The Right Thing

Whoever it was that decided we should get married on Sidney’s twenty-sixth birthday was an idiot of epic proportions.

I was an idiot.

I’m still not sure what I was thinking. Impulsive decisions have never been the norm for me, but it had been just that. No one plans a wedding in two months unless they are dying or pregnant. I was neither, but I was likely to lose my mind long before August seventh finally rolled around.

If I survived that long.

Sidney was trying to give me space, but there wasn’t much space to be had. The big cabin on the lake was feeling terribly small as the plans and deadlines were closing in on me.

It was better than it had been before we’d returned to Canada. Our hotel suite in California was stifling as the stress set in. Sidney did what he could to make me more at ease, but it was a struggle with the way that I was feeling.

It took nearly a week of arguments from Sidney to convince me to hire a coordinator. It was July by the time I finally admitted that doing everything myself simply wasn’t working. I needed to let a professional take charge, but my issues with control were becoming quite clear. I’d been obsessing and doing most of the planning from a distance while Sidney was training in California. It wasn’t until we got to Halifax at the end of June that Sid started to really push the issue.

“You’re going to have a stroke at the age of twenty-five, Wyn. We don’t have to do this.”

“The invitations will be sent within the week, Sidney. I rush ordered a dress and that wasn’t in the least bit inexpensive.”

In fact, I’d made a one-day trip to Halifax from California to be fitted for the dress with Sidney’s mother and sister in tow. It had been a big production that I’d never expected and we weren’t even close to having the things accomplished that we needed to. The list just kept growing and my stress level was increasing with each passing day.

“We’re well past the point of no return, Sid.”

I was close to tearing my hair out.

I’d be bald by the wedding.

It wasn’t supposed to be such a stressful thing. Sidney wasn’t stressed, but all he had to do was call a couple of buddies and get himself fitted for a tux. That was the only work that really fell on his shoulders as he worked at getting back up to game weight as the summer progressed. We weren’t in the same boat. Frankly we were in completely different oceans.

When we got back to Halifax, he was only around for a few days before heading to Prince Edward Island to train for a few days. He didn’t have to deal with the things at home and had limited exposure to all of the work that went into planning a wedding.

It didn’t help my frustration levels in the slightest.

“Have you thought about getting a wedding planner? It isn’t like we can’t afford it, babe. It would take some of the pressure off of you, let you relax a bit.”

“I can fucking handle it, Sidney!”

“I know that, honey,” he defended. “I’m not questioning your ability here. I’m just not sure that you need to do all the goddamn work. Delegate some of the tasks so you can enjoy what’s left of your summer.”

“What’s not to enjoy?” I snapped.

“You were crying into your cereal this morning and when I asked you what was wrong you told me to go suck a dick. I think it’s safe to say that you’re more than a little overwhelmed by all of this. That’s natural; anyone would be pretty stressed out.”

I glared at him. It wasn’t new. I spent most of my time at least a little bit upset with him. It wasn’t his fault and he took it all in stride. I was the one who came up with the bright ideas and he was the one who went along with them. I knew that I had to change something before I ended up slaughtering Canada’s golden goose.

I hired a coordinator out of Dartmouth to handle the details that were left. The reception was in her hands. It was a big soiree in Halifax that we’d decided to schedule for the day after the wedding. We were holding it in a ballroom and inviting our extended families as well as just about everyone else that we knew. Over a hundred of them had already confirmed that they’d be attending the dinner and dancing and there were at least two-hundred who had up until the middle of July to let us know whether we’d see them.

That number alone was enough to make my stomach churn.

But Morgan, our planner, seemed undeterred.

Sidney acted as though none of it bothered him. He simply took it all in stride, like it was nothing out of the ordinary.

I envied him that.

I was fitted for my dress for the third time in early July. It wasn’t a custom dress, just one that I’d fallen in love with the moment I stepped into it. But I had chosen one that needed to fit perfectly from the neckline to the hem and everywhere in-between. I would have been better off with a ball gown, but that was the last thing I’d wanted.

