All That Matters

Sidney didn’t call to grovel.

He didn’t call at all.

Sebastian and I worked our way through three of the worst movies in his collection. Watching Britney Spears and Mariah Carey trying to take off as actresses didn’t even manage to distract me from the fact that my phone hadn’t rung all evening.

Walking out hadn’t been the right thing to do, I was acutely aware of that fact. But panic made me make stupid decisions, and it didn’t feel right to stay either. I just hoped that it worked in our favor and that eventually he would call or text.

Sebastian was trying to keep my mind off of things and I watched out of the corner of my eye as he texted a coworker to tell them he wouldn’t be in the next day. I didn’t point out that he didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. He would have argued and I didn’t see the point. He was a grown man and if he wanted to skip a day of work to pretend to be my caretaker, that was fine.

He drank the bottle of wine on his own, smacking his lips once in a while to rub in the fact that I couldn’t have it. It didn’t bother me much. Even if I had been able to imbibe it was unlikely that I would have had much. I didn’t feel like clouding my judgment given the fact that I was already feeling a bit hazy and my decision making was already failing for the evening.

I shared a bed with my best friend in the way we had as kids, but I didn’t sleep well.

It wasn’t until after my second trip to the bathroom with my three-o’clock-in-the-morning-sickness that I finally got any real rest and that could be chalked up to absolute exhaustion.

It was the smell of French toast that woke me the next morning. It was Sebastian’s specialty. He’d made it more than a few times in the years we’d lived together. It was always when something had gone wrong for me, a bad date or a terrible test score. It was the ultimate comfort food for me. He used the same recipe my mom always had, slipping a tiny pinch of nutmeg in with the cinnamon.

I stretched, my muscles aching. The bed was firmer than the one that I was used to and I could feel the places where it had dug into pressure points along my spine. I adjusted my pajamas, the same ones I’d worn on Tuesday night when Sidney had returned home from the crappiest game of the season. I sighed as the smell of Sidney’s skin wafted to my nose. It was only strong enough to overpower the smell of the breakfast being prepared for a fraction of a second. But it was long enough for the smell to make my stomach tighten.

My phone was on the nightstand next to me and he still hadn’t called. There hadn’t been so much as a text over the course of the night. I could only hope that meant Sidney had been thinking about things. A part of me hoped he was sitting at home hating himself because of the way he’d reacted. I knew it wasn’t the right way to think about things, but that didn’t matter to me in the moment.

The carpet was soft under my toes and I flexed my feet into the pile, my toes cracking quietly. I pushed myself out of the bed and followed the smell of breakfast.

I stopped in the doorway, momentarily unsure of what I was seeing.

“Good morning,” I muttered.

I couldn’t even see Sebastian around the vases of flowers that seemed to be on every surface in the kitchen. I wasn’t even sure how he had room to cook anything.

“Morning,” he replied.

“French toast?”

“Thought you deserved it. But that was before the buzzer started going off.”

He gestured towards the flowers.

“The cards are all numbered. And I’ve had conversations with 6 delivery drivers this morning. I haven’t had so many people in my apartment since I’ve been here. You’ll have to thank your husband for me but just make sure he knows you’re being sarcastic when you do it.”

I looked at all of the arrangements. They were all predominately mums and gerbera daisies. They were the flowers that I loved, the flowers that I’d used in our wedding. Only a few roses were mixed amongst the other brightly colored flowers. I noticed immediately that there wasn’t a single lily in any of the vases. I smiled softly. Sidney knew that I hated them because they reminded me of funerals.

“There are eighteen of them. So far.”

I chuckled. “There won’t be more.”

“Why eighteen? If he was going to infiltrate my apartment, why didn’t he just go an even two-dozen?”

“We’ve been together since last June. Eighteen months. Not eighteen full months, but close enough.”

That wasn’t a terribly long time, but it felt longer. We’d lived a lot in that time together. We’d seen extreme highs and lows with one another and somehow the thing we were experiencing in that moment was both a high and a low for us. At least I hoped so.

