The Right Thing

I slipped out of his bed early on Friday morning. He needed restful sleep and I was wide awake. I wasn’t going to be able to stay still for as long as he needed to sleep. It was only fair that I slip out of bed for the morning and leave him be. Besides, when he woke up, he needed to focus on the game and not on us. I knew he wouldn’t find a reason to argue with me, especially not on game day.

Routine was best for him and I was so nervous that I didn’t want my anxiety to rub off on him. He was usually pretty good about keeping things from affecting him, but I had no interest in risking anything before such an important game. I’d been dealing with enough pointless guilt; I didn’t need to add to it.

The boys were all confident, maybe even ignorantly so. Yes, they were down three games to none, but they were certain it was going to happen. So sure they would get their stride as they had in the second half of the previous game. Positive that they could get it together and reverse sweep the team that was threatening to sweep them.

I wasn’t so sure and I didn’t want Sidney to see the skepticism on my face every time he said that they’d get their bounces, the if they played like they had the game before, the game would turn their way. I didn’t want him to see me doubting him because I hated the fact that I was feeling such doubt.

It didn’t help that Nicole thought Rask had sold his soul to the devil for a force field to place around his net.

By the third period, I was a nervous wreck. Every nerve was frayed and I sat like a live wire. I could hardly bear to watch the game.

“We should have made a Rask voodoo doll.”

I glared at her as she took a sip of her beer. Mine sat untouched. I was afraid that if anything touched my stomach I would ralph all over the people sitting in front of us and I didn’t want to traumatize the kid in the Seguin jersey in front of me.

“What? It could work. And it could also be very entertaining. Just imagine it.”

“Not. Helping.”

She stopped, letting me fester in the oncoming misery.

Each time I heard the ting of volcanic rubber bouncing off of steel, I sank deeper into my seat. I wondered if the boys were still being stupidly confident or if they were starting to see what was happening to them. The bounces weren’t coming, the goals weren’t happening. They may have been getting their stride, but it wasn’t doing them a bit of good.

I rose to my feet as the roar of the crowd grew deafening. They put on a show in the last minute of the game. The mess around the net, bodies flying in every direction, what seemed like a million attempts to get a goal, it brought me to my feet. They worked hard, putting everything they had out on the ice. But it didn’t go in. It went everywhere but in.

I dropped into my seat as the buzzer sounded.

It was over.

Boston had brought their broom and they’d used it.

My heart sank. I fought back tears; not because they’d lost, the loss sucked, but I was about to cry because I knew how much they wanted it. I knew how hard they’d worked, the battle they’d put into what they were doing.

I knew as they skated off the ice that Sid was hurting. That was all it took to break my heart.

“Need a ride to the hotel?” Nicole asked; patting my thigh.

I shook my head. “I’ll walk. I could use some air.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” I managed to choke out.

It wasn’t like I had Sidney’s name tattooed on my face. I wasn’t going to be chirped on the street by excited Bruins fans. I had mace on my keychain and the walk wasn’t very long. The hotel was only a few blocks away and I really needed to clear my head.

“Take care of that boyfriend of yours.”

I had every intention of doing just that.

She gathered her purse, gave me a quick hug, and disappeared into the flood of people leaving the arena. It took time for me to get outside. By the time I stepped out onto the sidewalk I was in desperate need of fresh air. I felt like I was suffocating in the rush of fans that were pushing out the doors and towards their vehicles. I wanted to scream by the time the evening air hit my lungs.

I took a deep breath, hoping it would clear my head. Boston felt different and for the first time in years not a shred of it felt like home. I was just a visitor in a Penguins shirt, hiding within the confines of a jean jacket. I wasn’t really welcome and I didn’t intend to stay long.

I took my time walking to the hotel, trying to find some familiarity, but it was gone. I wound up sitting down in the shower, the water pressure less than satisfactory. The fresh water mixed with the salt of tears that I felt silly for crying.

I hoped that Sid was in better shape than I was as their plane headed back to Pittsburgh.