All of my friends back in the states were partying their asses off, celebrating freedom with beers and barbeques. I was trying like hell not to lose my mind; doing everything that I could to avoid having a breakdown in a pretty dress in front of my future in-laws.

“Are you doing okay, sweetie?” Trina asked as the seamstress pinned the dress. “You look exhausted; and I mean that in the nicest way possible.”

I looked like hell, and I was well aware of that fact. The circles under my eyes seemed to take up more of the landscape of my face than my cheekbones did. They were dark enough that it looked like I’d been in a fight at some point and I don’t think anyone would have put it past me. I was sure my level of exhaustion made me look like a crazy person.

I was starting to feel like a crazy person most of the time.

“Sidney says that I need to let go of the reins a little bit.”

“Maybe you do. You have the planner for a reason. It’s her job to worry about things. She’s the one that needs to deal with the caterers and the DJ. You just need to worry about getting yourself to the altar in one piece.”

“I never pictured you as the type to need a dream wedding,” Taylor commented as she lounged in the chair next to her mother.

“I never was that type. I’m not that person. I don’t know. Maybe that’s the problem.”

“Maybe the problem is that you’re trying too damn hard to impress someone who doesn’t need to be impressed in the slightest.”

“What?” I asked; wincing as I took a pin to the back of my thigh. It was my fault for fidgeting. I was always fidgeting, unable to keep myself still.

“Wyn, you could show up in a pair of overalls or a freaking potato sack and my brother wouldn’t care. As long as you’re there and someone tells him to kiss his bride, nothing else matters to him.”

She had a point. But it wasn’t enough to soothe my tattered nerves.

“Why aren’t you trying on your dress?”

“Because, I’ve already been fitted twice. Besides, I’m too tall and they had to order mine specially and it isn’t in yet. Nicole will be in the week before the wedding and we’ll both get our final fittings done.”

“How can you be so nonchalant, Taylor?”

“Because the fate of the world doesn’t hinge on my ability to fit into a black bridesmaid dress. Besides, I’m a goalie, I’m trained to keep my cool.”

She wandered off and I sent Trina a pleading look.

“I know you’re stressed out, sweetie, but she has a solid point, Bronwyn. I’m sure you’ll feel better after your bachelorette party.”

I sighed. “I don’t have time for a bachelorette party. I barely have time to sleep.”

“You have plenty of time for both. You’ve accomplished more planning in four weeks than most women manage in four months. You’ll be fine. You’ve earned a weekend at the spa with your friends and family.”

Friends and family.

It hit me like a sack full of rocks to the side of the head.

My bridal party was sparse, just my soon to be sister-in-law and my old college roommate would accompany me at the altar. Sid would have Kris and his good friend Jack to stand up for him, but he’d had a huge pool to select from.

His bachelor party would be loud, raucous, and probably a little illegal.

My party would be quiet and wouldn’t have much of a guest list as far as I was aware.

The part that hurt more than anything was the fact that my mother wouldn’t be there.

It was part of the reason I’d thrown myself into the act of planning everything. It was why I’d insisted that I do everything and only take Sidney’s opinion into account. It was a coping mechanism, a way to avoid thinking about her absence. I’d hoped it would help.

It didn’t.

I still missed her so much that it caused me physical pain and it had been years since I’d missed her so much.

It was the third time that I cried that day. I’d cried over burnt toast and traffic. But neither of those things mattered. Unlike my first two breakdowns of the day, the third one was in full view of Sidney’s mother and she was there with her arms around me as soon as the tears began to flow down my cheeks.

It was like she’d seen it coming and had simply been waiting for her cue to step in and be my shoulder to cry on.

“She’s here with you, Bronwyn. I’m sure she wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

I didn’t ask her how she knew why I was crying, I just let her hold me.