I began plucking the envelopes out of the vases. The handwriting on each was clearly Sidney’s which served as a surprise. That meant that he had gone to the flower shops in person. He’d publicly ordered eighteen floral arrangements for the wife he so rarely acknowledged in public. That act in and of itself was enough to swing me towards forgiving him. It had to have taken a lot for him to choose to show up in person as opposed to making a phone call or asking someone else to do it so things could remain private.

It was ballsy.

“Sometimes I think he just likes to show off,” Sebastian muttered.

“Apparently, this is how he grovels.”

I slipped the cards out of the envelopes one at a time laying them out on the counter like pieces of a puzzle. The cards were numbered for a reason. Each card contained a single word and together they made up a message that Sidney could have found a dozen other ways to make. But he wanted to make a statement that stood out. He wanted me to take notice. He wanted it to be said in a way that I wouldn’t forget and that I couldn’t ignore.

A story we could tell our children one day.

I let my eyes crawl from word to word. A slow smile crept across my face.

“What kind of poetry requires eighteen cards?”

“It isn’t poetry. Just an apology.”

“You have to tell me what they say. I’m making you breakfast.”

“What if I’m not in a French toast mood?”

“There is only one reason you would not be in the mood for French toast. You would have to be dead.”

“Each card has a word on it. All together it reads; ‘Bronwyn Abigail Doyle-Crosby, I am so incredibly sorry. I was an absolute prick. Will you forgive me?’”

“Damn straight he was a prick.”

“The important thing is that he can admit it.”

“Via hundreds of flowers in my apartment?”

I shrugged.

“So, what’s your next move?”

“Eating breakfast.”

“So the flowers don’t incur an immediate response?”

“No. He’s softened me, but I’m still pissed off.”

I wasn’t nearly as angry as I had been. In fact, the flowers made me miss Sidney and my first thought had been to grab my things and go back to Sewickley as quickly as the speed limit would allow. But rushing home wasn’t the answer. Besides, Sidney was at practice preparing for their game that night against the Sharks.

It was their first time facing San Jose since TK had made his way out west. The attention on the game was intense and the pressure of the extra questions from the press and interviews for the paper always seemed to land squarely on Sidney’s shoulders.

He wouldn’t be home until it was time for lunch and that gave me plenty of time for breakfast and a little extra to let Sidney fester. But I still needed to see him and talk to him before the game. He’d only played a few games when we were fighting and he’d played horribly every time. I didn’t want that hanging over my head if he had another shitty game. Especially given just how bad the fight had become.

I shared the French toast with Sebastian, covering mine in maple syrup that pooled on the plate. Sebastian watched me carefully as he nibbled at his own breakfast. He’d dusted his helping with powdered sugar and washed each bite down with a long pull from his coffee mug.

“So, what are you going to do with all of the flowers?” he asked as he gestured around the room with his fork.

“I thought they went well with your décor.”

“Oh no,” he argued. “You are not leaving eighteen vases full of ‘sorry I was an asshole and you overreacted but I’m still going to take the blame’ flowers in my apartment. All of these are going home with you to the suburbs where they belong. Your house is actually big enough to hold them all.”

“How am I supposed to transport them, Bastian?”

He held up a hand, his mouth full. He jumped up from his seat and took off into the living room. He returned with a small box in his hand. He swallowed the last of his breakfast and waved the box at me and spoke around a mouthful of food.

“They all came nestled in these adorable little boxes wrapped in plastic. I say we wrap them back up and put them in your trunk. There’s plenty of room and we’ll bolster them with rolled up towels or something. Towels that you will return to me. Or replace if you so choose.”

He was grinning madly, the box hanging from his pinky and one hip popped to the side. I rolled my eyes.

“Fine. I’ll take them home. But I’m not buying you new towels.”

“They could be a gift for putting you up for the night and making you breakfast.”

“No. Besides, you love having me here.”

I stood up and placed a kiss low on his cheek.

