All That Matters

We spent the time between the preseason and regular season enjoying whatever time we managed to get together. He stayed plenty busy, working on the things that he felt were rusty during the preseason. He wanted to work on the release of his shot and spent hours honing his skills on faceoffs. I saw little of him given that most of his time was spent at the rink. But we enjoyed the time we got together, trying not to take a moment of it for granted.

He was gone for a few days in the interim, working out with the rest of the team at West Point. He’d looked forward to the chance to build as a team and enjoy the change of pace with the new guys that had been added to the roster over the summer. The pace of their workouts had them all exhausted and I was lucky to hear more than a few words from him before he fell into bed and passed out from pure exhaustion, but I could tell that he was having a good time learning about the military and bonding with his team.

I worked at regaining my stride, working on projects that I’d pushed aside while the preseason games had us in full gear all the time. I hadn’t intended for my focus to be on Sid as much as it was, but it had happened without me thinking about it. I was just so happy to see him feeling driven and passionate, and the happiness that hockey gave him simply pulled me in.

I found it easier to concentrate on my work when he was out of the house, and by the time he was about to begin the three game stretch to start the season, all at home, I was finally ready to let him in on what I’d been working on in private.

The fact that I hadn’t told him what I did all day in my art room was driving him crazy. He’d peek in every once in a while, but I’d consistently refused to tell him what I was working on. He would simply sigh, roll his eyes, and leave me to my own devices. He knew that I would let him know what I was doing as soon as I was ready.

I’d spent the better part of my free time building a website and an online store. I’d called in connections, friends from college who could get me some help in building a platform.

My return to physical mediums of art hadn’t been the intention, but once I’d started, I hadn’t had it in me to stop. I had plenty of pieces to sell and needed a way to do it. It was only fair to get my name out as best I could and sell my art from home; the same place I made the pieces I was trying to sell.

Sid asked for a hint every time he popped his head into the room, but I never let him in on what I was working on. If he’d been a more suspicious man, he would have likely given me more grief about how quickly I closed my laptop or tossed a tarp over the canvases that I was working on.

I’d been doing pieces on my own, and I’d been taking clients on smaller jobs. It was rare I delved into anything as far as digital pieces were concerned and it was a welcome change to work with my hands again. I honestly hadn’t believed that I would make the change back to physical mediums, certain that I’d be stuck doing web design until my eyeballs fell out of my skull. I was glad to jump back in with both feet.

I’d discovered a camera that Sidney had purchased and placed in the room during the initial process of stocking the art room for me. It wasn’t odd that I found something in a box or basket that I hadn’t realized was there initially. I’d fooled around with the camera, taking it with me when I wandered the city on my own or took Sam for walks, and had started taking photos for the first time since high school.

It was all fresh and new, an exciting change that I couldn’t have assumed would happen and I wanted everything to be ready before I showed it to Sidney. I wanted everything to be perfect before I let him in on it. I wanted it to be something that was entirely mine.

I pulled him into my art room after he returned from practice just before the start of the season. He was rubbing his shoulder as he walked, sore from getting rubbed into the boards by a teammate. It was no surprise that he’d gotten worked over and I’d insist that he ice it later. He’d already taken a couple of good hits to the face and neck and it was only just beginning; but in that moment I was much more interested in showing him what I’d been hiding away working on since we’d returned to Pittsburgh.

“Finally done hiding everything behind old sheets?” he asked as I pulled him into the room.

“Kind of.”

Nothing was hidden behind sheets anymore. It was all organized, stacked and wrapped in paper. The room was the cleanest it had been since we’d settled into the house and all of it was ready to be sent out as soon as someone decided they needed what they saw on the website. I was feeling excited about it all, just the prospect of having something to fill my time and keep me occupied doing what I loved.

“Okay,” he said as I pulled him through the door and towards my computer. “Show me.”

I sat him down at the workstation. He gave me a sideways glance as if to ask why we were staring at the screen of my computer and what that had to do with what I’d been working on so fervently over the weeks that he’d been so focused on training and camp. I smiled reassuringly and pulled up the webpage.

“There it is.”

He took the mouse from me and scrolled through the page. “Did you design this?”

I nodded as he glanced towards me. He smiled and looked back at the screen clicking from page to page. He sat in silence looking at everything before he turned away from the computer to speak.

He grabbed my wrists, pulling my hands away from the surface of the desk where I’d been leaning. He spun me around before he pulled me gently onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around my torso and rested his chin on my shoulder. I could feel his breath brushing my cheek like a warm breeze.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were working on this?”

