Retrouvailles

Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia and Philadelphia, Pennsylvania were roughly 1,000 miles apart. If you asked Loren Hamilton, she’d tell you the difference was in lightyears.

Sidney’s family seemed accommodating enough, although no one seemed entirely comfortable except Taylor. Loren may have been the main attraction but the youngest Crosby was definitely calling the shots, keeping her parents from turning lunch and dinner into an interrogation and sending a very obvious kick to her brother’s shin when he all but left his girlfriend to fend for herself. Loren assumed it came from years of deflecting questions about Sidney and focusing on her own accomplishments instead. Whatever the reason, Loren was thankful for it. She even invited Taylor to spend the night at Sidney’s, hoping it’d give them a chance to get to know one another away from everyone else. Trina and Troy may have raised Sidney and taught him how to navigate his fame, but Taylor knew his deepest, darkest secrets.

Even in Cole Harbour they tried to remain as normal as they could. Sidney took his girlfriend and sister to get ice cream after dinner and stopped at the closest Red Box to grab a movie. Loren tolerated his Friends marathons but they’d finished half the series while they were in Philadelphia and at this point she’d probably burn his collection at first sight.

The rest of the evening was spent in front of the television with a bowl of popcorn. They watched Loren’s favorite first, Casablanca, and then the Crosby siblings argued over what to watch next, ultimately deciding on Drive because the girls wanted to ogle over Ryan Gosling and Sidney was outnumbered. Not used to so much junk food, Sidney retired to bed halfway through with a stomachache. He told his sister it was good to see her and kissed his girlfriend on the top of the head, and then he was gone.

“Spill,” Taylor said as soon as her brother was out of earshot.

Loren felt like she was at a sleepover, giddy at the thought of staying up late and gossiping. Taylor even brought nail polish in case they wanted to do their nails. It felt like high school all over again.

“Spill what?”

“Everything you didn’t tell my parents.”

Loren blushed. “I don’t think you want to know any of that.”

“Well, no, not the gross stuff. You said you work for the Flyers, right?” Loren nodded, earning a smirk from Taylor. “How jealous is Captain Dipshit up there?”

“You have no idea. If Claude Giroux turns up missing, I might have an idea of who’s behind it.”

Taylor laughed loudly, throwing a handful of popcorn at her brother’s girlfriend. It was completely typical of Sidney to behave that way and it was somewhat reassuring to Taylor that certain aspects of his personality hadn’t changed just because someone was dumb enough to date him.

“Do your parents think you’re completely out of your mind?”

Loren squirmed. It made her uncomfortable to come out and say her mother had passed away — it felt too much like she was asking for sympathy — but it wasn’t like she could lie. The Crosbys would have to meet her family eventually and Loren’s mother couldn’t always be away on a business trip or somehow forget about her only daughter’s wedding.

“M-my dad hasn’t met him yet but he’s a Penguins fan, so…”

Taylor shoved some popcorn in her mouth. “What about your mom?”

“She’s, uh…she died.”

No one spoke for a long time. Taylor was embarrassed, to say the least, and didn’t know what to say. Was that why it’d been so hard for Loren to meet her mom? Loren, on the other hand, started picking at the microfiber of the couch, doing anything she could to avoid the looks she was getting from Sidney’s sister.

“You don’t have to feel bad, Taylor,” Loren said, sending her a small smile. “I was 11.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

Eleven years ago Loren would’ve said the same thing; how would she ever be able to live without her mother? But that was life. Even though it never got easier, she found a way to adjust.

“You find ways to cope. I have to find new ones everyday.”

“How, though?”

Loren shrugged. “I always have to remind myself that everything happens for a reason. I wasted my childhood being depressed; I didn’t want to graduate from high school or college or have my 30th birthday and realize I spent my entire life that way.”

Taylor was frustrated. “For what reason could this have possibly happened?”

“Going through bad shit puts a lot into perspective,” Loren explained. “It made me a better person — stronger, I guess. If it never would’ve happened, who knows where I’d be right now. I probably never would’ve applied for the job with the Pens because I’d be too scared of rejection. I definitely wouldn’t have the skin to deal with dating your holier-than-thou brother,” Loren joked, finally earning a smile from the girl across from her. “My dad always used to tell me that we always have a choice between being happy or letting life get us down. It took me a long time to finally decide what I wanted.”

Taylor was quiet, picking at her nail polish or staring at the menu screen of the movie still in the DVD player — anything to keep from catching Loren’s stare. She felt inferior all of a sudden. She’d never been through anything traumatic like that. She still had both of her parents, had a superstar brother, was a standout hockey player in her own rite. What’d she know about tragedy? But it made sense all of a sudden, Loren and Sidney. They balanced each other but were so alike in ways she was sure neither of them noticed.

“I think my brother’s the same way sometimes.”

“What do you mean?”

“His concussion,” Taylor clarified. “That was kind of his wake-up call. He’ll never admit it but he played it safe most of the time. He did what everyone expected of him rather than what he wanted. You were the first real risk he’s ever taken.”

Loren smiled despite herself. It was a breath of fresh air for someone else to confirm what she’d known all along. “I’m glad it was me.”

Taylor smiled too. “So am I.”



Loren couldn’t believe her eyes. Sidney’s idea of a “date” the following afternoon was a pair of Taylor’s old skates Trina had kept in the basement and a trip to the rink he’d grown up playing in. He decided it was time for Loren to get a real glimpse into the life of Sidney Crosby, and learning how to skate was the first step. She was about 22 years late to the party, but better late than never.

“This isn’t romantic, in case you were wondering.”

Sidney snorted. “Are you kidding? I called ahead and reserved the whole rink just for us.”

