Je t'aime, tu sais?

Patrice felt emotionally overwhelmed. Again.
"Y'know, Bergy?"
He felt his coach's heavy hand on his shoulder. The two sat in front of Patrice's stall as he dressed for the Winter Classic. The guys had just returned from a light lunch and were all walking around the ball park with their significant others and families. Patrice had left Gretta and Guill to their own devices in the park, on the phone with he and Guill's parents and taking pictures for Patrice. He sat in front of his stall with his pants, shin pads, sock and skates laced. He held his shoulder pads between his legs as his elbows rested on his shoulder. Claude had come in looking for a clip board and seeing him in such a position had decided to approach the forlorn looking centerman.
Patrice turned his head and raised his eyes to meet the experienced eyes of Claude Julien.
"I'm always here to talk," his coach assured him. "Now, I don't know what's biting ya in the ass, but, I can see it in your face. It's not interfering with your play at all, but, I can see your frustration..." an awkward silence passed. "I know you Bergy, I care for you, you're not just a player to me; I know something is on your mind."
The locker room door banged open and Tyler Seguin entered in a sweat suit with Nathan Horton at his heals.
"Sup boys," he said, heading to his stall and pulling his shirt forward and off of his back.
Claude turned his attention back to Patrice and looked him firmly in the eyes. "Ok?"
The door swung open again bringing cold air from outside the park; more men began to flood the stall space and laughter and chatter became loud.
Patrice met his coach's eyes one last time and gave a firm nod, moving to slide his shoulder pads over his head and fasten them around his taught chest. Claude stood up and placed his hand on the top of Patrice's head and nodded as he walked to his makeshift office space.
Ference took a heavy seat behind him, flanked by his two beautifully blonde daughters.
"Stella, Ava," Patrice welcomed then, nodding at each little girl.
"Patrice!" Ava squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. "Dad says you'll help me skate, that you'll help hold my hand!"
"You bet," Patrice said excitedly.
"You need your skates first, knuckle head," Ferry said, guiding her by the elbow between his knees and slipper her into her skates. She giggled at Patrice over her father's bent back as he leaned forward to lace the tiny shoes for her.

Jamie stood with Guill and Gretta in their first row seats next to the players' bench in the light, cold snow of Fenway Park. She had not seen Patrice yet, but sweat with anticipation of his appearance. Alex had come over for breakfast in the morning and they had decided on her outfit. She wore thick, dark jeans, high Sorrel boots grey with fur, and her black down jacket that draped to her knees, even though she swore she never needed it for another other place but home. Alex had also secured a knitted hat tightly around Jamie's curled hair, just in case it snowed; which it had started too.
Fenway looked beautiful flooded for the game. A few players had taken to the ice, dressed in gear and uniform but lacking gloves so that they could hold hands with their children, family members or significant others. Jamie laughed at how hulking Milan looked in his attire holding a big bundle of pink blankets and moving so cautiously and gracefully with his precious cargo.
Guill spoke swiftly in French on the other side of Gretta to he and Patrice's parents at home in Quebec.
"Yes, it is, but not so badly," he said, referring to the snow. "It is magnificent, you really should have come, dad... I know Patrice doesn't mind either way, but it is really amazing."
"Patrice's mom hates to fly," Gretta told Jamie. "She's a very nervous woman."
"Must have been interesting having to watch Patrice grow up in such a dangerous sport," Jamie thought aloud. She could only imagine bringing such a boy into the world to have his thrown around at such a fast pace. She then worried about her worrying about him. Need she be so attached already? After one series of kisses?
"Very." Gretta laughed. "According to Guill, at least."
"Yes, he has a... a friend here as well," Guill said, his voice dipping a bit quieter as he made quick, awkward eye contact with Jamie. Jamie blushed and bit her lip; this was usually why she avoided any kind of romantic relationship: the awkwardness of starting them out, or ending them.
"She's very sweet, dad... no--ok, hi mom," Guill laughed, rolling his eyes at Gretta, blushing slightly. "Yes, Patrice has a friend here... yes, a girl." His eyes widened and he quickly pulled the cell phone away from his ear and grimacing.
"Oh my gosh, come," Gretta said, also slightly embarrassed at the whole situation. She ushered her knew friend a few seats away where Milan had found his way to the boards and was passing his daughter off to his wife, Brittany. "I'm sorry. She gets really excited about non-hockey events in Patrice's life; he's just been dedicated for so long and she often fought with Pierre, their father, about how balanced or unbalanced his life was, or is rather," she shrugged. Gretta stopped before they reached the Lucics and faced Jamie. "This is probably all really weird," she confessed, blushing and laughing awkwardly. "I'm really sorry; Patrice is an amazing guy, really. He's very close with his family, his brother, his friends, and he's very dedicated to his profession. He has a lot of people that care for him in return. He's just never... really had someone romantically involved with him; God, he'd be so embarrassed for me saying so much. But really, he's an amazing man, I love him very much, and he will make someone some day incredibly happy, but, I'm just sorry if he's a bit awkward or slow at the whole... dating thing. He's just a bit out of touch."
Jamie laughed bashfully. "I think he's quite sweet," She said, biting her lip and looking down. "And I honestly can't remember the last time I was in a relationship, either."
"Hey! You made it!" Milan beamed, noticing Gretta and Jamie near by him. He waved them over.
"Of course," Jamie said, flashing him a smile and a quick wave.
"Jamie, this is my wife, Brittany, and my baby girl, Valentina," he said, nuzzling the baby cradled in his wife's arms and straightening up to gently bump noses with Brittany.
"You have a beautiful daughter," Jamie smiled, allowing Valentina to hold onto her finger and stare at her with big eyes.
"Thank you," Brittany said, smiling warmly.
"I take it you haven't seen Bergy, yet, since he's literally freaking out in the locker room," Milan laughed. "Oh?" Jamie asked, nervously tilting her head.
"Milan," Brittany scolded, thumping him on his chest pad.
"Ow, what? He's all nervous; I've never seen anything like it! The man's an animal yet sugar in his oatmeal and a pretty girl throw his game," Milan justified, laughing and shrugging his shoulders. "He's a one of a kind." Brittany rolled her eyes, giving Jamie and Gretta a "men, good grief" look. They smiled and Jamie blushed.