“I just…I wanted to have everything up and running before I told you about it.”

“Always so secretive,” he sighed.

“What do you think?”

“I think it’s perfect. You can do your art for you and not just for other people, but this way you can still share it with people. You can let so many people see it and enjoy it.”

“That’s the intention.”

He held me tight. “It will keep you distracted when I’m gone too, eh?”

I smiled. “A girl needs something to keep her busy.”

“Not everyone feels that way.”

He knew that I couldn’t be like the other wives that lived in a world that revolved around the hockey season. I couldn’t let Sidney’s career dictate my life. My parents had raised me to stand on my own, to be independent, not to rely on others. I knew that Sidney would gladly allow me to just live in his world with nothing to call my own; but he would only want that if it gave me happiness. He knew that I wouldn’t be happy sitting at home with nothing to do.

At some point, when we had children, I’d have other things to fill my time. But for the time being, it was best that I had something to focus on that was my own.

He understood that in a way that I appreciated greatly.

I stood and pulled him up with me.

“That’s it?”

“Yep, that’s it.”

“That’s all you’ve been hiding from me in here?”

“It is. Why? What on earth were you expecting?”

“I wasn’t sure,” he admitted.

I didn’t ask him to elaborate as I tugged him towards the kitchen to help me throw something together for dinner.

It was something we’d started doing together, trying to find normal things to do with our time together. We were both people so stuck in our own habits that sometimes we needed to make new ones just in order to spend time together. It seemed silly, but it functioned as a way for us to talk about our days and to stay connected even when we were both clearly distracted.

He was looking forward to the season starting and I was excited for him. The schedule was written out on a series of calendars that kept me aware of when he would be in town and when he would be gone. I’d gone so far as to color code the entries right down to what days they were flying to other cities and what days they were set to come back.

It seemed a little obsessive, but it let me feel like I had some measure of control over something that played a huge role in my life. When I really had no control over it at all. I wasn’t even sure why it made me feel that way, I just knew that I felt a wave of relief when I looked up and saw his schedule spelled out in a way that I could easily keep track of it.

They were starting the season with a series of three games at home before a trip to Florida that I was sure they would all enjoy.

I played the good wife, present at every home game without fail. I was still able to fly under the radar, not really recognizable to anyone who hadn’t seen me with Sidney. But even if they couldn’t have picked me out of a lineup, they knew that I was there. They knew that somewhere in their midst was the mysterious wife that Sidney refused to speak about, always requesting his privacy when someone brought it up.

For that reason alone, Pat and the team were encouraging Sid to make a real announcement. They pushed him to release an actual statement, maybe even a wedding photo. But Sidney was still hesitant. He worried what the more enthusiastic fans may do if they recognized me too easily.

I left it up to him. I knew that my well-being was his main concern and for that I was thankful, but I understood why the others felt like he should make things more public. His being mysterious about things didn’t do either of us any good.

Still, I felt that it was his decision to make.

Besides, after the short season previously and the upcoming announcements about the games in Sochi, Sidney felt like he had bigger fish to fry. Frankly, I agreed with him. Our marriage and the way it related to the public was the least of his worries.

They won their season opener then traded off two nights later with a loss. There was a decided lightness to Sidney, a joy that came along with a new season. It helped that the sportswriters had something better to talk about than his personal life and a dramatic response to his trip to the DMV; it didn’t stop them entirely, but there was an improvement. Things quieted and they were willing to focus more on his game and the team as a whole.

We spent the days between games quietly, most of it at home with little concern for the outside world. He was adjusting, little by little, growing more comfortable with the possibility of me being in public without it causing him to panic.

The day before their game against Carolina, I woke to the sight of him watching me sleep. His hair was mopped back, slick with sweat. Clearly he’d spent the early morning hours in the home gym that I used more often than he did.

“Morning,“ I murmured.

He smiled and propped himself on his elbows as he lay next to me.

“Happy anniversary.”

I chuckled. We’d officially been married for two months and it had been an interesting two months to say the least. The first few weeks of our marriage had been all about travel and his time at the Olympic camp in Calgary. The next few had simply been the two of us trying to settle in. We were trying to get used to our new way of existing in our new home. We were finally settling in and though life was busy, it was a relief.

“Did you get me a present?” I asked playfully.

“Right now, I kinda wish I had gotten you something really special. Perhaps expensive.”

“And why is that?”