“You have to step back and let the planner do her job. You’re supposed to enjoy this; it’s only going to happen once. When you’re feeling stressed, just remember how much you love Sidney and remember how much he loves you. Sidney would do anything for you. Absolutely anything and he would never want to see you so upset over something you should both be excited about.”

She let go of me and the seamstress handed me a tissue.

“You can go ahead and get dressed,” she murmured.

I was sure she’d seen plenty of brides cry. I didn’t let myself feel too badly about it.

“You look gorgeous in that dress, Wyn.” Taylor had wandered back in, pretending that she didn’t see the streaks of makeup on my face. “Sid’s picking you up for lunch in ten minutes.”

“I have so much to—“

Trina cut me off. “Let the planner do her job and for goodness sakes, let people help you.”

I nodded and shuffled off to change back into my street clothes. I used a wet-nap from the far reaches of my purse to wipe away the tear stained makeup. I pulled my hair back. I still looked exhausted, perhaps worse than earlier without any makeup to cover the blotchiness and dark circles.

Taylor and Trina left to arrange things for our spa day and Sidney pulled up just as I stepped outside.

“You’ve been crying again,” he commented as I jumped up into the Tahoe. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were pregnant.”

There had been a false alarm at the end of June, just when we’d gotten settled in Halifax. Three tests and my period starting over a week late, proved it to be stress-induced. Sidney had started to get his hopes up and I could only imagine how my father would feel about it seeing as how he was becoming obsessed with the idea of grandchildren. I hated to admit it, but I’d almost let myself settle into the idea of being pregnant as well.

But it wasn’t the right time.

“I haven’t been crying that much.”

“The pickle jar that wouldn’t open. The morning you couldn’t find the keys. The hot water ran out while you were in the shower. That old Mariah Carey song you like came on the radio. The missing sunglasses debacle; you know, when they were actually on top of your head.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“No, I’m not. I’m just wondering where my unflappable fiancée went. The woman who called me on my bullshit and called me a jackass when my father showed up to crash our party last summer. The one who refused to move to Pittsburgh because she had her own life to live and wasn’t ready to step into the orbit of my life. My tough as nails, puts up with all of my shit and none of it at the same time, fiancée. She’s gone missing and I’d like to find her before I marry the stranger that she’s been replaced by. Frankly, I suspect aliens.”

“I’m not a stranger.”

“Then stop acting like one.” He pulled the car into the parking lot of our favorite Thai restaurant. “You think I don’t see that you’re pushing me away, but I do. We decided on a small wedding to avoid all of this nonsense. It’s our wedding. We should be happy.”

“Yeah, we decided on a small wedding. But the reception has a guest list that’s equal to the population of my hometown.”

“Then we cancel the party. I don’t care about the fucking party! I don’t care if there’s cake or an open bar. I don’t give a shit if people have chicken or fish. We could have a mime troupe instead of a DJ if that’s what makes you happy. All I care about is that Bronwyn Abigail Doyle, the love of my life, marries me. I just want us to be happy and I need to know that the woman I love will still love me when all is said and done.”

“I do love you, Sidney. I’m just…stressed.”

“I know. I want to help, but I don’t know what to do. Mom says that I just need to be here for you and I’m trying to do it.”

It was no wonder that Trina had expressed concern at the dress shop. He’d been calling on reinforcements without my knowledge.

“Mom got married without her father there to walk her down the aisle. She had an older brother who did it, but he wasn’t a replacement for her dad. I know that you wish your mom was here, I wish she was as well. I know you want her to help you pick a dress and talk you out of whatever cold feet you might have on the seventh.

“My mom can’t replace her; no one can. But just please remember that we’re here for you. I’m here for you. And I know that your mom is looking down watching you and I’m sure that she’s incredibly proud of you.”

I was crying again as Sidney pulled me towards him. The console between us was an awkward barrier, but it didn’t deter him. He did what he could to soothe me.