"Yup, here ya go," Patrice grunted, lifting Ava from the bench and delicately placing her on the ice. She immediately took hold of his hand and looked eagerly for her father's on her other side. Stella, her older sister, only needed her father's other hand to skate upright.
"What if she doesn't come?" Patrice worriedly asked his friend. Ferry laughed and shook his head.
"Will you relax, Bergy? I've never seen you so uptight about anything except incorrect ingredient listings of food labels."
"Oh, come on!" Patrice said, making himself laugh a bit. Ferry was right though; what was his problem? He felt a wave of frustration and nausea come over him again as he remembered Claude broaching him in the empty locker room. "What's wrong, eh, Patrice?" He had said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You've got that faraway look in your eyes I can't say I've ever really seen before."
Patrice shook his head as Ava gently squeezed his hand. He looked at the small girl next to him.
"Don't worry Patrice," she said, looking up at him with her neck craned back. She wiggled her fuzzy, green gloved fingers between his big knuckled ones. "Your friend will come; I would if I were her."
"See? She speaks the truth!" Ferry laughed, nodding to their left. Patrice whirled around, careful not to knock Ava over. It was Jamie. She was small and beautiful and wrapped up in a long black down coat and a knit hat. She wore her white gloves and a matching scarf and she was laughing at something Milan or Brittany had said. Patrice's stomach dropped. He couldn't even make out the small details of her face but he knew he wanted to kiss her rosy cheeks and press her to him.
"Is she your GIRLfriend?" Stella asked, peering down at him from the other side of her father and sister.
"Stella, come on," Ferry said, shaking her hand in his. "Manners?" They heard her mumble a "sorry" and Ferry laughed, rolling his eyes.
"Let's go meet her! Let's go meet her!" Ava chanted, jumping up and down on her skates and falling. Patrice and Ferry lifted her before she could touch the ice and righted her back on the surface.

"You are my friend Patrice's friend," a beautiful little blonde girl said to Jamie from Patrice's arms, smiling with her missing front teeth.
"I am," Jamie giggled, smiling back.
"I'm Ava," the girl said, extending her green gloved hand.
"I'm Jamie," Jamie said, shaking it. Patrice sat Ava on the boards of the rink, careful to secure an arm around her back. Brittany hugged the girl from behind and Milan tossed some snow from his skates at Stella who skated up with Ferry.
"Come on," Stella said to Milan. "Manners?" She sounded extremely like her father, and generated a few laughs amongst the crowd. Milan pulled the little girl into his hip and gave her a hug, calling her a squirt and dropping a few more flakes of snow in her hair.
Jamie returned her gaze to Patrice, who welcomed it with a warm smile. He was dressed almost completely save for his helmet and gloves. With his hulking shoulder pads his neck and head looked even more fit and taught, and Jamie felt herself swooning for the hockey player.
"You came," Patrice smiled. Jamie returned the gesture and said, "of course." He looked remotely calm to her, not nervous like Milan had divulged. She felt herself beaming in his presence, and blushed as she noticed she hadn't recognized the appearance of Andy or his other daughter.
"Hi Andy," she said, smiling at him over Patrice's shoulder.
"James, how are you?" he asked, smiling in return.
"James? That's a BOY'S name!" Ava said, disgusted.
"Come ON!" Ferry and Stella said to Ava. "Manners!"
Ava bowed her head and mumbled a "sorry," much like her sister had. The adults laughed and Jamie found the two girls absolutely beautiful and remarkably charismatic, much like their father.
"Would you like to come skating?" Patrice asked Jamie, his smile widening.
"Me? I haven't got any skates!" Jamie laughed, biting her lip.
"I brought old ones; they wouldn't fit the best but you wouldn't have to do much, I could guide you around."
"Patrice is a good friend to skate with, he's really good. And he'll hold your hand, even!" Ava announced, laughing at her big friend and scrunching up her nose at him. He scrunched his at her and gently bumped her cheek with it as she shrieked in laughter.
"I'm a good hand-holder, too!" He said, holding her back as he continued to tickle her with his day old beard and nose.
"Go play with your friend! Go play with her instead!" Ava screamed, laughing uncontrollably. Ferry who was now free from Stella as she rough housed with Milan grabbed Ava from Patrice and skated with her held high above his head, declaring they were going to go make snow angels on the rink.
"Not without me!" Stella declared, grabbing Milan's hand and asking him to join. Patrice took the moment of adorable chaos to turn to Jamie and flash her another smile.
"Please?" he asked.
"When's the next time you'll be able to say you've skated in Fenway Park?" Brittany asked Jamie, an eyebrow raised. She bit her lip and looked at Patrice again, who had come off the ice and stood in the players' bench ready to head to the locker room.
"Ah, ok; but no laughing if I fall!" She said, marching over to meet him in the box.
"It's impossible for you to fall! You're Canadian!" Gretta called after the two.
"Exactly," Patrice whispered, helping her step down into the box and holding her hand.