The Right Thing

November passed quickly. Sidney and I stuck with our routine, comfortable in a way that I couldn’t have initially imagined. It differed from my first visit, the length of time allowing us to find ourselves at ease in our daily activities.

We had a quiet Thanksgiving, opting not to have a big celebration. We spent the day together, just the two of us. We cooked together and watched some movies, keeping to ourselves all day. Mario and Nathalie invited us over for dinner, but we opted out, declining the invitation for a day without distractions. We knew it wouldn’t be held against us, it wouldn’t be something that they minded. The invitation was more out of courtesy than anything else.

I went home on the first of December and I found the emptiness of the apartment significantly worse than it had been before my month away. No amount of phone calls and no number of body pillows could take Sidney’s place. Nothing really helped and none of it was a comfort to me.

I was lonely and miserable most of the time. Hearing the sound of his voice; raspy from long conversations with other members of the union or with Pat about his options when it came to playing overseas, served as the only comfort on my worst days. I tried not to let on, not to let him know. But he could always hear it in my voice.

On a certain level, I was angry with myself. I’d never allowed my emotions to be controlled by anyone else, but that’s what was happening. The longer I was away from him, the more I realized how much I wanted, perhaps even needed to be near him.

I just tried to focus on those moments that I could pretend we weren’t so far apart.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked one evening.

We were sharing dinner via telephone. It wasn’t polite and my mother would have scolded me for eating while having a conversation on the phone; but it was how we tried to keep things normal between us. Beyond that, Sidney hated that I ate dinner alone most nights. He could easily grab a friend and go out to dinner, but I wasn’t as likely to call around to look for a dinner date. I was much more likely than he was to simply stay in.

The holiday was a week away and we hadn’t discussed it, perhaps unsure of whether we were at the point of deciding which family to spend a holiday with. That seemed to be the burden of people with rings on their left hands, not one of people who had been together only half a year and had been doing so at a distance.

“I’m staying here, I think.”

I wasn’t going back to Minnesota over the holiday. I felt like I’d done more travelling in the previous six months than I had in all my life, mainly because of the long visits with Sidney. It wasn’t that I wanted to be alone on Christmas, I just hadn’t seen it fit to make any other plans.

“Boston?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Is your dad coming east?”

“No. He’s headed west. Spending it in California with his sister and my grandmother.”

When my father’s father, Frank, had passed away when I was in high school, my Grandma Ina had joined my Aunt Maggie in California. Maggie was divorced and she’d never had children. She’d been living there for decades, having run off to find sunshine and open minds that matched her own. My father had always avoided trips, having only been once since my mother had passed, but he’d accepted the invitation just for a change of scenery.

He had never liked his younger sister’s choices. She’d married an older man and dropped out of college. They’d gotten divorced and she’d headed west to find herself. My father always rolled his eyes when she told people what she did for a living. The trained doctor wasn’t a fan of the idea that she was a spiritual healer and an herbalist. But as much as it bothered him, I wasn’t so quick to discount her theories. I’d always enjoyed Aunt Maggie.

I wondered if my failed attempt at trying to connect with Gerald and Rose had made him want to reconnect with his own family. All I hoped was that the sunshine in California would do him some good. It would’ve done me, but I’d declined my invitation. I couldn’t be sure why.

“Is Sebastian going to be there at least?” he asked.

“No.”

“No?”

“He’s headed back to Minnesota. His family has this week-long party. It starts on Christmas Eve and doesn’t end until the second of January. It’s all food, drinks, and extreme board games.”

It was another invitation that I had declined.

“You’re spending Christmas alone?”

“I guess. It will just be me and my takeout menus.”

“That’s not even remotely okay, Bronwyn.”

“I did it twice in college, I’ll survive.”

Orphan’s Holidays weren’t the rarest of occasion in a college town like Boston. I’d spent my freshman Christmas with my roommate eating a reject cake that we’d purchased at the local supermarket. Nicole, the girl that I’d shared the room with and one of few college friends I remained in touch with, had family in the area but instead of spending the holiday with them, she opted to spend it with me. We’d avoided anything too Christmassy, both of us wearing spring colors and watching horror movies. It had been the best Christmas since my mom had passed.