“Did your sister tell you?” I asked quietly.

“Tell me what?”

“That I was crying about this at the dress shop.”

“No. Taylor said you were being a bit of a bridezilla and she thought you needed a day off. In fact, she told me that you needed to step off the wedding train before she pushed you off.”

I chuckled.

“Did my mom have any advice?”

“She just said the same thing you did. People love me and I love you.”

“You realize that out of all of this madness, that’s the only important thing?”

I nodded.

“Wyn, we can still call this off. We can press pause and push this back. Hell, we can elope tomorrow if that’s what you want. I have nothing against getting married at city hall or in Vegas. I don’t care.”

“You want a real wedding as much as I do.”

“Not at the expense of your happiness.”

My stomach growled audibly.

“Let’s get lunch to go. We’ll eat at home and take the rest of the day off.”

“But—“

“No. I’ve been gone for days training and I miss you. I just want to sit in the comfort of our home and share a meal with you.
“We’ll meet with Morgan tomorrow and give her the green light. She knows our budget and our taste. We’ll let her run with it. I’m not paying her good money to handle a seating chart that I know you will change anyway. From here on out, we let her earn her pay.”

“Sidney, I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right you will. But if you argue with me about stepping back and giving up some of this control, I will call it off. I love you too much to put you through all of this craziness, Wyn. Enough is enough. Let’s just let Morgan do her job. She’s good at it. If she needs us to taste cakes or something, that’s fine. Otherwise, I’m more than comfortable letting her take this on.”

“So sayeth the man who couldn’t let his contractors and designers do their jobs.”

“Different. We’re going to be living in that house for at least the next twelve years. We’re going to raise a family there. It has to work for us. The wedding is just one day of our lives.”

“You knew you were building a family home from the beginning; and it’s technically two days.”

“I didn’t know the woman that I would be sharing the house with until I figured out that you were it for me. By last August, I decided that some plans needed to be adjusted to make the house work for us.”

My art room had been added. The master bath had become more of a spa than a powder room. Little things were tweaked and tampered with every time he met with his contractor for the sake of sharing the home with me. All long before he’d even bought the ring that he’d held onto for so long.

“What if I back off and something goes wrong?”

“What could go wrong? Broasted chicken instead of surf’n’turf? Chocolate cake instead of white? Peonies instead of roses?”

“Yes.”

“No! None of that matters. We matter. You want to show up in yoga pants and an old Pens hoodie? Go for it. Bridesmaid stuck in Boston? Oh well, we’ll shove Sebastian in a fucking dress. If you’re there and I’m there and the preacher says we’re married then there is nothing else in the world that matters. Just us. As long as by the end of the circus you’re my wife; all is well.”

He went inside and picked up our lunch. He was smiling when he returned to the car.

“What?” I asked as he handed off the bags of takeout.

“I just talked to Flower.”

“If it’s about your bachelor party, I really don’t want to know. In fact, let’s just delegate it to Morgan.”

“Funny. But he has a serious question for you.”

“What?”

“Your thoughts on strippers.”

“Sidney,” I groaned.

“He really wants to know.”

Jack was Sid’s best man, but he was spending most of his off-season at defensive camps before the season kicked off and he found himself headed back to Columbus. He was actually skipping a week-long camp in order to be in the wedding. Marc had offered to take on the roll seeing as how Kris was just as busy as his fellow groomsman; spending the summer training in Montréal.

“Opinion; I don’t particularly care as long as you don’t touch them. But think about it, in this world of camera phones and twitter, how wise would that be for you? It’s already been a busy off-season for bad behavior. Just go get drunk and go golfing or something. I really don’t think that strippers are a necessity. Don’t risk a PR kerfuffle.”

“Kerfuffle?”

“Fuck you.”

“So I should tell Marc…”

“Strippers are fine but at your own risk. But I will have you know that I give much better lap dances.”

“Do you want me to include the lap dance part when I call him back?”

