Whatever It Takes

I’m nervous as I pace back and forth in one of the rooms in the basement of St. Agnes Church. My boys are messing around in my peripheral vision and I send up a silent prayer that their tuxes will remain intact until at least the ceremony is over. I look down at the corsage, a mixture of daisies and pink roses, on the left pocket of my jacket, and it finally starts to sink in. I’m getting married again.

After the nasty and unexpected divorce I went through with Sylvie nearly five years ago, I never expected to find love again. In fact, I had pretty much decided I never wanted to get married again. I didn’t want to do it all again if there was a chance the end result could wind up tearing me apart again. Going through a divorce was something I never dreamed I would put myself or my three kids through and it was not a mistake I wanted to repeat again.

But then I met Rosalyn. She was my youngest son’s fourth grade teacher. It was a year after the divorce and Cameron had been having some trouble concentrating at school, so she called Sylvie and me in for a meeting. By this point, Sylvie and I had come to a mutual understanding that we had to put our differences aside in order to co-parent successfully and give the boys what they deserved. It had been difficult and awkward at first, but we eventually became accustomed to being together for school functions, sporting events, and birthday parties. However, none of that prepared me to be in the same with my ex-wife and a woman I found extremely attractive.

The first thing I noticed about her was her eyes. They were a piercing blue that drew you in right away. She also had a warm smile that made you feel like she was doing it especially for you. Her honey blonde hair reached just past her shoulders. I knew she had to be a few years younger than me, but not too young.

The meeting went well and she explained that Cameron seemed to lose focus when he had to look at the board for an extended period of time. Rosalyn, or Ms. Porter as she was to me back then, suggested we get his eyes examined to see if he needed glasses. Shortly after, Sylvie took him to the eye doctor and Cameron was prescribed glasses. His problems in the classroom were no longer an issue.

I saw Rosalyn a more times during the school year. Parent-teacher conferences, the Christmas program, and I’d even seen he a few of the Cameron’s extracurricular activities. She was always pleasant to me, but no more so than she was with all the other parents. I jokingly mentioned to Claude, who was living with us at the time, that Cameron’s teacher was hot. He told me I should I ask her out and I told him he was crazy. The thought had crossed my mind, but I knew most schools frowned upon parents and teachers dating.

Then a few months later, during a long home stand, Sylvie decided to visit her family back in Quebec. It happened to fall during an open house for the kids so I was stuck going to it on my own. I went to Caelan and Carson’s first, and Cameron’s last. When we got to the school, the crowd was starting to thin out and we basically got a one-on-one tour of Cameron’s classroom with Ms. Porter.

Cameron showed us around to the different stations they had in the room. He pointed out some of the drawings he had made in class, and he proudly showed off his desk. I took a peek inside to see how messy it was.

“Wow Cam. This looks better than your room at home,” I commented.

“Cameron is very well organized most of the time,” Ms. Porter said.

“I wish he did the same at home.”

“A lot of kids don’t share the same enthusiasm for organization at home as they do at school,” she smiled.

“Hey dad,” Cameron said. “Can I go show Caelan and Carson some of my stuff that’s on display from art down the hallway?”

I looked at the boys skeptically, knowing full well what kind of mischief they were capable of, especially together. “I suppose, but behave yourselves. I’ll meet you down there in just a few minutes.”

They scampered off and I was alone with Ms. Porter. There was a silent pause before either of us said anything.

I broke the ice. “I hope Cameron isn’t giving you too much trouble anymore.”

She was sitting down on one of the desks turned towards me. She gave me another genuine smile. “He’s been doing great. I really think the glasses were the whole issue. Cameron is truly a pleasure to have in the classroom. You should be proud.”

I returned her smile. “Thank you. He’s a great kid. All three of them are. They’re just a handful sometimes.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure they can be. My sister has two girls and a boy all under the age of six. I don’t know how she does it.”

“You’ve got your hands full with, what, twenty or so students. I don’t know how you do it.”

A slight blush crept up her cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Briere. It’s definitely a challenge, but I love my job. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

I looked around the room and realize there are several chairs that need to be put away. “Do you need some help cleaning up? I’m sure the boys will be fine down there for a few more minutes.”

“Sure, that would be great.”

Rosalyn and I pick up things around the room and I find myself wanting to know more about her. She’s beautiful, but she also seemed to have a kind and gentle soul, something hockey players don’t often come in contact with. I didn’t know how to do it without being awkward, but asking her out was on the tip of my tongue.

“Thanks for helping me out, Mr. Briere. It would have taken me a lot longer on my own.”