My senior year hadn’t been by choice. Sebastian and I had full intentions to go back to Minnesota for the break, but the weather wouldn’t let up and we wound up snowed in more than once. We gave in a few days into the ordeal and decided to spend our vacation in Boston. It hadn’t been nearly as fun as my Christmas with Nicole, but we had plenty of good times.

But having an Orphan’s Christmas at the age of twenty-four, when I had plenty of cash to get me out to see my family, was starting to feel silly as I gave it more thought.

“That’s not happening.”

“It’s not?”

“No. No girlfriend of mine is going to be spending the holiday alone. Some holidays, fine. You want to have a lonely Easter or a shitty Memorial Day, that’s your choice. Not Christmas. No one should be alone on Christmas.”

“Don’t worry about me. You’re spending it with your family.”

“Yes I am,” he replied. “And so are you.”

“Sidney—“

“Please don’t argue with me. I miss you and I know you miss me, I can hear it in your voice. That or you’re sad for no reason and if that’s the case, I think you need to be with people who care about you.”

“Like your family?”

“Of course.”

It seemed he hadn’t heard the skepticism in my voice.

“Your whole family?”

“I see where you’re going with this. I know it’s a little bit overwhelming, but only about half of the family with be there.”

“So there will be about 100 people instead of 200. Great; that way I’ll have fewer names to learn.”

“There aren’t that many.”

The Forbes family was huge. Trina had more siblings that I could count and I knew that the number of cousins was hovering somewhere near two-dozen. Compared to my family, it was a tremendous difference. I had 2 cousins, both of them the children of my father’s older brother. Uncle Ronnie had a son name Dustin and a daughter named Ally. They lived in Alaska and I’d met them three times in my life. I couldn’t have picked them out of a crowd.

That wasn’t the case for Sidney.

They were a close family. While Troy’s side was smaller than Trina’s, holidays were always a big production.

“I don’t have any gifts—“

He cut me off again. “We’ll slap your name on mine and I’ll split my Subway gift card from Nanny Crosby with you.”

I laughed.

“Will you please come with me? I just know that if you don’t, all I’ll do is worry about you sitting at home alone watching Sandra Bullock movies and eating pizza on Christmas. I’ll be all distracted and Christmas will be the worst.”

“Will it shut you up?”

“If you say yes; yes, it will.”

“Okay.”

“How hard was that?”

“Don’t gloat or you’ll get coal instead of the present I actually have for you.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have any presents.”

“For your enormous family; but I certainly have one for you. Frankly, it’s pretty epic.”

“Mine for you isn’t half bad either.”

“Mine will blow it out of the water.”

“I think mine is bound to be pretty memorable.”

My stomach dropped momentarily at the heaviness of his words.

“Sidney?”

“Yes?”

“Just for future reference, if a man ever proposed to me during a family gathering, in a public venue, on a jumbotron, or with the help of a marching band, I would find reason to castrate him.”

“That’s not at all why it’s going to be epic. I’m not going to propose at Christmas and for reasons other than wanting to keep my dick attached to my body.”

“Good.”

“I’m glad we’ve got that covered. Besides, you’d say no.”

“You can’t know that.”

“If I can’t convince you to move here and getting you to Cole Harbour is a battle, we aren’t yet eternal commitment material. Not yet. Anyway, neither of us wants a long engagement and I’m not dumb enough to think you’re the kind of girl that wants a proposal to contain the pressure of answering in front of a crowd.”

“Hypothetically, how do you propose to a girl like me?”

“Hypothetically, if I answered that question it would ruin the hypothetical surprise. But I can say you would want privacy, maybe some classic romance. No big gestures or productions. Just something simple and genuine. Hypothetically.”

I smiled. “Well then, if you aren’t proposing, then my gift will definitely win.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I suppose we will.”

We talked longer than usual and after he’d told me he’d figure out the flight situation, we finally hung up and called it a night. It was late and he had plans in the morning, the rest of the guys meeting him at the rink to run drills. I didn’t have a need to get out of bed too early, though I knew that I would be. For the first time in weeks, I slept like he was sleeping next to me. I woke feeling unburdened only to find an email from Sid waiting for me.