I slapped his arm as he pulled the car out onto the street and headed back towards Grand Lake.

“Fine, I’ll tell him to come up with some fresh ideas. Though I think drunk golf sounds like a lot of fun. What’s the plan for your bachelorette party?”

“Spa. Your sister is underage and my aunt is fifteen-years sober so it’s not going to be some rousing party.”

“How many girls?”

I shrugged. “Taylor and Nicole are in charge of the whole thing. I’m not allowed to be in on it.”

“They’re aware of how much you love surprises, right?”

“Aware. Neither of them seem to give a shit.”

“That’s sweet of them.”

We drove back to the house without another word. I still had a list of about a million things that I felt like I needed to accomplish and I knew that handing the power over to a woman that I didn’t know was going to be more than a little difficult for me.

Sidney could see that I was overthinking things, but he waited until we were back at the cabin to make a comment.

“You can’t get so stressed about the little things,” he said as he unloaded the food onto the kitchen counter.

“None of this is little,” I replied; retrieving plates and silverware.

“I know it doesn’t feel little, but it is. In the long run, at least.”

I gave him a doubtful look.

“C’mere,” he murmured, holding his arms out towards me.

I shuffled across the kitchen and let him wrap his arms around me. I breathed him in, his heady scent clearing my head and calming me down. I’d forgotten how comforting it was having his body wrapped around mine when I was feeling overwhelmed.

“The food is going to get cold.”

“We have a microwave.”

“You’re sure it will be okay in Morgan’s hands?”

“She’s a pro. She has my full permission to use my name to get whatever we need to make sure things go off without a hitch.”

“That isn’t your M.O.”

“No, but sometimes you’ve got to pull a few strings to plan a wedding in two months.”

It hit me, once again, that I’d been the one that wanted to exchange vows on Sidney’s birthday. It had been my great idea and he’d simply gone along with it to make me happy. I loved him for it, though I wished he’d put up some sort of a fight instead of letting me run with such a terrible idea.

I had been tipsy on wine after a celebratory dinner with the Lemieux’s and a few of Sidney’s teammates. I suspected that James and Marc had been topping off my drink whenever I wasn’t looking. They’d likely been taking turns making sure that I was never without a drink. Whatever the cause, my glass was never quite empty.

Clearly, they’d enjoyed my little display at Diesel and wanted a replay before they dispersed for the summer.

Given the way their season had ended, it was nice for a number of them to get together and have fun before heading in different directions. They got to share in some amount of joy, enjoying each other’s company and not talking about the loss. No one talked about the possibility that some of them wouldn’t be back in the fall either. It wasn’t what the gathering was about.

Sid and I were engaged and he wasn’t going to be the only member of the team getting married in short order. Marc and Vero had a little girl to enjoy and Kris would be spending his first summer with his son. We all knew he would soon be proposing to Catherine before the summer was over. They were all bright spots to help heal from a terrible end of the season.

The next season wouldn’t be held up and everyone would get back to a normal schedule. It was something they were all looking forward to. It would begin as it was meant to and it didn’t go unmentioned that for the first time in his NHL career, Sidney wouldn’t be living on Mario’s property any longer.

The wine and the music had gone to my head as James pulled me away for a dance on the pool deck while Sidney splashed around in the water.

“You’re going to take good care of my captain, right?” he asked.

I smiled. I enjoyed James, as relentless as he could be at times. His arm was snaked around my waist, the other hand holding a can of beer away from us in an effort not to spill as we swayed to the song on the radio.

“I intend to, James.”

“Is he going to get jealous that I’m dancing with his girl?”

I shook my head. “Not a chance. He’s the one that gets to take me home tonight.”

“He’s a lucky man,” James replied.

“I’m a lucky woman.”

My gaze fell to Sidney as he pulled himself out of the pool. His hair was freshly cropped and his temporary teeth filled the gap that I’d grown so used to. He looked remarkably like he had when we’d first met but the addition of water glistening on his chest at twilight was enough to make my head spin.