“Please, call me Danny.”

“In that case, I think it would be ok for you to call me Rosalyn,” she smiled.

I ran my fingers through my hair nervously and cleared my throat. This was a big step for me. I’d only been out on maybe two or three dates since the divorce, and they were all set up by the wives and girlfriends of my teammates. Me actively wanting to pursue someone was brand new territory.

“I know this is probably a no-no, and I don’t expect anything from you, but would you be interested in going out sometime. Maybe grab a coffee or something,” I said.

Rosalyn’s eyes widened a bit in surprise and another blush appeared on her pretty face. “Mr. Briere, Danny, I…I’ve made it a policy not to date any of my student’s parents and it’s one I’ve never broken.” I instantly felt crestfallen and foolish. “But,” she continued. “That doesn’t mean I haven’t been tempted in the past and I’m not tempted now.” I felt a little more confidence. “That being said, I won’t break the rule for you, but there’s only a few more months left of the school year, and if you ask me once Cameron is no longer my student, the answer might be different,” she finished, with a challenging look in her eyes.

“So you’re not exactly saying no forever, just no for now?”

“Exactly.”

I stared at her for a moment, wondering if it was worth it to put myself out there again. Then she gave me another one of her smiles. “Challenge accepted, Rosalyn.”

I left the classroom after to round up the boys. I felt a boost in confidence knowing Rosalyn seemed to be interested in me on some level. I took the kids out for ice cream and I even let myself indulge in a banana split.

The months seemed to go by painfully slow for me. I had to see Rosalyn several more times. Things weren’t awkward between us, but it was hard to hide the attraction I felt for her, especially when Sylvie was around. Finally, the end of the school year rolled around. We’d been eliminated from the playoffs early, so I volunteered to take Cameron to get his report card.

Cameron had Ms. Porter sign his yearbook and gave her a hug. I gave her a note that said “Can I have that date now?” and also had my number on it. I knew I was taking a risk, leaving it up to her to call me, but I had to know she was really interested in me. She tried to hide her grin as she read the note. I gave her a look that said I was serious.

“The ball’s in your court,” was all I said before we left the classroom.

Exactly one week later I received a call for Rosalyn and our first date was the following Saturday. I took her to a seafood place in Philly I’d been to a couple of times with some of my teammates. To my surprise, conversation was easy with Rosalyn. She told me about her childhood in rural Pennsylvania and her desire to become a teacher. She also told me she was a hockey fan and knew who I was, which surprised me. She’d never given any indication before that she knew.

I also found out she was twenty-seven and had never been married. It was a six year age difference, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. It would have felt like a million years to me just a few years ago, but it didn’t seem to faze me now. Rosalyn was mature for her age and she seemed to know what she wanted out of life.

She agreed to go on a second date with me, which turned into another, which turned into another. Soon, it appeared as if we were dating. I kissed her on our fourth date and that’s when I knew she was different than Sylvie.

I introduced her to the boys a month and half into our relationship. Cameron was thrilled to see her again, and she got along amazingly well with the other two. The boys begged me to invite her to come with us for our two week trip to Quebec to visit my family. I thought it was too early, but I asked anyway and she accepted. My parents loved her and so did my sister. I warned them it was a new relationship, but somehow I think my mom knew Rosalyn was special.

We dated for a year and never once did I ask her to move in with me or ask too much of her. I’d made those mistakes in the past and I didn’t want to repeat them. During the All Star Break in 2013, just shy a few months of our two year anniversary, I asked her to marry me on a beach in Miami. She said yes and I was the happiest man alive. I don’t think we slept a wink that night.

Exactly one year and six months have passed since we became engaged. In some ways it feels like it’s been a long process, and in others, it feels like the time has flown. I never thought I’d get remarried, especially this quickly, but I’m absolutely ready to make this commitment to Rosalyn.

“Danny, I think it’s about time,” Claude says, breaking me from my thoughts. I didn’t even hear him come into the room.

I look at him, dressed in a tux similar to mine, with his mop of ginger hair looking somewhat behaved, and a grin on his face. “Did you give it to her?”

His grin widens and he nods. “I left before she read the note and opened the present, but I got a good look at her. You’re a lucky man, mon ami.”

I smile. “You don’t have to tell me that, G. I know it every time I see her.”

“I’m happy for you, Danny. You deserve this and you deserve her.”

I shake my head in amazement. Sometimes I wonder if I really do deserve to be this happy. What I do know is that no one else has ever made me feel this good and complete.

I cannot wait to make Rosalyn Porter my wife.