“Fine. I love having you around because I miss my best friend sometimes. But you’re a lot more fun when you can drink with me. Or at least when you aren’t miserable. Next time you show up, maybe it should be when you and the hubby aren’t fighting.

“You’re going to have to wait a while for some of that. The drinking part especially.”

He considered me for a moment. There was a soft smile on my lips and the thought hadn’t made me want to drown myself in the bathtub. I was growing comfortable with the situation. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“You say that like it’s an okay thing now.”

“It is okay. Hopefully soon it will be better than okay.”

He helped me pack up the flowers and transport them to the car. I’d slipped one into his bedroom, leaving it behind for him to enjoy. I’d considered leaving several but I could find homes for the rest in the house and I knew he wouldn’t complain if I only left one behind.

He clapped his hands in accomplishment as I slammed the hatch on the back of the car. Hopefully they would make it home without spilling water and greenery all over the back of the car between Sebastian’s apartment and the suburbs and I was about to find out if that was possible.

I took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around me. My hands found purchase on his back, my fingers curled up over his shoulders as he squeezed me tightly.

“I love you, Wynnie.”

“I love you too, Bastian.”

He stepped back and kissed me on the forehead a small smile playing at his lips.

“Okay, two things before you go. One; I am here whenever you need me. No matter what. Two; if that husband of yours is behaving well tonight and not being a prick then you can extend my congratulations for the two of you to him. If he’s still being a prick, which I highly doubt after all the flowers and the mysterious way of leaving a note, I request that you punch him in the jeans on my behalf.”

I smiled, holding back a laugh as he settled his hands on my shoulders. He clearly had something else he wanted to say. But it was as if he was waiting for permission.

“What?” I asked.

“Okay, three things.”

“What’s the third?”

“I would officially like to place my name in the hat for godfather. I know there are a lot of guys who could be up for the role, but I would really appreciate the nomination.”

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him. He always knew how to end things on a note that was purely about Sebastian. But I didn’t mind. His name was in the hat anyway and if Sidney kept messing with my emotions, I would do the choosing all alone. Sebastian would win by default.

I beat Sidney home, giving me plenty of time to settle in and actually start a load of laundry once I’d dragged seventeen vases of flowers into the house and found places to put them. With that done, I emptied my suitcase onto the bedroom floor and tossed in the few items from my duffel as well, stowing both pieces of luggage back in Sidney’s portion of the closet.

He hadn’t made the bed, the sheets disheveled as if he hadn’t slept soundly and had instead tossed and turned all night. I began to straighten the covers, smoothing out the comforter and tucking the sheets back where they belonged. I ran my hands along the covers on my side of the bed, the side that was empty the night before. But the path they took wasn’t smooth and I pulled the covers back out of curiosity.

I felt a pang of mixed guilt and happiness in my chest as I saw what he’d been sharing our bed with. Just beneath the comforter where I would have been curled up against him had things been normal the night before, were the four tests that I’d slammed against his chest the day before.

Clearly, the visual had served the purpose I’d hoped. Maybe that had been the source of his reflection, the reason that he’d realized why I was angry with him. Those silly little plastic sticks had led him to a restless night and early morning trips to several flower shops before he got to the rink.

I lifted the tests from the bed and settled them in the drawer of his nightstand. Eventually I’d find a better home for them, a box of keepsakes perhaps. But for the time being they were just fine on Sidney’s side of the bed.

At least I hoped that was the case.

I heard the garage door opening and quickly returned to fixing the sheets. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to clean things up. Maybe it was my subconscious trying to make sure everything was smoothed over. But it didn’t really matter; it was something to do to keep my hands busy as I listened to the garage door lowering again as the kitchen door swung open and Sidney stepped quietly into the house.

I straightened my top settling my hands nervously in the pockets of my jeans. I could only assume that Sidney was holding himself similarly while he waited in the kitchen. I hadn’t heard his footsteps moving across the house. He, like me, was waiting. But one of us had to move.