He’d booked himself a flight to Boston and then the two of us would fly from Boston to Halifax the next day. And though I was worried about meeting his family, I was beginning to look forward to not spending the holiday alone. More than that, I was looking forward to spending it with him. We’d spent Thanksgiving together, but we hadn’t celebrated. It would be the first official holiday we would be sharing.

I was also looking forward to the chance to give him his gift, or at least show it to him. It wasn’t exactly something that could easily make the trip.

Weeks earlier, when I’d still been in Pittsburgh, Sidney had been looking through my portfolio. In part he was doing so out of boredom, simply because it had been sitting within his reach. But he was also looking for ideas. His knowledge of art was limited and he wasn’t even sure of his own style. But I had continued telling him that the walls in his house, even the house back in Cole Harbour were too empty.

If he didn’t find an idea, his walls would likely be empty forever and that would be enough to drive me completely crazy.

I’d told him, as he flipped through the pages, that art, especially custom made pieces, had the ability to make a house feel like a home. The house would be made more inviting and lived in in the same way that throw pillows and personal photos made a house seem. It was a home, not a showpiece and it needed to feel like that, not like a house being staged for sale.

He had no idea where to start.

I watched him closely as he went through the pages of my work; several years’ worth of it. He came across a photograph of a piece that one of my professors had commissioned when I was still in college. It was a 6-panel piece that spelled out the word “Family”, used to balance a huge picture window in their dining room. I’d painted each canvas to match their décor then used photos and personal momentos to build the letters. Layers of images, words, and swatches built up to create something that no one else had.

I saw Sidney lingering on the page and later took the chance to point out a similar piece that I’d done for Sebastian’s mother to hang in their family room spelling out their last name in a similar way.

Sidney asked me how long the pieces had taken. I hadn’t given him a real response. The one for Sebastian’s family had taken almost six weeks to finish, but Sid’s reaction to it was all I needed. It was the only piece that he had any real reaction to, the only piece that slowed him and made him consider it before he moved forward and on to the next.

I’d enlisted the help of his sister and mother to procure photos and articles. I knew that Trina kept boxes of them, every magazine and newspaper article from his childhood. I had photos of my own to add, opting to slip just a few pictures from our time together into the piece I was making for him. But while there were moments, snapshots of the two of us, most of it was about Sidney. His life and achievements. I’d gone the last name route and knew that if he loved it, which I hoped he would, it could go on any wall in either house.

I’d been enjoying the baby pictures more than anything else. Though I did get a kick out of the awkward teenage years as well. I’d certainly been through it, but his frosted tips and hair dye experiments, not to mention his beaded necklaces and bandanas, rivaled my frizzy hair and braces. It was good to see that his teenage years had been all that kind either. Though I was sure if I’d gone to school with him back in Minnesota, I would have certainly had a crush on the Canadian boy on the hockey team, even with the bad bleach job.

With our Christmas plans in place, I was feeling motivated to finish the canvases by the time he got to Boston a few days before Christmas. I was also feeling remarkably less burdened, lighter and more at ease.

By the time Sidney arrived at my apartment, armed with his own key, his gift was complete and leaning against the living room wall draped with an old sheet. I resisted the urge to show him as soon as he walked in and instead focused on the way he smelled as he wrapped me in his arms. I reveled in it. I was so glad to be close to him again, weeks of loneliness melting away upon contact.

“I missed you,” he whispered in my ear.

I sighed against him, breathing him in deeply, letting him fill my lungs. I held him there so he couldn’t escape, so the warmth of him wouldn’t slip away.

“I missed you too,” I replied.

I never admitted it on the phone, refusing to cry uncle. But that didn’t mean he was unaware of my plight. Even if I didn’t say it, it was certainly present in every word I spoke to him. It wasn’t something I could hide, not from him anyway.

I finally let go as he closed the door behind him, kicking his shoes off and pulling me towards the sofa. He didn’t say a word as he took up residence in the corner of the couch and pulled me against him. I tucked myself against his side without hesitation. I felt relief to be tangled up in him, so close that I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong.

“Can we just stay like this forever?” I asked.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating low in his chest. “If you want, though I do smell like airplane.”

“You’ve smelled worse.”

He laughed again. “We fly out tomorrow at noon.”

I nodded against him.

“My family is excited to meet you. My grandmothers are the only ones other than Taylor and my folks to ever meet someone I was seeing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“What did they think of her?”