He grimaced as I pushed myself up to a seated position. I felt my hair fall in tangled waves as he shifted his weight next to me, his eyes never leaving mine.

“We have a guest.”

“A guest?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Who?”

“Dad’s here.”

“Did he knock?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

Sidney chuckled. “I picked him up at the airport a while ago.”

“When?”

“Before I worked out.”

“That early, huh?”

He looked guilty.

“Sidney Patrick Crosby, if you tell me that you’ve known about this and didn’t tell me…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit.”

“I should have warned you.”

“Damn right you should have.”
“I’ve only known for a couple of days.”

“Sounds like that would have given you plenty of time to let me in on it,” I sighed as he sent me a grimace.

He kissed me quickly and headed for the shower. Unless I wanted to wait for him to get through his morning routine, I was going to have to face his father alone. That tended to be my luck. Sidney had planned it perfectly.

I would have gladly spent the morning in the shower with Sidney, but having my father-in-law in the house didn’t really put me in the mood for it. It was the knowledge that Troy was likely in our kitchen that kept me from following my husband into the bathroom and pretending that nothing out of the ordinary was happening in my home.

I pulled my hair into a ponytail and slipped into a pair of jeans that I’d worn the day before. It turned the Penguins shirt I slept in into an actual outfit that was certainly presentable enough to greet my father-in-law. I’d had my fill of being seen by Troy when I was less than fully clothed, though it seemed the uncomfortable encounters tended to happen in places where I had every right to wander around in one of Sid’s shirts and nothing else.

The water cut on in the en suite and I took a deep breath before leaving Sid behind and heading downstairs.

Troy was at the kitchen island with a fresh cup of coffee and a copy of the Hockey News. He glanced up over his reading material as I began the process of making my first cup of tea for the day.

“Good morning, Bronwyn.”

I nodded in greeting, feeling a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t a fan of being watched in my own kitchen. The only eyes I ever cared to have following me around as I prepared my tea belonged to Sidney and our dog. He and Sam were welcome to watch me go through the motions of my morning, but Troy was another story.

It didn’t help that the last time I had seen him had been from afar as he and Sidney fought out some of their issues in the bowels of Consol. Not to mention that part of the fight had certainly been about me. I hadn’t been expecting a basic “good morning.” But I wasn’t sure what I had been expecting.

“I owe you an apology,” he murmured.

“And I’m sure you can understand that I’m a little tired of our conversations beginning this way.”

He didn’t reply. He knew that he’d earned my response.

“I care about you, Troy. I love this family. But I can only take so much and I can’t be alone in that. You say you love having me in the family but at the first sign of trouble, the first time Sidney slips and makes things a little awkward for himself, you hit the panic button. It’s like you flail around looking for the knob to turn that will rewind to the point that you can manage to convince Sid not to fall in love with me or at the very least, the button that will eject me from the picture and give him a do-over.

“You take things to such an extreme; like every slight towards Sid is the end of the world. I get that you’re protective, but you forget that Sidney is a grown man and has been for a long time. You have to let him live his life and you have to give us some space. Bad decisions and all.”

“So you admit that he’s wrong?”

“Even if that was the case, Sidney would be the person I talked to about it. Not you.”

He seemed disappointed at my refusal to join his team and go against Sid. I wasn’t sure what the purpose would have been, bullying Sid into doing things differently, perhaps. But that wouldn’t have helped Troy’s cause. We were well past the point of no return.

“But most of all, you have to let us be married. It’s fine that you care and that you worry, but you can be a little over-involved. He’s mine to worry about now. Maybe you could think about spend a little more time in Minnesota with Taylor.”

It was admittedly bold and it would likely be regrettable at some point, but it was early and I was sometimes ballsy before all of my filters that dictated proper conversation were active.

The air was heavy when Sidney came downstairs after his shower. He stopped in his tracks when he spotted us staring at each other from opposite sides of the island. He didn’t make a comment as he found his footing and moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, placing a kiss upon my temple as he passed.

He kept an eye on us for moment, seeming to wonder who would look away first. We wound up looking away at the same time, his eyes back on the magazine as I turned to prepare something for breakfast. Once we settled in, the morning passed by quickly.

When lunchtime hit, we headed for the café. No heads turned when we walked in together. No one paid much attention at all. We’d barely taken our seats when Troy started talking hockey.

Sidney sighed as he held my hand on top of the table. He slouched slightly and gazed at his father as we sat across from him. I could feel the tension enter his frame, his fingers tightening slightly as he grasped my hand.

“What?” Troy asked.

“Can we just have lunch?”