Of all the disagreements we’d had, we’d never shouted at each other the way we had the day before. I’d slept in the guest room just once, but never had I simply left the house and my husband behind. Perhaps it had been an overreaction. There were certainly better ways we could have handled ourselves. But we were past that. We were in the aftermath and though he’d sent his apologies, there was a lot of fixing that needed to be done before we could move forward and prepare for what was coming our way.

I took a step forward. I knew that once I started on my way, I would be able to propel myself towards him. He remained silent downstairs. I wished, as I headed towards the kitchen, that I could somehow know what he was thinking.

I prided myself on knowing my husband well, better than almost anyone. But he hadn’t been himself since getting back from Long Island and it made it difficult for me to read him. I couldn’t really guess where his mind was or why he’d done what he had. I wanted to know but I dreaded asking the questions that needed to be asked.

He was standing in the kitchen, staring at the stove. I’d started preparing his usual pasta lunch when I arrived home, the sauce on at a low simmer, heating slowly. I’d thought little of it, working from habit more than anything. But the look on his face made it clear to me that he hadn’t expected it. The thought was further driven home by the takeout boxes settled on the counter.

The reheated sauce could easily be pulled from the stove and saved for later.

“Hey,” I said from the doorway, drawing his attention immediately.

His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he turned towards me. His shoulders were curved forward and the look in his eyes made my stomach clench. I gulped.

His expression was painful. His emotions all bound together swimming behind the soft brown of his eyes. Regret and concern were more predominant as he sized me up. Then, moving with speed that belied his size, his body was wrapped around mine. The embrace was crushing, his fear rolling off of him in waves.

“I got your note…and the flowers,” I murmured into his shoulder.

He was still squeezing me tightly. I could feel the tension in his body, his muscles coiled tightly beneath his skin. I reveled in his heat for a moment knowing that we would have to speak. We couldn’t just stand in the kitchen with him holding onto me for dear life until he had to prepare for his game. We had to communicate in the way that we hadn’t seemed capable of the day before.

“I’m so sorry, Wyn.”

He was speaking into my neck, his voice shaking the way it did when he was fighting to hold back tears. My hand crawled up to the back of his neck, my fingers brushing the soft hairs at the base of his skull. I squeezed his neck gently.

“I know, babe,” I responded. “So am I.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did plenty of things wrong, Sidney.”

He pulled away slowly, his hands coming to rest on my sides. I rested my hands atop his. I felt the cool metal of his wedding band against my palm. I wondered how much time he’d spent worrying it the day before, twisting it on his finger until it was almost swollen from the constant movement. He did that when we argued, but even after his finger was inflamed, he never took the ring off when it didn’t have to do with work. He would let it stay there on the sore skin and let it be a reminder.

“I shouldn’t have taken things out on you like that. It wasn’t about you. I’m not good with being caught off guard and I guess it panicked me and just sent me over the edge but I never should have…”

He trailed off, his voice cracking softly.

“I know. I shouldn’t have left.”

He smiled softly, not quite selling the expression in the way I was sure he’d hoped he would. But I knew he was trying. That meant a lot to me, more than I thought it could.

“I’m kind of glad that you did.”

I gave him a puzzled look as he disengaged himself and spread the lunch he’d purchased across the island. He tapped one of the stools. I accepted the invitation, stopping to turn off the burner on the stove and grab a couple of forks that weren’t wrapped in plastic.

We sat next to each other but turned in our chairs, our knees touching as we faced each other.

“Why are you glad I slept at Sebastian’s?” I asked.

“I needed to think.”

“About?”

“A lot of things.”

“Sidney, what has been going on with you? You weren’t yourself when you got home the other night.”

He nodded. “The game was just bad and I let some things get into my head. I can’t even be sure why. But I was struggling and I was missing you and you weren’t being yourself and all of these terrible things were going through my head while you were in Minnesota and my head was just a mess. I took that out on you and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. You couldn’t ever deserve the way I acted yesterday.”

I scowled. “What kind of things?”

“It’s not important.”