Loren bumped him with her shoulder, barely moving him an inch. “Stick to playing hockey, Casanova.”

The rink must’ve functioned part-time as a Sidney Crosby museum and Loren pretended to gag as soon as they stepped through the doors. There were banners and trophy cases everywhere, serving to remind her just where she was in case she’d forgotten. Replicas of both his and Taylor’s youth jerseys were framed and hanging everywhere as well as photos from workshops Sidney had done during the off-seasons. There was no doubt he was Nova Scotia’s pride and joy.

There were two rinks — Sidney drug her to the right. She’d been spoiled by her stint in Pittsburgh, unable to notice how small it was compared to CONSOL. It was still intimidating, though. The wet, clean ice practically asked for her health insurance information, confirming she’d be spending at least a few hours in the hospital with multiple broken bones, and knowing Sidney Crosby would be judging her ice skating abilities was less than comforting.

“You need help lacing those?”

“I think I can manage,” she retorted, wrapping the extra-long laces around her legs a few times to make them more manageable. “These are sharpened, right?” Sidney’s eyebrows shot upwards, impressed with his girlfriend’s hockey lingo. “Oh, come off it. I know some stuff.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Sidney cracked.

Loren stood on wobbly knees, absolutely sure she was about to meet her demise. She’d only gone ice skating once before when she was six. It’d been a particularly bitter winter in Erie (aren’t they all?) and her dad and uncle insisted on taking her to the lake down the street to skate. She was able to hold her own for a few seconds before she fell in a heap and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in her uncle’s pick-up.

“Ready?” Sid asked, holding out his hand. Naturally she swatted it away and took the ice on her own, holding the lip of the wall for balance. “I think I might be better at this than the wall, Lo.”

Loren rolled her eyes. “The wall doesn’t talk.”

He laughed before taking off on his own, doing a few laps to break in the ice. By the time he was finished, Loren had moved about two feet. He tried not to laugh, honestly, but he couldn’t help it.

“You’d be a lot further if you weren’t so stubborn.”

“It’s not a race. I’m not training for the Olympics.”

“Just let me help you.”

Loren gave him the look before giving in, cautiously releasing her death grip on the wall. Sidney grabbed her immediately, steadying her, and slowly led her out to center ice. Her legs slid out from under her a few times but Sidney was strong enough for the both of them, easily pulling her back up before she hit the ground.

“Use all the strength you’ve got in your legs.” They both looked down at Loren’s thin legs at the same time. “Ok, maybe that won’t work for you.”

“Wayne has chicken legs and he had a career year,” Loren argued. Wayne Simmonds’ chicken legs were often a topic of locker room jokes.

Sidney sighed. “You have to bend your knees.” Loren did as she was told. “Now try to push off.” She survived that. “There ya go. Keep going.”

Soon they were making their way around the ice like it was middle school all over again and it was the couples skate at the local skating rink. Loren finally understood the appeal: gliding around on the ice, she forgot about everything. Her mind was absolutely clear. There was nothing but the chill from the rink and the breeze in her hair.

“Hungry?” Sid asked as they came to a stop. Loren nodded and they made their way off the ice, putting their civilian shoes back on.

Loren nearly died when they reached the café. “You made them work?”

“They’re still getting paid!” Sidney argued. “I just rented the rink to make sure no one interrupted us. It’s not like I’m paying them to be here.”

“You’re ridiculous. They’re probably bored to tears!”

The kid behind the cash register laughed. “Are you bored to tears?” Sidney asked him. He shook his head no.

“You don’t have to act starstruck. He’s really not a big deal,” Loren said. “But since you insist on working, could I trouble you for a hot chocolate?”

Sidney doubled the order and the kid disappeared. They grabbed a table near the glass, overlooking the rink they’d just come from. Loren had to give him credit. She hadn’t been expecting much, but she’d been pleasantly surprised. Although Sidney was a newbie in the romance department, he was off to a good start.

“So how was your first ice skating experience?”

“Not bad,” Loren replied, blowing on her hot chocolate. “Wish I would’ve had a better teacher, though.”

Sidney scoffed. “Am I not qualified enough?”

“Why do you ask for it?”

“Ask for what?”

“You leave yourself wide open for Claude jokes and then you actually have the nerve to get mad when I take advantage.”

“Well, yeah, Loren.”

She laughed, eliciting a reluctant smile from her boyfriend. “Can I ask you something?” she questioned as soon as she calmed down.

“Of course.”

“Have you thought about any of it?”

“What do you mean?”

Loren took a sip of her hot chocolate. “Jordan’s not coming back, is he?”

“Probably not,” Sidney replied. “But no, I haven’t thought about that.”

“What about the lockout?”

“It’s too early to think about that kind of stuff, babe.”

“But have you thought about what you’d do? Like if you’d go play someplace else?”

Sidney shrugged. “I don’t think so. I still need time to heal.”

Loren nodded. “You could, uh, y’know…” Sidney waited for her to continue. “If you wanted to, I mean. You could…stay…with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“No!” Loren replied, as if Sidney had just dumped scalding water on her. “I’m just saying that if the lockout happens and it drags on for a long time and if you got lonely or bored or something, you could stay with me.”

Sidney grinned. “You’re totally asking me to move in with you.”

“I am not.”

“Whatever you say, Loren,” Sidney sung. “How about if I move my stuff in the second week of September? That good for you?”

“I am not even dignifying you with a response, you obnoxious child.”

“Admit it,” Sidney said, leaning over the table to kiss her on the lips, “you’re head over heels in love with me.”

Loren rolled her eyes but kissed him again anyway. “You’re all right.”