“Grandma was leery and Nanny Crosby said she wasn’t right for me.”

“Smart women.”

“I tend to think so. They’ll love you though; that I’m sure of. Tough and independent; just the type of person I need in my life.”

“What on earth would you do without me?”

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Don’t you?”

“Not at all. You know what I can’t stop thinking about?”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Always with your mind in the gutter,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’m just dying to find out what you’re giving me for Christmas.”

I craned my neck and smiled up at him.

“What?”

“Truth is, it isn’t something I can haul up to Nova Scotia. So, I’ve decided that I have to give it to you before we leave.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want it now?”

“Only if I can give you yours. It isn’t really plane sized either.”

“Deal,” I replied as I slipped out of his grasp.

I stepped over to the wall and grasped the edge of the old sheet.

“Ready?” I asked.

“My gift is behind that?”

I nodded.

“No wonder we can’t bring it with us.”

I chuckled. “Seriously, are you ready?”

“As long as it isn’t a dead body.”

“Be serious.”

“I am being serious. If it’s a dead body, I don’t want it. Worst Christmas gift ever, hands down.”

I shook my head at him and pulled the sheet away. “Ta da!”

His eyes focused in, widening slowly as he rose to his feet, moving into get a better look.

“Holy shit, Wyn. How much time did this take you?”

I shrugged but he wasn’t looking. He knelt down in front of the first letter, filled with pictures of his childhood on and off the ice. He ran a finger over the surface, grazing the clear coat gently.

“Seriously, babe, how much work did you put into this?”

“As much as any wonderful boyfriend deserves.”

He stood and wrapped me in a hug, leaving the other panels for further inspection later on. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest in a crushing hug.

“This puts my gift to shame.”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Really, this is amazing.”

“You like it?”

“Like it? I love it!”

“I figured you could put it somewhere in the house.”

“I know exactly where I’m going to put it. It’s amazing. You’re amazing,” he murmured against my hair.

“I’m so glad you love it.”

“Were you worried that I wouldn’t?”

“A little.”

“Why?”

“Art is subjective.”

“It’s perfect for either house, but I think it will stay in Pittsburgh. I’ll see it there more that way. It may be subjective, but the fact that the woman I love put her heart and soul into isn’t subjective at all. Thank you.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to my lips. I found myself smiling and felt his lips curl upwards against my own in his sideways way.

“My turn?” I asked.

“Not yet, I really want to look at this.”

He turned his attention back to the canvases. He moved slowly from letter to letter.

“It’s all chronological. Your mom emailed me a bunch of pictures and articles. She liked the idea, like a scrapbook for display of you through the years.”

“She was in on this?”

“Your sister and Nathalie helped out too.”

“You went all out.”

“I guess so. It’s what girlfriends do, right?”

“Only the keepers.”

I liked the sound of it, being a keeper. Being the girl that his grandmothers would love. Being the only girl to meet his whole family, even if that family was overwhelmingly large.

“Why aren’t there any pictures of us?”

I smiled. “I hid a few of them in the last one.”

I’d included the picture that Taylor had taken of Sidney and I sleeping on the sofa of his house in Cole Harbour. I watched as he grazed the image and glanced back towards me.

“Taylor took that, when I was visiting you over the summer.”

“I like it,” he murmured.

“It’s my favorite.”

It truly was. We’d snapped plenty of pictures over our few months together. But the one that his sister had secretly taken of us was the one that I loved the most. It was framed on the bedside table in my room. I could fall asleep gazing at it, drifting off to dreams of him, imagining what it felt like with his arms wrapped around me. Some mornings it was the first thing I saw when I awoke and while it made me miss him, it made me feel close to him as well.

He admired the panels for a few more minutes, taking in each image as if he hadn’t seen any of them before. It struck me that maybe there were some, aside from the one that Taylor had taken, that he hadn’t ever seen. Sidney was too busy to slow down and flip through old photo albums, it just wasn’t his speed. He also wasn’t one to dwell on the past, always moving forward. That was a good thing, a strength, but it didn’t mean that he couldn’t use a reminder of the past every once in a while. He was human after all.

“So,” I began as he flopped back down next to me on the sofa, “when do I get my fantastic present?”

“I suppose you can have it right now if you really want it.”