“I disagree. I know you felt like I was withholding from you and I’m sorry if that was driving you crazy, but I can’t imagine what was going through your mind, Sid. If we’re going to cross this bridge, we have to talk to each other.”

“I was afraid that I was disappointing you.”

“What?”

“You went home to see your dad and I just started wondering why you went to spend Thanksgiving in Minnesota instead of being with me. Which was stupid because I was in fucking Florida but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just started thinking too much, wondering if the distance was going to make you realize that things haven’t been quite right. I just had this sudden realization that I might not be the husband that you deserve and I felt like you were pushing me away and that scared the hell out of me. I started thinking about not having you and you know how I get. I spiraled into those thoughts and I lost my mind a little bit.

“Then the game was utter shit and the trip home was horrible because the whole team was unhappy and I felt like I’d let them down. I wanted to talk but I could tell that wasn’t what you wanted. Then hearing you talk to Taylor yesterday, I just lost it thinking you were hiding something from me. I just thought it had to be something terrible. And it wasn’t something terrible but I was so prepared to react like it was that I couldn’t climb out of that hole I’d already dug.”

“Things have been good, Sidney. Not perfect but good. We’re just starting out and there are going to be challenges. And despite the way you acted yesterday, which I have to say is the worst I’ve ever seen you, not coming home was never an option. It’s never as bad as it seems on our worst day.”

“Admittedly, I overreacted.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“I needed to go see my dad, that’s why I went back to Minnesota, and maybe the timing wasn’t right. None of this seemed to go the way we planned or hoped.”

“Tell me about it,” he muttered as he dug back into his lunch.

I glanced up at the clock. Soon he would need to settle in for his pregame nap. Even though there was plenty more we needed to discuss, that didn’t change the fact that he needed his rest before the game that night.

I still hadn’t decided if I wanted to go. But at the same time, I didn’t want the talk to start the way it had when I was home sick. It would probably be best if I went. At the very least I could watch from the box with Nathalie and Mario. At least Nat knew what was going on between us. She wouldn’t ask questions and I could watch in relative peace without also feeling like I was keeping a secret from the women who had become my close friends.

“I’m sorry I brought Nathalie into it.”

In fact, I’d regretted it almost immediately. I wasn’t even sure it was a conversation I would have had with my mother if she’d still been alive, but it seemed to function as such. Still, it wasn’t right to start calling in third parties especially since that had been a part of the original problem.

He actually smiled, his lips turning up in the crooked way that they did when he was truly amused. It was nice to see, though his eyes remained heavy with the remainder of the more negative emotions still hanging over us.

“I’m glad you did that too.”

“So you’re glad I stayed at Sebastian’s and you’re glad that Nathalie knows what happened yesterday.”

“Well, if you hadn’t told her then I probably wouldn’t have heard from Mario last night. Mario Lemieux is a lot of things, but I don’t think psychic is one of them. Besides, you needed to talk to someone and I wasn’t listening. I’m glad you have someone like her to help you through things even though generally that’s supposed to be my job. And it’s not like you’re the first of us to tell someone else something that we should have told each other first.”

He was right. He was the man who had told his father he was in love with me before he’d told me.

He closed up the box he was eating out of and tossed it into the fridge, stretching as he moved. He was favoring one leg slightly, but it wasn’t enough to keep him out of the game that night. I didn’t even mention it, knowing that he’d taken a solid hit in New York and his hip wasn’t one hundred percent. Asking about it would do no good and it didn’t really matter. He was going to play and he was determined to have a better game than he had on Tuesday night. Determined to lead his team in the right direction.

“Nap time?” I asked.

He nodded and collected the remainder of our lunch, finding places in the refrigerator along with the sauce that had cooled again.

“Need my beauty sleep, right?”

“I don’t know what good it will do, but you can try.”

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“This isn’t fixed, Sidney. But I think we’re headed in the right direction especially if we can keep talking to each other like this. We can’t hold everything in and expect it not to have an effect on our marriage.”