I couldn’t sleep and found myself staring at the clock. A knock on the door brought me straight out of bed. It was a little after one in the morning when I pulled open the door and felt a vice grip tighten on my chest.

If he’d looked like hell on Wednesday night, it was nothing compared to the way he looked after game four.

His eyes were bloodshot, cast down at the floor and trained on a stationary spot on the carpet. His skin was pale, sickeningly so. He had his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world rested on them.

He looked dejected, but more than that, he looked ashamed.

“What are you doing here?”

The words were barely out of my mouth when the weight of the world came crashing down and he folded into himself. He was wrapped in my arms, nearly staggering me as he pressed himself against me, trying to make himself smaller than he could possibly become.

“I’m so sorry, Sidney.”

He nodded against my collarbone, his hat falling to the floor.

I steered him into the room, leading him to the bed. He sat down and leaned against the headboard, pulling me down between his legs.

“Why aren’t you on your way home?”

“Couldn’t face it.”

“Face what?”

“The plane. The guys.”

“The loss?”

He sighed.

“Weren’t you the guy who once told me that you win as a team and you lose as a team?”

He was. He was famous for it. Especially in the time that he’d been out with his jaw; it was a reminder for himself that they would be fine without him and that there would be a place for him when he was better. It was something that helped him keep his head up. He wouldn’t let anyone forget it. They were a unit, not a group made up of twenty-some individuals. They were as one out on the ice and that was how they won games.

When they forgot that fact, they lost games.

“I guess,” he muttered.

“Then how is this different? Why are you here with me and not with your team?”

“I’m their captain.”

“Yes, you are. You’re a damn good captain, but right now you’re being a chickenshit.”

“Thanks for your support.”

“I’m serious, Crosby. You’re their leader and you got so wrapped up in your self-loathing, boohoo I didn’t get a point, bullshit that you opted out of a team flight. Who does that? You can’t possibly believe that you’re the only guy blaming himself. Every man on that team is wishing they’d gotten another shift, blocked a shot, gotten a point. Just because you’re the captain doesn’t put you more at fault than them, but it does mean you have more responsibility. You’re supposed to be there to lead them through the loss as well.”

He kissed the sensitive flesh behind my ear.

“That is why I couldn’t go with them,” he said as if trying to prove a point.

“Because you can’t kiss them?”

“I’m their captain; I can kiss them if I really want to. It just gets awkward in the dressing room if I do. What I mean is that none of them will say those things to me. The coach won’t either. They don’t call me an asshole when I’m being one, not usually. They try to treat me normally and then it’s like they hit a wall and won’t cross that line. I need to be called on my bullshit.

“If I tried to talk to Dad about it, he’d just tear my game apart and find all of the flaws. He wouldn’t have said anything constructive. Then there’s you. You call me a chickenshit, which you’re right about. But I knew what you’re really saying when you call me names.”

“Pretty sure I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“You’re saying you love me.”

“They must speak a very different version of English in Canada. Crap, I hope that guy I flipped off in Halifax doesn’t think that I was proposing.”

He laughed a genuine laugh and I found myself turned towards him, straddling his lap as his lips found mine.

He worked his way down my jaw, his breath teasing the sensitive skin of my face and neck. His lips brushed my earlobe and slipped down onto my throat as my hands found the mess of his hair.

“When are you going back?” I asked; his touch pulling the breath from my lungs, making it hard to concentrate.

“Never.”

“Sidney.”

He chuckled, the tone of his voice taking on the husky rattle that made me melt. A sigh shuddered from between my lips.

“We’ll rent a car tomorrow. Make a road trip out of it.”

“It’s a ten hour drive.”

“We’ll take shifts.”

His lips were relentless, much like they had been when he first got permission to “test” his jaw. I warned him not to leave a mark where anyone could see it. I hadn’t travelled with a scarf and had my limits with how much I was willing to let people know about the way we spent our private time.

He nipped at the exposed skin of my shoulder in response.

