Big Girl Panties

“Don’t even think about it!” Trixie’s voice was stern and serious as she pointed a finger at Patrick Kane. A small, mischievous smile was plastered on his face. “I swear I’ll beat you; and don’t tempt me.”

Patrick glanced down at the Tupperware container with his eyes growing bigger as he looked back up at Trixie. He was planning his escape route fast in his head. He could head for the sliding door, but then he realized it locked from the inside nor did he feel like sitting out in the cold. Licking his lips, his eyes darted to the front door that had just opened. That was his best bet. “Did you workout at all during the lockout?” He asked.

Trixie placed her hands on her wide, rounded hips after running her sticky fingers under the warm tap water. She could feel a sweat beginning to form at the base of her neck as the condo started to fill with people. “What does that have –“

Seeing his chance, Patrick grabbed the tub which was filled to the brim with Trixie’s famous double chocolate chip cookies. He dashed out of the kitchen quickly cradling the cookies close to his body in case he fell to keep them scattering all over the floor.

“Patrick Timothy!” Trixie yelled as she took off after him. Her heels clicked heavily against the tiled kitchen floor and Trixie almost painfully bumped her hip on the edge of the kitchen table. By the time Trixie caught up, she found the front door slamming shut and for all she knew Patrick was running down the hall with a cookie clamped between his teeth.

She was far too tired and winded to chase after him; Trixie knew she should have made an extra batch. This happened every winter when the team got together at Jonathan Toew’s condo when his parents come to town. They would have an early dinner then all gather in the buildings indoor pool for a math of volleyball. She was contemplating about ratting Pat out to his coach, or maybe it would slip later as they sat around the fire place sipping from wine glasses and champagne flutes.

Leaning against the doorframe, Trixie took a few deep breaths and looked up at Jonathan and Brandon Saad. They were still laughing to the point their faces were beating red and budging veins were visible in their foreheads. She knew why they were laughing and it wasn’t because Patrick had just stolen her cookies.

“What?” She asked, “I’m wearing heels and unlike you robots, I’m not required to workout…at all.”

“Hello everyone,” A pregnant Julia Bolland approached the door wearing a yellow dress and black cardigan while carrying a small platter of food between her hands. Trixie moved aside to let her enter before Julia took attention to the two laughing men. “I’m guessing this has something to do Patrick sitting by the elevator with a tub of cookies in his lap.”

Trixie followed Julia into the kitchen as her husband stopped short to catch up with his teammates in the foyer. She watched Julia uncover the vegetable platter on the kitchen table as she rested her back against the island in the middle of the spacious room.

“You guessed right. He stole the cookies I slaved over all morning. I should have known something was up when he called eight times last night reminding me to bake them.”

Julia chuckled and shook her head as she stole a cucumber slice and nibble on it. “That does sound like something he would do.”

“You’d think he would be a little nicer to me seeing as to how I cancelled my trip to Boston after he had his wrist surgery. If it hadn’t been for me, the kid wouldn’t have had a clean article of clothing or food in his refrigerator.” Trixie grabbed a Mike’s Hard Lemonade for herself from the fridge and a water bottle for Julia. The third line forward’s wife thanked the equipment manager as they walked into the main living room to join the rest of the party.

Quietly mingling with the girlfriends she wasn’t too familiar with—mostly the new acquisitions—Trixie found herself looking over her shoulder often and relieved when there was so sign of him. Maybe he was too hung over or busy snoozing in bed beside the no-named girl he had picked up at the bar the pervious night sometime around last call. But why did she care if he showed up or not? Trixie had made it painfully clear to him last night in a heated drunken argument in his car that what they had was strictly and only sex. Dan had still been pissed off about the morning after he had taken her back to his place after she had gotten plastered at Scout.

”Just stay the night with me, please.” Daniel begged. He hated begging and had only begged one other girl in his life to stay the night.

Trixie was still stuck in her post sex haze which left her vulnerable and she really didn’t want to set an alarm for 7 AM. “Only if you promise to make pancakes in the morning.”

“I’ll make you blueberry pancakes.” Wrapping his arms tight around her frame, Dan could feel her sinking to the warmth his body radiated. One of the few things he did know about her was her inability to resist blueberry pancakes and a cup of Tim Horton’s coffee.

Trixie hadn’t stayed like she agreed to, but rather she snuck out of his condo at 7:05 in the morning wearing one of his hoodies considering she couldn’t find her shirt. When she arrived at the rink on game day, she had found her jacket sitting in the locker room and Dan refused to speak to her until last night.

“What, no boyfriend?” Dave Bolland poked. He was referring to the guy Trixie had been out to dinner with twice in the last five days.