“We are.”

“No, you’re talking shop.”

“We always talk hockey.”

“I’ve got the day off, Dad. Sometimes I like to talk about other things.”

Troy looked dumbfounded. I gave Sid’s hand a supportive squeeze. The man could carry on a conversation about almost anything, and it was as if his father didn’t realize just how much Sidney had to offer.

“Taylor had a good game last night,” I offered. “Maybe you can call her tonight and talk hockey with her.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sid added. “She’d love it.”

“What is with you two talking about Taylor?”

“She’d appreciate it, Dad. You’ve got the unique perspective of a fellow goalie, which means a lot more to her than talking to her big brother the forward. You guys are in a pretty exclusive club and you should take advantage of that once in a while.”

I gave Sid a sideways glance, wondering if he would push it any further. But he stopped short of pushing too many buttons at once.

“I’m starting to feel unwelcome.”

“You aren’t unwelcome, Troy. You just tend to spend a disproportionate amount of time with Sidney. You’ve got a teenage daughter who is achieving big things and she sees less of you than her grown brother does.”

“We’re just getting settled, Dad. We’ve got enough challenges as it is. We’ve only been married for two months and sometimes we’d like a little space to settle in, room to grow.”

Troy leaned forward, his voice low as his eyes widened, “Are you pregnant?”

It sounded a little like fearful accusation. I could see the thoughts running through his head at full speed. The man would have a coronary if he didn’t learn to tone things down and cope with Sidney having a life of his own. I sat back in my chair and sighed, letting go of Sidney’s hand and pushing loose strands of hair out of my face.

“That’s not what this is about,” Sidney groaned.

“I’m not.”

“I won’t be the only one to assume it.”

“Let people assume what they will,” Sidney countered.

Troy seemed satisfied, but his attention turned back to Sid’s game and Sidney seemed too tired to argue about it. Anything was better than trying to talk Troy down from a panic.

I compromised for the game the next night. Really, I gave in more than anything else. I sat with Troy for the first time since the night Sidney’s jaw had been shattered in the spring. It felt like a bad idea, like bad luck. His preseason had been filled with elbows and high-sticks to the face and neck. I didn’t think I could stand the idea of it happening again. Yet I couldn’t get the thought out of my head, the fear of him getting hurt all over again.

I didn’t mention my concern, swallowing the fear as best I could and trying to look like another hockey fan, if a little more overdressed than some.

The camera found us early and I knew that my face would be all over the internet by the time we got back to Sewickley after the game. They would find the pictures from the club in Halifax and the few that had come from our most eventful night at Diesel. They would compare the pictures and try to make sense of how long we’d been together or who I was. It was only a matter of time before the blogosphere went wild with it. Hell, they’d been waiting for weeks for a clear picture of my face and it wasn’t going to go unnoticed. It was bound to be a big deal.

Other things bound to be a big deal: the lack of smiles on mine or Troy’s faces, the fact that I wasn’t wearing a Crosby jersey, and the ring on my left hand. It was much more noticeable than Sid’s wedding band. I could already feel the hawk-like eyes of every female superfan burning my skin.

I was glad when the night was over, in part because it had been a terrible game; during which they weren’t so much defeated as they were obliterated.

I just wanted to go home and go to bed. I wanted to have our privacy for a while before the backlash was too much to avoid, before Sidney would be faced with finally speaking out about the two of us. I wanted to enjoy a few peaceful hours in the arms of my husband before the team left for Florida.

I just wanted a few hours of being as normal as we could before the outside world invaded with full force.

“Sorry about Dad,” he murmured as I curled up against his chest. His skin was warm to the point that I felt enveloped by his heat. “He never makes it easy.”

“We need to get to the place where you stop feeling the need to apologize for him.”

I felt him shrug. “He’s set in his ways. He always means well.”

“And defending him.”

“I don’t know what to say other than he leaves tomorrow and you won’t see him until the Boston game at the end of the month.”

“Three weeks?”

He nodded.

“You know, some people go that many months, perhaps years without seeing their in-laws.”

“You should be so lucky.” He squeezed me tighter. “We’ll find some balance, I promise.”

“There’s just a whole lot of crazy to sift through, eh?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve got a point there.”

I pressed myself as tightly against him as I could, relishing in the feeling of his arm wrapped around me and holding me against him. We would find our stride, I knew he was right about that, but I also knew there would be substantial challenges we would have to face.