I let him have his fun as I worked at the buttons of his shirt. His jacket had been cast aside and he kicked his shoes away. I slid the fabric down over his shoulders and away from his torso. His skin was hot to the touch and I let my hands wander as they saw fit.

“Marry me?”

“That’s really not the best thing to say in the heat of the moment, Canada.”

“Marry me.”

There was no question in his voice; it was more of a command.

“Sidney,” I began as I attempted to pull away.

I hadn’t noticed him reach for his jacket. His lips had distracted me so much that I hadn’t realized his right hand was no longer on my skin.

And then it was there.

A light blue box clutched in his hand.

“Bronwyn, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me—“

“Is this really the right time?” I asked as his hand trembled almost imperceptibly.

“You’re not even going to let me do this properly, are you?”

“It’s just that you’ve had a tough night,” I replied as I shifted my weight off of his lap.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

He rolled his eyes and slid off the bed. I had to look down for my eyes to meet his.

“From here on out, the man on one knee has the floor. Clear?”

I nodded.

He began again. “Bronwyn Abigail Doyle, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I’ve been holding onto this ring since December—“

“You were going to propose at Christmas!” I leapt to my feet and immediately slapped my hands to my mouth.

“Goddammit!”

“Sorry. That was supposed to be shouted inside my head.”

“Sit.”

I did as I was told, miming a zipper across my lips.

“As I was saying,” he said with an exasperated sigh. “I’ve been holding onto this ring since December; and no, I wasn’t going to propose at Christmas. I saw it and knew that it belonged on your finger and that I wanted to put it there. I’ve been waiting for the right moment and it hit me tonight after the game that I’ve been thinking all wrong.

“I’ve been waiting for that big a-ha moment but every moment is the right moment with you. There isn’t a time I don’t want to see you. There isn’t a moment that I don’t want to hear your voice or have you in my arms. There isn’t a moment when those aren’t the right things to do.

“I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So please, do me the honor of becoming my wife.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t find my voice. I’d known what he was asking; I knew where he was going when he fell on one knee. But there was something about the sincerity in his voice, his words carrying weight that I’d never heard in our time together. Not once in the year that I’d known the man kneeling on the floor in front of me had he ever sounded so serious.

Not once.

“Now is the time you talk,” he prompted.

“Yes!”

The word tumbled from my mouth over and over again. I wound up on the floor, throwing the weight of my body towards him. I threw him backwards forcing him to land on his ass. He rolled backwards, pulling me down along with him.

“I love you, Sidney Patrick Crosby.”

My lips found his, allowing me just a moment to be the aggressor.

“I think I’ve made it perfectly clear that the feeling is mutual.”

I laughed and rolled away, landing on the floor beside him. I stayed still as he reached for my left hand. I could feel that he was still shaking. He slipped the ring down onto my finger and smiled.

It fit as if it had been sized.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sidney murmured as he rolled onto his side. “Perfect fit.”

I couldn’t bring myself to stop looking at it.

Eventually, we made it back to the bed and got rid of the remainder of our clothing piece by piece. I took a moment to hang his suit over a chair.

“Why are you doing that when you could be doing me?” He kidded.

“Smooth.”

He grinned.

“I’m doing this because my boyfriend had a bit of a breakdown and allowed his luggage to go back to Pittsburgh without him. That means he has to wear this for an entire ten hour drive tomorrow. If anyone sees him in a wrinkled suit between here and home, they’re likely to think he’s taking the loss a little too hard. They’d think you spent the night in Boston drowning your sorrows in cheap liquor with your face between a stripper’s tits.”

“Not enough glitter on it. Besides, yours are so much better.”

I hurried back under the covers and let him do away with the remaining scraps of my clothing. He tossed the pieces to the floor, his focus on me.

There was no hurry, no rush. It was just the two of us with no distractions. He took his time, exploring every inch of my skin with his hands. His fingers were followed by his lips and tongue dancing across my skin, setting my nerves on fire.

I repaid his doting in full.

My left hand felt strangely heavy when I awoke in the morning. It took only a moment and the feeling of the ridges and planes of his body pressed against my back to remember just why that was.