“You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”

“I’m not above it.”

I watched as a grin crept across his face, the smile he saved for me, one that only a precious few ever saw play out across those lips of his.

He reached into his pocket and regardless of the conversation we’d had a few weeks earlier, my blood ran cold in my veins for fear he would pull out a velvet box and I’d be faced with one of the biggest decisions if my life. He reached out with his free hand, squeezing my thigh, having noticed the way that I tensed up next to him. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and held it gingerly towards me.

I feigned a gasp. “You’re old phone! You shouldn’t have.”

He gave me a nudge with his shoulder. “It isn’t the phone, it’s what’s on the phone.”

“Angry Birds?”

He chuckled and pulled up an image on the screen, handing the phone to me.

I felt my brow furrow as I took in the photograph. It was a large, white room. One wall was covered in built-in shelving, a drafting table was tucked away in a corner, and in the middle of the room, standing in stark contrast to the dark wood of the floors, there was a sizable work surface. The light pouring in from a series of large windows was alarming even on the screen of his phone.

“A friend helped me stock it for you. Best views in the house and no need to sequester yourself in a guest bedroom.”

“This is a room in your house?”

“Your room. So you can always work when you’re in town. The house isn’t done, but once it is, the room is all yours.”

“You had a room designed for me?”

“Yeah. You said it yourself, it’s too much house for one person. I figured I might as well share.”

“Sid—“

“I know you don’t want to move to Pittsburgh right now, and I’m not going to ask you again, not right now. But if you change your mind, it’s there. If you don’t, it’s there when you visit.”

“It’s just…” I trailed off.

“A gift, Bronwyn. It’s a gift.”

I smiled. It was too much, much more than a piece of art to hang on his wall. It was an entire room and the cost of the furniture alone was enough to pay my rent for a year if not longer.

“And don’t say that it’s too much,” he said as though he could read my mind. “You aren’t easy to shop for.”

“You did an incredible job,” I murmured, moving closer to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Merry early Christmas.”

“You’re not easy to shop for either,” I chided, leaning into his embrace.

“I know. But you couldn’t have done better if you tried.”

“I would bow if you didn’t have me in a death-grip.”

“Am I hurting you?”

He sounded truly concerned, like he was afraid he was actually doing some amount of damage to me. I laughed softly and dropped my head onto his shoulder.

“No, I like it. Though I doubt you know your own strength half the time.”

He squeezed a little tighter. “Oh, I know my own strength.”

I nearly fell asleep there, pressed against his body on a chilly, winter afternoon. There really wasn’t anything better, nothing that I could imagine anyway. He roused me eventually and we headed for the kitchen, tiny compared to the one we’d grown used to cooking in, but the proximity wasn’t a drawback, not as far as I was concerned.

I set him to chopping vegetables as I did the rest of the work. I asked him about his family, about his grandmothers and aunts and uncles. It wasn’t something we’d ever really discussed in depth, family dynamics as sensitive a subject for him as they could be for me.

We each had a glass of wine as dinner cooked and he told me about his father’s side of the family. His mother’s side was larger, but the relationships seemed to be more straight-forward. His dad’s side was more complex, at least emotionally. The dynamic seemed more difficult to understand than the way his mother’s Irish-Catholic clan seemed to be.

He spoke briefly about his paternal grandfather, genetically speaking. Like my own grandparents, I knew that it was a sore subject, something that Sidney didn’t really want to talk about too much. I knew that he’d left when Troy was young, leaving Sidney’s grandmother to raise her three children alone. There’d been a man in her life, her husband as far as her family was concerned, but he’d passed away when Sidney was a teenager, still playing Junior.

He told me that Linda was fiercely protective of her children and grandchildren. She also seemed to have strong opinions about the people in their lives. Sidney made it clear that she would be the more difficult one to impress, the one that I needed to get in my corner. But he also insisted that she was someone who, once she had let you in, would be supportive and loving to no end.

He was more candid than I was accustomed to. It wasn’t that he kept secrets, especially not from me. That wasn’t the case. He was just careful, his walls rarely came down all the way. Certain subjects just weren’t discussed too often, I felt blessed when he opened up in that way, in part because it was such a rarity.

