Come As You Are

The Penguins logo stared down at Max accusingly from it’s place on the office’s wall. Max sunk back in his chair; for all he knew, it’d be the last time he’d be seeing it.

“How public should we make this?” Shero was the first to break the suffocating silence. Dan sat in a chair not far from him, a hand pressed to his lips. Both of their faces were etched with grim shock.

Max felt his eyebrows raise. Not at all, if that were possible. But with his status on the team, he owed his fans an explanation, even if that explanation was a complete lie. He couldn’t just up and leave without a backward glance.

“I’d like to keep it quiet,” Max said stiffly, taking a second to clear his throat. “Just say-” He paused, trying to find the right words. “Just say I was looking for something more long-term. Job security. Something like that.” He shrugged.

He hated saying it, because it made Shero look like he wasn’t willing to do what he could to keep Max here in Pittsburgh, here with his team and his friends and the fans he loved so much. It made him feel selfish. But if anything, this was the least-selfish decision he’d ever made.

Shero made a face that showed he was considering Max’s idea. “We’ll keep it vague,” he agreed, still not meeting Max’s eyes.

The room went dead again for a second before Dan finally spoke up. “Have you, uh…have you contacted-” he snapped his fingers in the air as if trying to come up with a name, “Have you contacted Philly yet?”

Max’s nod was reluctant. There’s some words he never thought he’d hear, let alone agree to. “My agent’s trying to set up a deal with them right now,” he said quietly, putting a hand down to stop his bouncing knee. A sick feeling settled in his stomach - he’d felt it long before he’d arrived for the meeting - but that feeling suddenly intensified. His stomach wrenched painfully and he had to focus on not throwing up.

Dan nodded. “We’ll miss you, Max,” he said sincerely. The only times Max had heard Dan this serious was right before a big game. “You’ve done good things here.”

Max blinked. “It’s been a great few years here,” he said as some sort of closing statement. “I’ll miss it a lot.”

He sat back in his chair and reanalyzed what he had just said. That was it - his time here was over. What felt like it was impossible was now behind him, though it hadn’t gone down easily. But he gulped back that sense of relief - this was far from done with.

The hard part had only just began.

---

Max Talbot signs with Flyers for five years, $9 Million

Whitney sat back in her chair, the dim screen of her 5-year-old Dell glowing back at her. Beth had gone to sleep forty minutes prior, and she’d slipped in a shower before turning to the internet. She promised herself she’d only check emails, which became browsing Facebook, which quickly turned into typing a very controversial name into her search bar.

“No way,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her lips as her eyes skimmed the article she’d found. Happy was the wrong word for what she felt. Amazement, maybe, since he’d single-handedly fixed their distance problem. Mostly shock, though. Maybe even a little guilt. Something bothered Whitney about the thought that he’d left his team and his home in Pittsburgh for a child he’d only just found out was his. Or at least that’s what she’d instantly assumed. Could be a happy coincidence that he’d signed with the team playing for her town.

But then again what were the chances of that?

The wave of shock eventually wore off as she stared at her laptop’s screen. And a few moments after, what Whitney felt was relief. She didn’t have that impossible question of custody hanging over her head. One more weight lifted from her shoulders. Suddenly it seemed less stressful - easier, if she dared saying - the thought of Max living just across town rather way across the state. But part of her was still skeptical. Like she couldn’t quite trust that everything would suddenly be so much better. Maybe it really would be.

Whitney wasn’t about to get her hopes up.

---

Max felt the familiar rival chill rush through him as he stepped foot on enemy territory later that week. Get used to it, he told himself as he quickly realized this would be ‘home’ from now on.

Philadelphia.

He was only here for a few days before he flew back to Montreal for much of the off season. There was a short checklist alive in his mind that needed some attention before he could fully relax into his summer vacation. One, a short meeting with a few big names from the Flyers organization. A few papers that needed signing before pre-season fired back up. And there’d been something mentioned about an off-season workout regimen. May as well take care of it now.

Second had been house hunting. He’d had his agent call some realtors in the area for some listings similar to his house back in the Southside, which was currently being boxed up and sent cross-state. Max hadn’t seen any of their picks in person yet, but just from the impressive pictures he’d been emailed, he could tell the realtors had done their job well.

His third and final task brought him to Western Philadelphia on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. He could tell he was somewhere near the university, but he couldn’t be exact on his location. Across from him stood a small apartment building - not exactly shabby, yet not exactly something he could see himself living in. Max fingered the post-it in his pocket, pulling it out to double-check the address he’d scrawled on it earlier that day. He’d been right - this was the place. He unhinged his sunglasses from the collar of his shirt and slid them onto the bridge of his nose as he briskly crossed the street.