His breathing was slow and rhythmic; unlike the labored cadence of our breathing the night before.

I wriggled out of his grasp and slipped into a knit dress I’d intended to wear on the flight back to Pittsburgh. But it seemed that my seat on the plane would go unused. I wasn’t sure how I felt about spending ten hours in the car, but I was certainly happy to have the chance to just be with my Fiancé for the day.

Fiancé; I could get used to that word.

Sidney began to stir as I found myself staring at the glittering rock on my finger. It caught the sunlight and sent it back towards me like a prism, catching my attention often.

“Come back to bed.”

I ignored the invitation, made so much harder to deny because of the rasp in his voice.

“Checkout is in an hour. We need to be getting on the road.”

He craned his neck to glance at the clock. “Christ, how is it ten already?”

“We were up late.”

“We certainly were,” he replied with a playful wiggle of his eyebrow.

“Get up, sleepyhead. You’ve got a lot of driving to do.”

“Shifts,” he replied.

I watched as he pushed himself up out of bed, his boxers slung dangerously low on his hips. I’d already opened the curtains and the sunlight bounced off of his skin. He needed time in the sun to get some color in his skin. He was terribly pale, evidence that he spent more time indoors on the ice than he did outside.

I got distracted watching him move towards me and before I knew it, his forehead was pressed against mine. I always found myself worthless when his eyes caught mine.

“We’re driving in shifts.”

I pressed up onto my toes and caught his lips with mine. It wasn’t what we needed to be doing. He needed to get a shower and pretend to have some sort of hygiene going for him without any of his toiletries with him.

“We’ll drive in shifts,” I agreed. “But because this was your great idea, this is going to be like a sixty- forty thing.”

He got himself going, contacting the front desk about landing us a rental car. They were surprised to find that Sidney Crosby was still in the hotel, but they were quick to jump on the task. They got us a basic, black SUV that would easily get us from Boston back to Pittsburgh by the end of the day. It had a solid sound system and GPS. It was all that we needed.

He looked more relaxed than he had the night before. The muscles of his broad shoulders were less taut as he took on the first leg of the drive. His demeanor had changed as well. It was clear that he wasn’t happy about the loss; it would eat at him all summer, and it would more than likely hit him in waves. But he was relieved in a way. I assumed that part of his calm came from the fact that he’d finally gotten the ring out of his pocket and onto my finger.

I didn’t ask if he’d carried the ring with him often. I assumed that he had. If that magic moment had occurred to him, he wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he missed it.

I watched him drive, the radio playing low in the background. I didn’t know the words and instead of trying to learn them, I focused on the way his shirt tapered at the slimmest part of his waist. His jacket and tie were in the back of the car, unnecessary on a road trip. I watched the way his forearms flexed as he hung on to the wheel, his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

He caught me staring and smiled.

“You wanna check my phone for me?” he asked as the grin continued to play out on his lips.

I scowled. “You sure?”

“What? There’s nothing on there that you can’t see. You can have my email password for all I care. Maybe I should give you that. I always forget it.”

I leaned back to get ahold of his jacket, fumbling to get the phone out of his pocket. “Voicemail,” I murmured as I gazed at the screen.

“Check it,” he replied.

He proceeded to give me his pin, a series of numbers meant to represent the four members of his family. His ancient phone was devoid of a speaker function and I was forced to repeat the messages to him as his eyes remained focused on the road.

“Jen says locker cleanout and media availability are in the morning.”

He sighed. “I knew that was coming.”

Knowing didn’t help. The day was inevitable, but they’d all hoped it would come later. They knew when they lost the night before that the day would come quickly. They would gather their things, some of them for the last time, and leave Consol or even Pittsburgh for the summer or perhaps longer. A few would choose to speak with the media; Sidney would undoubtedly be one of them. They would wish each other a happy summer and then wait to find out if they would be teammates again come fall.

Knowing break-up day was coming wasn’t a comfort.

“Still sucks?”