Upon hearing the sound of the front door open and close, Trixie looked over her shoulder and nearly laughed at the sight in front of her. Patrick Kane let out a hard breath as he plopped down into the recliner and rubbed his hard belly.

“How are you feeling?” She asked.

“Not good.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.” Trixie rolled her eyes and reached for her drink. She gave Dave a ‘don’t ask’ look as Patrick grunted, looking as if he were about to vomit.

Realizing why his friend and teammate wasn’t feeling so well, Dave controlled himself from getting up from the couch and strangling the young star. “You ate all the cookies, didn’t you? You selfish son-of-a-bitch.”

“I didn’t eat all of them,” he corrected. “There’s enough for everyone to have a half.”

Turning back to Trixie, Dave looked at her with pleading eyes. This was one of the only days the guys got the okay from their trainers to binge and enjoy all the foods they enjoyed, and Dave Bolland—along with several of the guys—were not so pleased with Patrick.

“Please tell me you made an extra batch. You should have seen this coming; I mean he does it almost every year.”

“Actually, this is only the third time it’s happened.” Patrick felt the need to defend himself.

Trixie shook her head although she knew there was another Tupperware container sitting on the counter of her kitchen. Those weren’t for the guys—they were for her to enjoy with a glass of red wine after a game.

Patrick Sharp waltzed into the front room in an attempt to get the women in the dining room. “You ladies ready to eat?”

Just at the thought of the food, Patrick groaned as he stomach turned again. Although the common sensed person would generally regret their decision of eating a container of rich cookies, Patrick didn’t. Every bite and crumb was worth it—he would get another chance to stuff his face until Coach Q’s annual summer bash, and the summer months seemed years away.

Getting up from her seat on the leather sofa, Trixie purposely gave two hard slaps to Patrick’s abdomen as he nearly curled in to a ball. She followed Niklas and his fiancée into the dining room where she plopped herself down at the large table. To her right, Trixie bumped elbows with Stalberg and ironically enough, to her left slid Andrew Shaw into the chair.

“Want some wine?” Shaw asked her as Mrs. Toews carried a large platter containing a roast to the table.

Grabbing the wine glass that had been set by her plate, Trixie handed it to Shaw to already poured himself a glass. “You really felt it was necessary to ask me that question?”

She took a good sized mouthful of the Merlot once he handed it back to her and Trixie was fairly surprised to see Kaner stagger into the room and claim the chair across from her. Four spaces down from him were two empty seats; she knew exactly who they were meant for.

It always amazed Trixie by the spread Andree put out every year for them she made the trip from Winnipeg. Not to mention she enjoyed spending time with the captain’s mother. The next time when she was to come in for the weekend, Trixie would take her downtown for a girl’s night of steaks, wine and gossip.

“Where the hell’s Celly at?” Seabrook asked.

Trixie found his name being brought up deserved her another sip of her wine. They started passing the dozens of dishes around the table.

“Probably with the whore he picked up last night.”

Most of the guys nearly dropped their forks or controlled the wine that threatened to come out of their noses from laughter. The chatter around the table seemed to suddenly stop as well.

“Am I sensing a little hostility and possibility jealousy from Trixie O’Callahan?” Sharp wiped his mouth and eyed the woman,

Abby played on her husband’s previous statement. “Does someone have a small crush on Daniel Carcillo?”

Patrick Kane knew it was in his best interest to stay silent at the moment. She had just come clean to him no more than twelve hours ago that she and Dan had been sleeping with each other for a little over a year. She had no choice but to tell him; he had cornered her while she was in tears and the alcohol hadn’t helped much either.

“Who Dan bangs is none of my business and I couldn’t careless either.”



After everyone was finished eating and the food had been packed tightly away in containers and Zip-Lock bags, Trixie sat on the edge on the in-ground pool with her feet dangling in the cool water. On several occasions she had to threaten Patrick Kane with physical violence as he splashed her and attempted to drag her under the water. The guys were hounding her to get in the water.

After much pleading from Pat and Jon and her partner in crime on the road, Seabs, Trixie hoisted herself off the concrete floor and quickly headed back up to Jon’s condo to change. Her bag was sitting in the corner of the living room and she occupied the empty bathroom . Trixie changed into her plain black bikini quick not wanting to keep the whining boys waiting any longer than they were. With her luck they were waiting outside the bathroom door to pick her up by the ankles and wrists and carry her to the pool before tossing her in.

It was a tradition she had grown to loath—on the road the guys would sneak into her room and wait for her return from the visiting rink before binding her limbs and carrying her down to the hotel’s pool. Clothes and all they would throw her in and then jump in themselves for a late night swim.