Apartment 27 was located on the second floor. It was quiet, with plain white walls and casual blue carpeting. Somewhere further down the hall he could make out the sound of a child throwing a tantrum. He cleared his throat as he rapped his fist against the door.

There was silence, and then shuffling from somewhere beyond the metal “27” nailed to the door. Max could see the shadows of feet move from beneath the door’s crack just before it opened.

“Max.” She addressed him rather than questioned why he was here. Like she’d been ready for a casual drop-by all week. “Hi.”

Max took a second to analyze Whitney. Her hair was thrown in one of those I’m-too-busy-to-care buns he always saw those girls at the supermarket wearing. She had an oversize University of Pennsylvania sweatshirt swallowing her upper half while black leggings hugged her lower half. The mismatched socks were what really made the outfit, though. Though considering her relaxed state, Whitney was a pretty girl. Neat, angular face. Sparkly blue eyes. He could see how he’d gotten himself into this situation with her in the first place.

“Hi,” he said back finally. He slipped his sunglasses back onto the collar of his shirt, realizing how pointless it had been to put them on in the first place. “Can I come in?”

She nodded before she answered, “Yeah.” He could tell he’d caught her slightly off guard and that he made her nervous - her voice was weak and she wouldn’t make eye contact. But she stepped back to let him in nonetheless, closing and locking the door behind him.

The apartment’s interior was a lot like its exterior. Bland, white, nothing too special about it. The space was cramped but clean. He could tell Whitney must have worked hard to keep it as baby-proof as possible. But despite Max’s utter lack of knowledge for parenting, even he could tell a match-box size apartment like this wouldn’t pass for raising a baby.

“How’ve you been doing?”

Max jumped, not realizing Whitney had come up beside him. Her arms were crossed over her chest defensively, but at least now she was looking him in the eye. Max shrugged. “Still in shock,” he said honestly, wanting to say more but holding his tongue. This was not the place nor the person to vent to, even if she knew exactly how he felt. “How about you?”

She shrugged, too. “Coming out of shock,” she countered, the ghost of a smile tracing her lips. “But I’ve had nine months to prepare.”

Max suddenly felt the need to sit down. Why had he come here again? His mind was hazy and wouldn’t answer. “Where’s Beth?” he managed.

She nodded toward a half-closed door. “Napping,” she told him. “I guess babies like to sleep a lot.”

He was struck by how naïve they both were in this situation. “Oh,” he said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. Talk, his brain ordered, though he had no clue what to talk about. Really, his main motive for coming here had been to see Beth. “Things been going alright?” he tried.

“They’ve been better,” she shrugged, taking a seat at the weathered kitchen table. In the mid-afternoon light, Max could see what a toll this had taken on Whitney. Her face looked tired and worn. He wondered if that’d be him in a short few months, too. “Heard you signed with the Flyers,” she said, breaking through his thoughts. “Is that why you’re in Philly?”

He sat, too. “Yeah,” he nodded, wondering how she knew he’d signed here. He didn’t ask, though he had a good idea of the answer. News spread like wildfire in the sports media world. “Thought I’d drop by while I was in town, see how things were going.”

Her eyebrows raised, as if she were humored by the idea of him acting like a responsible adult. He could tell she was doubtful about his role in this, doubtful that he’d stick around long. He didn’t blame her. They were a one night stand once upon a time - neither of them had spoken since that night, not until the consequences caught up with them. There was no reason she should trust him - she didn’t even know him.

“How long are you in town?” she asked, tracing an invisible pattern in the table with her finger.

“Until tomorrow. Then I fly back to Montreal for the offseason.” He watched her, waiting for a response. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “I’ll be back in town quite a bit before the season fires back up.”

She nodded. “So we’ll be seeing more of you?”

We’ll. Her and Beth. Something about her use of words struck an uncomfortable chord with him. Like they’d be depending on his next visits. “Plan on it,” Max answered, hoping his uneasiness didn’t show on his face. He stood from his chair and pulled his keys from his pocket. Better not stay long - he wanted to fit in a few house tours before he left the next day.

She stood, too, to see him to the door. “Have a good offseason,” she bade him, “I’ll keep you posted if anything happens.”

He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but it comforted him. Like even though he’d be gone a majority of Beth’s first few months, he’d still have knowledge - maybe even some control - over what went on. “Thanks,” he said, offering Whitney a smile as he headed for the door. His eyes did one last sweep over the small apartment as he crossed the threshold.

He had a feeling he’d be hunting for more houses than just his own. But he didn’t let Whitney know that as the door fell shut behind him.