He insisted on washing the dishes as I finished packing for the short trip north. I slipped into bed while he finished up in the kitchen, a trail of switched-off lights trailing him down the hallway and into my room.

He toed the door shut behind him.

“That tired?” he asked, slipping his jeans and t-shirt off before sliding in next to me in nothing more than his boxer-briefs and his necklace.

I switched off the lamp on my bedside table and rolled towards him. He was waiting, tilted towards me, his arms open and ready to lock around me like the safety harness on a roller coaster.

“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” I admitted as his arms wrapped around me.

“Since when?”

“Since I got back.”

“You haven’t slept well in weeks?”

I pressed my face against his chest, breathing him in.

“Wyn?”

“I just…I guess I don’t sleep as well when I’m away from you.”

“There’s an easy fix for that.”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask me to move in again.”

“I’m not; I’m just saying that you’re welcome to share a bed with me whenever you choose. You don’t even have to ask.”

I felt his lips press against my hair, my eyelids fluttering closed as ai began to drift off.

“You’re not the only one who gets lonely, you know.”

“You can’t get lonely, you’re surrounded by people all the time.”

I felt him inhale deeply before a soft laugh rattled in his throat. Sleep was beginning to pull me under as his warmth relaxed me.

“Yes, my teammates. And trust me when I tell you, my teammates don’t look anything like you in a dress and heels. And I sure as hell wouldn’t cuddle with those bastards.”

“Not even Flower?”

“Not even Flower.”

“Good. Not that I’m threatened. I’m probably way better at cuddling than he is anyway.”

“I’m sure you are.”

I couldn’t hold on any longer and by the time I was actually awake the next morning, Sid was ushering me up a set of metal stairs and onto a plane occupied by only the two of us and three member flight crew.

I glared daggers as he settled in the seat next to me.

“Don’t look at me like that, Doyle.”

“Sidney Patrick Crosby,” I scolded. “A private plane? Really? Haven’t we been through this before?”

“It’s easier this way. Less time in the airport, no lines, no baggage disasters, and a quicker flight. I almost always travel this way during the holidays. I try to avoid the circus.”

“At what cost?”

“Is this a moral or fiscal debate? Either way; no it isn’t normal and no it isn’t cheap. But normal isn’t always feasible for me. Normal doesn’t always work. Financially, it isn’t a big deal, I can afford it and I waste very little.”

“You couldn’t just go first class?”

“Not over Christmas. I’ve tried it and it isn’t a good idea. I don’t want you getting stuck in that insanity.”

I continued to glare, my arms crossed.

“I know you don’t like this, but for fuck’s sake, please, just trust me on this.”

His hand landed on my knee and try as I might, I gave up the fight quickly. Sidney tried to be remarkably normal even when it didn’t make sense. I couldn’t really hold it against him, wanting to have a peaceful trip home. I knew that it wasn’t always possible to do things the way other people could, that was just something I’d have to get used to.

Beyond that, there was no sense in being pissy about it. It was the 23rd and within thirty-six hours, I would be at the mercy of his family; the Forbes family on Christmas Eve and the Crosby family on Christmas Day. My only saving grace was the fact that we would be staying at Sidney’s, making the nights our own. Privacy would be nice, regardless of how we used it.

I’d never experienced anything quite like it. So many people shoved into a small space, so many conversations happening all at once. Sidney was completely at ease, guiding me from group to group, introducing me with the broadest smile on his face. He was like an excitable puppy showing off a newly discovered toy. I didn’t mind.

I tried to remember names, but it was all a bit overwhelming. But the meal, served on several makeshift tables, was divine. Dessert was even better. Gifts were exchanged and Sidney and his sister were the first to seek out a garbage bag to collect all of the discarded paper.

We were amongst the last to leave, plenty of his cousins having children of their own who needed to be in bed before Santa arrived.

Before we left, already bundled against the cold, his grandmother stepped up in front of me and wrapped her arms around me tightly.

“It is so nice to finally meet you.”

“Finally?”

She pulled away and sent me a smile. “You were all he could talk about this summer. Aside from hockey, but that is to be expected.”

I sent Sidney a glance. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he shrugged as if to admit he’d spent his summer talking about me.

“It was wonderful to meet you, Katie.”

We’d already been through the “Mrs. Forbes” vs. “Katie” debate, which she had quickly won.