“Still sucks, we’re supposed to be getting ready for game five,” he lamented. “Anything else?”

I held up a finger as another message began. My ring caught the light again as I listened.

The ring was a bright spot for me, or at least the things that came along with the ring. They’d lost and the season was over too soon. Sidney and his teammates would fret about it all summer. But the fact was, if they’d won, the ring would still be waiting in his pocket.

I hung up the phone and swiveled in my seat. I didn’t see fit to mention my bright spot in all of it, but I had one that could be offered by the message from one of the team trainers.

“You get new teeth on Monday.”

He glanced towards me. “The real ones.”

I felt my nose crinkle. “Temporary crowns.”

“Oh well, it’s better than no teeth at all.”

“Such a positive way to look at it.”

He reached towards me, his fingers lacing with mine. I felt him spin the ring on my finger.

“There are a few positives today, I guess.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “There are.”

We stayed quiet for a while. I took my first shift behind the wheel a few hours in. We filled the car with talk of those positives.

“When did you get the ring?” I asked. “I know you’ve had it since December but…”

“I was at the mall a little before Christmas. I picked up my gifts for Mom and Taylor and I spotted it in the window. I had them tweak it a little to make sure it was perfect. It’s been with me since.”

“Like, on your person?”

“Not all the time. Only when I knew I’d see you. I had it hidden in one of my suits whenever you were in Pittsburgh.”

“Six months.”

“A little over, yeah.”

“Just waiting?”

He nodded. “It was your ring. I just didn’t want to ask before you were ready.”

“Before I was ready? How long have you been ready?”

“A while.”

He wouldn’t give me a more specific answer as I had known would be the case. He wasn’t going to tell me everything, not when it came to the way his mind worked. I couldn’t even be sure what criteria he used when deciding whether or not we were ready. I assumed that would be a mystery.

It hit me then, as he talked about the ring and my apparent slow progress into wife material; our parents didn’t know that he’d proposed. He smiled as I voiced my concern. He always looked like he was up to no good when he grinned in that way.

“What?”

“They know.”

“How?”

“I told my dad after the game last night. I didn’t tell him it would be last night, just that I intended to ask soon and I wanted him to be aware. I’m sure he’s already called Mom, and Taylor would demand information whenever she and Mom talked next. They know.”

“What about my Dad?”

I didn’t ever think that I was the kind of girl who needed that kind of approval. I’d never considered that I would want to have my father’s blessing to get married to someone. It had always seemed so pointless and archaic. I would marry whoever I chose. I didn’t need permission. Or at least I’d thought I didn’t need permission.

Sidney was still smiling. “What? You thought I wouldn’t talk to him first?”

“You called him last week?”

“No. I called him in January.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me to take care of you, not to take you for granted. Told me that if I hurt you there would be hell to pay.”

“All that, huh?”

“It wasn’t anything he hadn’t told me before.” He paused and spun the ring on my finger again. “You should probably call him. The poor guy has been waiting for me to follow through for a while.”

“When we get home.”

It was the first time that referring to Pittsburgh as such felt right. I loved it there and I loved the man that kept pulling me back. But it was the trip to Boston that proved I was no longer at home in Massachusetts. Home was Pittsburgh. Home was where Sidney felt at home.

“It might be late.”

“It will be an hour earlier in Minnesota.”

He smiled and kept driving, my hand still in his.

With pit stops, meals, and a few roadside attractions that I insisted upon taking pictures of, the drive took us just under thirteen hours. It was almost midnight when we traded the rental for the Range Rover at the airport and headed off to Sewickley for the night.

My plan to call my father and let him in on our news was practically forgotten. Sidney and I collapsed on the bed as soon as we were in the guest house. I had every intention of getting up and managing to change into pajamas, but I didn’t manage to complete the task. I got as far as kicking my shoes off before I was just too tired to do anything else.

We both fell asleep on top of the covers with our clothes still on.

