” He asked, taking a seat with my bag resting in his lap. The request took me by surprise but I obliged and sat down beside him.

I opened the bag and took out one of the two cameras that I had and handed it to him. He took it so delicately that it was almost as if the camera was newborn child. I had to smile at him as he basically cradled it.

“In here I have two cameras and three lenses,” I said, pulling out one of the lenses. “This one is great for wide angles.”

He looked so absorbed in what I was saying as I explained what each of the lenses were for and how each of my cameras had slightly different features that would make the greatest quality photo.

“I honestly figured it was just point and shoot,” He admitted to me after I put the equipment back in my bag.

“A photo is a photo,” I said shrugging. “It's just when you want to make a living at it, there is more effort that needs to be put into it to make it great.”

“What made you get into photography?”

“My sister bought me a camera for our twelfth birthday and I've been doing it every since.”

That thought came out of my mouth too quickly. It would have been a typical response to that question if Carine was still alive. The second I said it I wanted to take it back. It was true, Carine had saved all her pennies and dimes for me for two years to get me that gift. But catching myself saying the word sister out loud so casually made me sick to my stomach.

“You have a sister?”

I had a sister.

“When did you decide you wanted to be a hockey player?” I asked, changing the subject and fiddling with my sweater nervously. Jon gave me a weird look, but he answered my question anyway.

“Umm... I guess I always kind of knew. Like my parents got me into hockey really young and I loved it.” He explained. “I still do of course.”

I didn't know what to say to him. Hockey wasn't something that I knew much about and I was so afraid to say something wrong and he would get offended. I heard movement from behind me and then a hand on my shoulder. Turning around I saw the bright and smiling face of Patrick Kane who before had been sitting a few rows behind Jon and I. Now he had taken the empty seat beside me on the other side of the isle.

“A little birdy told me you don't know how to play hockey.”

My face immediately started to turn red in embarrassment. Not only was it awkward that I didn't know how the game worked, due to the volume he said it at everyone else knew now as well. There were a few obnoxious outbursts from a few people around me which I realized were just to poke fun. But they still made me blush more.

“No need to be embarrassed Stella,” He said, patting me on the shoulder. “What better way to learn than from the best?”

“Yeah right.” Jonathan laughed. A few other people around who had heard laughed along with him. Patrick didn't look disheartened.

“Well I did score the winning goal in cup finals so...”

“You really don't want to play this game with me Kaner,” Jon said to him. I glanced back and forth between the two men and both had playful smiles on their faces. “We all know you're just trying to impress her.”

“Is it working?” He winked at me. If I blushed even more I felt like my head would explode. As if my situation couldn’t get worse, my cell phone started ringing Travis’s awful Usher anthem. I could tell that Patrick and Jon were trying not to laugh as I grew redder and struggled to get my cell out of my pocket.

“What?” I said into the phone more harshly than I would have normally.

“Well someone’s in a great mood,” Travis chimed in sarcastically from the other line. “Should I not ask how your trip is going?”

“No,” I sighed, and covered my face with my hand. “Hold on a second.”

Patrick’s cry of protest didn’t stop me from pushing past him and up two rows in the bus to where there were two empty seats and where the perimeter around them was slightly less noisy.

“Where are you right now?” He asked me.

“On a bus,” I said. “We’re going to the arena for a practice before the game.”

“I’m going to be watching for you, just so you know.”

“Oh, please don’t. It’s probably going to be a disaster.”

“The game, or your first night on the job?” Travis laughed. I didn’t find it funny.

“Maybe both, I have no idea… like none, absolutely no clue.” As I ranted I knew Viktor Stalberg in front of me was listening in. It was the way that his head turned so I could see his ear from between the seats.

“Hey now, don’t doubt yourself,” he said sternly. “I know everything hasn’t been going smoothly for you lately, and you’ve been doubting and questioning a lot of things in your life...”

“Trav–”

“But you can do this job. You can be successful and happy. I want that for you and I sure as hell know Carine would want it too. Don’t punish yourself, please Stella. You deserve so much more than what you give yourself credit for.”

“Stop,” I found myself saying to him. “This isn’t the time or place to talk about what she would have wanted, or what I deserve… I can’t…”

Travis didn’t say anything. He realized he had upset me by talking about her. Talking on the phone with a bus full of strangers around me wasn’t good timing for any conversation involving Carine. I didn’t even know if there was a good time for talking about her, but I sure as hell knew Travis was going to find it and pounce and I dreaded that day.

“I’m sorry,” He told me quietly.

“I’ll talk to you tonight,” I tried to say it with as much control as I could. My voice was starting to waver.

“Ok.”

I hung up the phone and stuffed it back in my jacket pocket and then took a deep breath. My eyes were watering. The mere mention of Carine was enough to force me to tear up. Then having Travis try to make me feel better was almost an overload. It seemed like he was the only one who didn’t blame me for her death. I blamed me, and he never did. But sometimes I couldn’t help but think he was just saying it because he was my friend, not because he meant it.

“Stella? Are you alright?” Viktor asked quietly from in front of me.

“Fine,” I said giving him as normal a smile as I could muster. “I’m fine."