Stuffing her clothes back into the canvas bag, Trixie unlocked the door and turned off the light before stepping out into the hall. She cautiously looked around the corner before completing her trek back down the lower level. A part of her was slightly insulted that they hadn’t tried to pull a stupid stunt, but she was relieved for the fact she could ease her way into the cool water.

“Just jump in,” Patrick’s shoulders were submerged beneath the water and he blew bubbles. “It’s warm.”

Dipping a toe in, Trixie tied her long hair up with the elastic on her wrist and looked to the surface with a blank stare. She thought about jumping in, but she was too much of a baby to do it without any assistance. Patrick’s statement wasn’t a new one by all means. Even as a kid she had convinced her friends to jump in to the ‘warm’ lake when she knew for a fact it was freezing beneath the surface.

Little did she know, Hossa, was slowly tip-toeing his way to Trixie. She was deep in her thoughts and didn’t see the small smile and nod Patrick gave right before the older man picked her up and tossed her into the water. For a small girl Trixie made a fairly large splash and the four men cringed when they heard the slap of her back hitting the water. Not having the chance to prepare herself, Trixie surfaced coughing from the large mouthful of water she had aspirated. Her nose burned from the choline she had sucked up her nasal passages.

“You guys suck!” Trixie half laughed as she pulled her tangled hair from the elastic. Brent saw it as his one opportunity and without warning jumped on her back, dunking her once again.

“Asshole,” Splashing the snickering defenseman, Trixie moved behind Pat and wrapped her arms securely around his neck. She knew if she didn’t keep him close he’d try something next.

“Alright, let’s play some volleyball,” Brent declared. “I pick Trixie; she’s the only one who knows how to play the game fair.”

She smiled sweetly and sarcastically as Trixie swam under the net to meet her teammate on the other side. The two high-fived as Patrick tossed in the ball in the air a couple of times and looked to the annoyed looking Jon. “Looks like you’re with me, cap.”

Not even halfway through their game, Jonathan Toews was already growing mildly frustrated with his teammate. They were down by four points and Jon would be damned if he were going to lose a game to Trixie and Brent. In his mind they weren’t even trying—most of the time they got lucky on their spikes only because Brent picked Trixie up which made her twice as tall as she really was. He tried calling it as a foul; in his rulebook they couldn’t do that.

When Patrick served the ball and it hit the center of the net, Jon slapped his hands into the water and sternly looked over to the smiling man. “Are you serious?”

Trixie couldn’t keep herself from laughing when Brent imitated Jon’s actions.

She caught the ball in midair when Pat tossed it over for her serve. Trixie had the ball balanced in her hand ready to be thrown in the air when it was suddenly snatched from her. Whipping around, her heart almost stopped mid-beat when she came face to face with the one man she hopped to avoid for the day. Or for the rest of the season for that matter.

Daniel Carcillo smiled crookedly as he spun the ball on his index finger. The brunette who wore a tiny, white bikini stayed close to his hip as she gave the once over Trixie was too familiar with. She always wondered why some females became strongly judgmental of her when they realized she was a part of the Blackhawks Organization. Dan had been the only one who she had let her guard down for and fell into bed with. She enjoyed her job far too much to allow any of the other men compromise something that had taken over her life.

“What’s the score?” Dan asked while eyeing Trixie. “I’m joining the winning team.”

At the moment she didn’t even want to be in the same county as him, let alone in the same pool on the same team. Trixie knew there was no way she could lie her way out of being on the losing team as Brent gloated at every opportunity he had if he was better at something then Jonathan. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat as it ached from her holding back tears. Patrick could see her struggle and could heel his own heart break.

“You can play with Brent. It’s getting late; I’m going to head home.” It wasn’t late at all. It was only 9:30 and all Trixie wanted to do was crawl into bed and pull a Patrick. Eat the remaining tub of cookies she had sitting on her kitchen counter.

“C’mon, O.C!” Jon called out. “We’re only halfway through, don’t leave.”

Trixie held it together just long enough to grab her towel and dry off before heading out of the pool area. The pressure of tears pounded her eyes. The second she was alone in the elevator, she pushed the button for the very top floor even though Jon lived in the middle of the building on the fourteenth. Trixie pressed her back against the wall and let the tears flow freely from her eyes.

The reason for her feeling as terrible as she currently did was an unconscious fact and she wished seeing Dan with another woman wasn’t eating her up inside as much as it was. They were fuck buddies; friends with benefits. Not only was she allowed to date and screw whomever she wanted to, so was Dan. But, nevertheless it had killed her and her deep inside her chest her heart was utterly broken.