Sidney was up an out of the house when I finally rolled out of bed. At some point in the night I’d wound up beneath the sheets, but I was still in the dress that I’d worn home from Boston. I succeeded in making it to the shower and dressing in fresh clothes before there was a knock on the door. Once again, calling my father became an afterthought.

Nathalie was standing outside the door, looking positively gleeful. She reached forward and gestured for me to move close. My hand was in hers almost immediately as if she’d known the ring would be there.

“Sidney told you?” I asked.

“Sid told a few teammates. Word travels fast. I actually thought you might have eloped during your road trip yesterday.”

I let the tension in my arm fall away, allowing her to get a better look at the bauble. I was still startled whenever it caught the light and sent it glittering back at me. I found myself staring at the large diamond in the center of the setting.

“He has good taste.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “He certainly does.”

She slipped inside and like a woman possessed, she took to the kitchen.

“Nathalie, what are you doing?”

“I’m excited. I cook when I’m excited.”

“Good luck. I’m pretty sure we’re down to some moldy wheat bread and a bottle of mustard.”

“Then you need to come over to the house. I’ll make you a celebratory breakfast.”

I smiled. Clearly, her children weren’t around or didn’t want to be doted upon, leaving her without much to do.

“I need to make a phone call, and then I’ll be over.”

I appreciated her enthusiasm and not having to leave the house to scrounge up something for breakfast. Presumably I would have walked to the café a few blocks away to grab something. But she was saving me the trip.

“Come right in, no need to knock.”

I smiled as she scrambled back to the main house. I watched her as I dialed my father’s number.

He answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Pooh Bear.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“Just wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m touched. So, how are things out east?”

“Fine. Did you watch the games?”

“If you wanna call ‘em that. Hell of a way to go out; if you ask me.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my fiancé how you feel.”

“Don’t do that. I’m sure—“ he stopped short. “Well I’ll be damned. Finally asked you, did he?”

“Friday night.”

“Good. That boy had been holding onto that damn ring for six months. You could already be well on your way to giving me grandchildren by now.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, old man. There will be plenty of time for that.”

He chuckled, but he hadn’t really been joking. He wanted grandchildren to spoil with toys and junk food. Kids to take fishing in the summer and sledding in the winter in the way he once had with me. I was his only shot at becoming a grandfather.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“Elated.”

“Good. I’m happy for you. Tell that fiancé of yours to remember what I told him.”

“And what would that be?”

“He’ll know.”

We didn’t linger on the phone. We never did. I simply ended the called by telling him that I’d let him know when we had news for him about grandchildren. He chuckled in response, and as soon as I hung up, I took a second to shoot a text to Sebastian.

-I’m engaged!

I was halfway through a three-course brunch that Nathalie had prepared for me when Sidney walked into the house.

“News travels fast,” he said, kissing me on the temple.

“It certainly does.”

There was a plate in front of him before either of us spoke another word. Not that we were given a chance to speak as Nathalie flitted around like an over-excited hummingbird. She rarely stopped or even slowed down, always finding something to do to keep her hands busy.

The questions tumbled from her mouth as Sidney and I glanced back and forth from her to one another.

She wanted to know when the wedding was and where we would have it. She questioned style and color scheme as if I’d had a chance to think about all of the details. I certainly didn’t know what I wanted on the menu. Sidney and I had talked about it in short, but not to the point that we could possibly give her any answers.

“First we have to get settled in the house and get a little summer under our belts. We’ve got time to make decisions,” Sidney assured her as he took my hand. “We’ll keep you informed.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. She slowed down for a moment. “I just love weddings.”

“You’ve got daughters to marry off,” Austin kidded as he wandered into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the refrigerator.

“Don’t even Joke, Austin. Your sisters aren’t old enough to get married.”

“In some countries, they’re too old to marry off.”

He left the room and Nathalie sat down at the island. It was the first time I’d seen her still all morning.

“Congrats, you guys!” Austin’s voice carried from upstairs. “There better be cake!”

“Who says you’re invited?” Sidney called in return. After a beat, he called out again, “Thanks, bud!”

“Cake!”