“Hopefully you’ll come visit this summer when he brings that cup home again.”

Sid sighed with a playful roll of his eyes, his hand landing on my lower back.

“Cup or no cup, I’m sure I’ll be back.”

Sidney didn’t move his hand as he led me out towards the car, my breath visible immediately upon stepping out the door.

“You did great,” he said as he ushered me towards the car. “They all love you.”

“They’re all in shock that you brought a girl to Christmas.”

He smiled. “Really, they loved you. And she wasn’t kidding in there, she’s going to be expecting a visit from you this summer.”

“I’m all for it.”
Sidney had made me nervous about the smaller, quieter Crosby family He had only one aunt and one uncle along with just a few cousins. The Crosby family dinner on Christmas Day was decidedly more low-key. Everyone fit at one table, conversation was a group effort, and the ability to grill Sidney’s girlfriend was much better.

But it didn’t happen. Linda Crosby seemed fully aware that her son had likely already run me through his gambit of tests. She asked me about myself, but it didn’t feel like I was being forced to take the SAT’s without any sort of preparation. It felt like my boyfriend’s grandmother, along with the rest of his family, was trying to get to know me. It was just a conversation with his grandmother, a remarkably strong and soft-spoken woman.

I wasn’t being tested or questioned. It was simply made clear that there was nothing in the world that mattered more to Linda than her family. Her grandchildren were her pride and joy, and Sidney certainly didn’t outrank the others. The happiness of her family was paramount, and she could see that Sidney was happy. That was all that mattered.

By the time evening rolled around and Sidney finished off the glass of wine that I’d barely touched, I’d passed her tests without even trying.

She hugged me when we were leaving, her grip lighter than Katie’s. Sidney had mentioned that she was a bit weak, battling cancer and preferring not to talk about it. She was just happy to be at home and with her family while she could be.

She struck me as someone who always looked for the bright spot in the darkness. She seemed tough, resilient in a remarkable way. Her smile was quick and broad. I was fairly certain she could light up a room with it.

“Thank you for coming, Bronwyn.”

“Thank you for having me.”

She sent me a quiet smile. “I’m sure my grandson told you that I’m hard to please, but I ask only one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Take good care of him. He’s stubborn as a bull moose but he needs people whether he likes to admit it or not. Make sure that he doesn’t get so focused that he forgets to enjoy having you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I’m sure that will be more than enough.”

She murmured something in Sidney’s ear as he leaned down to hug her, sure not to squeeze too tightly. I didn’t catch what she said, but as he pulled away, he promised he would do whatever it was she asked of him.

I sent him a quizzical look but he didn’t volunteer any information until long after we’d said our final goodbyes to his family for the evening.

Sidney was staying in town until the New Year and I had every intention of remaining there with him. There’d been no real news on the lockout before Christmas and he wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic about their chances at a deal before it was too late. But we didn’t talk about it. We just appreciated a trip that we wouldn’t have had otherwise.

I curled against him in bed, my feet pressed to his calves, trying to warm my toes.

“Have you not heard of socks?” he asked.

I could tell that he was half-smiling. My feet were cold, but the cold didn’t really bother him. He was teasing me more than anything else.

“I don’t like them. Too restrictive.”

“I’ve seen some of those contraptions you call bras, socks have nothing on those things.”

I chuckled. “You’ve had some interesting battles with my bras.”

He smiled in the darkness, my feet feeling warmer having leeched some of the heat from his blazingly warm skin.

“I always win.”

“With a little help.”

“Fine. It’s a team effort.”

I felt his muscles beginning to relax towards sleep as I wrapped myself up in him.

“What did your grandmother tell you?”

“Huh?”

“When we were leaving tonight, what did you promise her you would do?”

“This,” he said softly, leaning down to press his lips to mine.

“You promised your grandmother that you would kiss me?”

“Not really. I just promised her that I’d hold onto you, treat you well, and cherish you.”

“She wants you to do all those things?”

“She wants me to be happy and you make me happy. It’s as simple as that.”

“Simple, huh?”

“Incredibly,” he replied, pressing his lips to mine once again.

“Does that mean that I’m easy?”

He laughed, a bright chiming sound resonating in the darkness. “Not even a little bit.”