He reached for my hand. “Come with me?”

“You need your rest.”

“And I tend to rest better when you’re next to me.”

I didn’t argue, following him back up to our bedroom. He took in the smoothed out comforter and looked towards me, not asking the question that was waiting on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he slipped out of his jeans and I followed suit, joining him under the covers.

Without thought I curled into his side and his arm wrapped protectively around me as I settled my head upon his chest. It was the way we should have slept the night before, but the cards had been stacked against us.

“Where did you put the uh…?” he muttered, not quite finishing his thought.

“The tests?”

“Yeah.”

“In your nightstand.”

I felt his fingers tighten against my hip.

“You still haven’t told me how you feel about this.”

He knew what I was referring to; there was no way it would be lost on him.

“I know.”

“You have to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“I know,” he repeated.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to tell you, Sidney. I was scared. I wasn’t expecting this and I don’t feel like I’m ready. It was a lot to take on and I couldn’t get it straight in my head let alone find a way to tell you. I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you.”

I let him remain quiet. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting from him. Neither of us had really had time for the news to settle in properly.

“Do you think we can start fresh with this? Maybe pretend my little tantrum yesterday didn’t happen?”

“That might be a good idea.”

“Okay,” he said, his chest rising as he took a deep breath.

I too drew a hefty breath, steeling myself before trying to start fresh. Pretending I hadn’t already told him and been met with an icy glare and more accusations than celebration.

“Hey, babe?” I began.

“Yeah, honey?”

“I have news.”

“Good news or bad news?”

“It’s starting to feel like good news. I hope it’s good news.”

He held me tighter to his side. He was urging me along.

“Well it seems that due to circumstances somewhat out of our control, you’ve managed to knock me up.”

He laughed deeply but didn’t say a word. I felt him shift his weight slightly, moving out from beneath me, angling his frame so that we were facing each other. Then his lips were on mine, hungry and passionate in a way that I hadn’t expected.

That kiss held every word that he didn’t say. It took away the fear that I’d been feeling, replacing it with the warmth that he caused me to feel deep in the pit of my stomach. I returned the kiss arching my body towards him knowing that we wouldn’t go any further and that he truly needed to get some rest before the game.

I pulled away, my hand tangled in the thinning cotton of his tee shirt.

His eyes had changed, softening to the warm honey color that I so often found myself lost in. He no longer looked afraid yet the emotion in his eyes was something beyond happiness. There was something else hiding behind the joy that had taken over his face.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Knocked you up?”

“I tried it the other way yesterday and the words ‘I’m pregnant’ didn’t seem to hit you in the same way.”

“Well today, I’m reacting the way I should have yesterday.”

“And how is that?”

“Telling you that I’m incredibly happy and that I love you. Also that I’m going to struggle a little with not telling the guys.”

“We can’t be telling more people. Taylor and my dad weren’t even supposed to know. Now Nat and Mario know and that’s totally on me.”

He shrugged. “I pushed you to it.”

“Either way. I started it and we can’t tell everyone we know. It’s really early. I did the math and I’m like two months in.”

“Still, I’m going to struggle with the secret.”

“Why today but not yesterday?”

“I guess yesterday I was just too overwhelmed in a bad way. I was only afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“You’re not the only one of us who feels fear, Bronwyn. I’m human too. I’m not changing my story. I still want kids, more than you know. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be afraid of fatherhood and whether I’m going to be any good at it. But I have a while to get used to that feeling.”

“Somewhere close to eight months,” I confirmed.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“I’m getting there. Scared but the more I think about it the better I feel about it. Especially now that you’re on board.”

“I’m totally on board.”

I settled in, falling asleep quickly and only waking when his phone began to alert him that it was time to get ready for the game. He slid out from beneath me.

“Go back to sleep,” he murmured, kissing me on the temple. “I don’t think either of us slept very well last night.”

“I have to get ready for the game too.”

He looked surprised. “You’re coming?”