The wine didn’t help matters.

I kissed James on the cheek, the ring on my finger catching the light, drawing me towards Sidney like a magnet.

I tried to keep my hands to myself as the party broke up, but it was a hefty challenge to surmount.

It was the last night that we’d spend in the mostly-empty guest house. It wouldn’t be long before we were in California to kick off our summer. By July we’d be back in the Maritimes.

We’d arranged it all, his schedule plotted out down to the minute.

During our last night in Pittsburgh, none of that mattered. We made the most of the one night that we had.

It was late and the wine buzz was settling down when I found myself playing with the charm on his necklace. We were laying in the moonlight as it cut through the room. The light caught the stones in my ring and the gold chain on Sidney’s neck that I’d never seen him without.

I stared at the charm.

“Let’s get married on your birthday,” I murmured.

“That’s two months away, Wyn.”

“I know, but it would be perfect.” That may have been the wine talking. “You’re lucky number is eighty-seven and mine is thirteen so if we got married on eight-seven-thirteen how could we lose?”

We could lose our minds, but the wine and the buzz of his skin against mine were too much to fight off.

“It’s a lot to shove into two months.”

“Not for a small affair in your backyard.”

“Our backyard,” he corrected. “It’s a lot, babe. But if you’re up for it, I’m not going to argue. I’d be crazy to. Hell, I’d marry you tomorrow if that’s what you wanted.”

I hadn’t been that drunk, but by July, I was wishing that I had been. I would have been feeling a lot more sane if we’d just eloped and been done with it.

I was finally starting to see the drunken corner that I’d painted myself into, but the decision to allow Morgan to do her job was likely the best one that I would make as a bride-to-be.

He let go of me and we finally settled in to share our lunch.

I’d decided to let go of my issues with control. I was going to let Morgan do the planning and I was going to take a step back.

I wasn’t sure what I would do with my time. I hadn’t been working since we’d decided to get married. I hadn’t taken on any projects or been in contact with any potential clients in the time we’d been away from Pittsburgh. I hadn’t meant for it to happen, but with all of the travel and planning, I’d wound up on hiatus without even trying.

Everything was finally falling into place with her at the helm. Sidney was clearly happy to have the old me back and I was sleeping better. When Sidney wasn’t training, we were enjoying our summer in Halifax in much the same way as we had the summer before.

Morgan clearly had everything under control. Within days we had a DJ, a photographer, and a caterer. All signed non-disclosure agreements making our secret wedding easier to pull off. It would keep the press and fans from descending on Halifax like a plague of locusts. For many of them, they regarded the day Sidney Crosby got married as a national holiday. We didn’t want that to happen.

The menu was set, the cake was ordered, and the RSVP’s were being handled by the planner and not the frazzled bride.

“You feeling better?” Sidney asked as we sat on the dock behind the cabin.

He’d been away for a couple of days to work with his trainer and a few other players. He’d only been a few hours away, but I missed him terribly as I let go of the wedding reigns and tried to focus on other things.

There were gardeners there readying the yard for the ceremony which was exactly a month away.

It was hard to believe we’d only been back in Nova Scotia for a little over a week. The turnaround had been sudden and overwhelming. I felt like I could breathe easier.

“Yeah,” I replied. “This is much better.”

“You’re not just trying to placate me, are you?”

There he was, using big words again.

“No.”

“Good. I’d be really fucking pissed if you were.”

And he’d transformed quickly back into a hockey player.

“I still feel a little strange not making the little decisions.”

He sent me a look as he recast his line. He’d never caught anything when I’d been watching him fish, but he didn’t seem to mind. He could stand on the dock for hours at a time without a bite and it never stopped him. The fishing pole was really only there to keep his hands busy, his mind was usually somewhere else.

“But the little things don’t matter,” I amended.

“Glad to hear it.”