I got hit with a sinus headache the day before they left for Florida. It wouldn’t let up and I finally gave in while they were gone. It was my first trip to a doctor since my move to Pittsburgh. It needed to be done; I had prescriptions to transfer and other basic needs to fulfill. But it was still unpleasant.

The diagnosis was predictable: a sinus infection. It was just like the ones I’d been plagued with as a teenager. I’d known that they’d prescribe a bit of rest and plenty of liquids to accompany the antibiotics that were bound to make me queasy.

By the time they returned, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I’d never responded well to antibiotics and I was exhausted by the time I rolled out of bed in the morning.

Sidney played nurse for a couple of days, bringing me soup and tea. He stroked my hair while I watched bad television shows. It was a reversal from the time that I’d spent nursing him during the days of his liquid diet and solely textual communications. He didn’t seem to mind.

My absence from the next home game, a win against the Oilers, didn’t go unnoticed. It was notable and the blogs went wild with rumors. I hadn’t felt up to the task and Sidney had encouraged me to stay home and rest.

I watched the game on our sofa, surrounded by the accoutrement of my sickness. The number of Kleenex and bottles of water that I’d gone through was astronomical. I flashed back to what felt like dozens of games that I’d watched from Boston when we were just getting started. It was odd to feel so far away when he was only a thirty minute drive from my place on the sofa that I’d helped him select.

As much as I felt like hell warmed over, it took me back. As I watched him play, I felt doe-eyed and enamored of the man on the ice. From there I was able to focus and curse to my heart’s content. It was refreshing to celebrate goals the way I had when I was just his anonymous girlfriend, a well-kept secret. It was freer than the way I felt the need to behave now that I was playing the role of his mysterious wife instead.

I reveled in it, holding him close when he got home and missing him terribly when he left for Philly the next day.

Troy was at the game, but he still wasn’t planning on making a further trip to Pittsburgh until the end of October. It made it easy to settle into my ritual phone call with Taylor.

“I hate Philly games,” she lamented.

“You and me both, little sister.”

The crowd was raucous and I found myself turning off the volume as I put my phone on speaker and set to painting my fingernails. It was easier to watch without the sound of the chorus of fans in orange chanting “Crosby sucks” whenever he touched the puck.

I always had anxiety during games against big rivals. Philly was rivalry enough that it made me nauseous just to watch from afar. At least the nausea from my antibiotics had faded.

I knew that Taylor didn’t like the grudge matches any more than I did. She worried about her brother and I couldn’t blame the kid.

“So, did you two have anything to do with Dad being at my game earlier this week? I texted Sid about it but he never replied.”

“He was at your game?”

“Yeah. He made a last minute trip to Minnesota. Even Mom didn’t know he’d decided to come until he got there. She was as surprised to see him as I was.”

“He must have missed seeing you play.”

“Really, Wyn? That’s all you’re going to give me?”

“I’m glad he was there,” I responded.

I thought it best to act as though I had no idea what she was talking about or how I could have had a role in his last minute appearance near the Twin Cities.

She groaned and we fell into our usual comfort. We chatted between plays, doing our own commentary to drown out the commentary of others. I could still hear the play-by-play being called on her end and our comments served as distraction more than anything else.

It was all habit punctuated by a big, last-minute, come-from-behind win.

“Don’t celebrate too hard tonight,” she mused as we said our goodbyes.

“He won’t be home until late.”

“And he won’t have practice in the morning, so what’s a little more cardio?”

I sighed and hung up. I enjoyed our banter but still found myself a little disturbed by her preoccupation with our sex life. Though I knew that it meant she had no sex life of her own, as she’d freely admitted to me more than once. That was reason enough for me not to worry too much about it and simply be glad that she was too busy with school and hockey to worry about boys and all of the trouble that came along for that particular ride.

The kid did have a solid point.

There were times that Sidney was big on post-game celebrations, especially when he was still riding high on adrenaline.

By the time he crawled into bed with me that night, hours after the rest of the neighborhood had gone to sleep, he was still wide awake. He was being fueled by the lingering feelings from a dominant game, one where he’d thrown a few solid hits and made several great plays that had pulled them up from their deficit in the game. A late goal didn’t hurt matters and his lips found mine in the darkness, travelling quickly along my jaw and onto my neck.

“Good game,” I mused.

He didn’t respond, his mouth moving hungrily against my skin, giving in in a way that he hadn’t since Troy’s last visit and my adventures in illness.

I was glad to feel his skin against mine. Glad that I only had to share him with a home crowd in the coming week. Glad to spend a little time together however we chose.