“No reason not to. Besides, I haven’t watched a game with Mario and Nathalie in a while. Figure I might take them up on that offer of sitting in the owner’s box once in a while. “

He smiled. “I might just have a better game tonight then.”

“Don’t start that. I’m not your lucky charm.”

“No, but sometimes I think you make me play a little better.”

“Don’t start relying on that. You’ve got enough superstitions for eight men as it is.”

“It’s not a superstition. I just like having you there.”

“I like being there.”

“Even if you’re afraid of seeing me get hurt?”

“I’m getting better,” I insisted. “I can watch a little more before I start to get nervous and sometimes I peek out from behind my fingers.”

He chuckled as he headed for the closet to find a suit. I followed him into the expansive space that was filled with our clothes and shoes. He was shuffling though his options, eventually settling on a dark blue number that he wore more often than the rest. He held up three ties and I chose my favorite as I searched for a dress.

“You want to come to the rink with me?” he kidded.

“No. I think I’ll drive myself.”

“Or you could ride with Nat.”

“You make this sound like you have a plan.”

“I just thought you might want to ride home with me. Maybe stop and have dinner with a few people.”

I shook my head. “You could just approach these things directly.”

“But sometimes you scare me. Besides, I never actually agreed to dinner and we’ve had a tough couple of days. I wanted to leave it up to you.”

I slapped him playfully. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

He leaned down, his bee-stung lips meeting mine for only a moment. I broke away and continued my search for a dress that would be comfortable for the hours I’d be at the rink and the few following while we shared dinner with whichever teammates he had plans with.

“Call Nathalie,” he said as he exited the closet. “Just make sure she knows you’ve got a ride home.”

“Did you just wink at me?” I called after him.

“Maybe!” he hollered in reply, off to take a quick shower.

“You can just fix things by being adorable, you know!” I called after him.

He didn’t respond and I took my time in getting ready while he lingered in the bathroom. My hair didn’t want to do anything I asked of it and I pulled it up and out of my face in defeat, only calling Nathalie after I was ready.

She didn’t ask how things were or if he’d apologized. Somehow she seemed to know that we were better than we had been the day before. Maybe Mario had told her what advice he’d given Sidney. Maybe she’d been the one to suggest it. I didn’t ask.

She seemed more than willing to act as my chauffer, and more than that, she seemed happy that I’d be joining them in the box. Mario too seemed glad to see me when we arrived just minutes before the puck was set to drop.

Aside from Mario the box was quiet. The rest would likely arrive with only seconds to spare. It gave us a moment to talk in private.

“Mario, what exactly did you say to my husband last night?”

He smiled as I took the seat to his left. He pushed a bottle of water towards me as Nathalie took her place to his right. She patted his shoulder softly before sitting down and focusing on the ice where the player introductions were about to begin.

“Nothing of consequence.”

“I doubt that.”

He laughed softly. For such a physically imposing man, his presence off the ice and outside the board room was less than overwhelming. There was a quiet nature about him that had made me feel comfortable since the day we’d met. It was one of the only reasons I’d been so willing to approach him about his conversation with Sidney.

“I warned him not to push you away. We all go through tough spots but I just reminded him that it takes a special person to put up with the way we live our lives in this sport. Told him not to take something like that for granted.

“I may also have mentioned that he shouldn’t take work home. That’s a difficult lesson to learn. I think I learned it the hard way.”

“He did,” Nathalie interjected. “He learned a lot of lessons the hard way.”

“No matter what you said, I just want to thank you. It seems to have done the guy some good.”

“Nathalie and I are here for the two of you. No matter what happens. Both of you.”

He patted me softly on the hand as others began to filter into the box just before the national anthem began.

It wasn’t the kind of advice he would give to just any player on the team. It was advice that he gave only to someone who may as well have been a member of his family. Sidney wasn’t just another hockey player and I wasn’t just another player’s wife. For that I was thankful.

Our dinner with a few of Sidney’s teammates after the game against San Jose didn’t go off without a hitch. Instead it slowly went downhill from the moment that we arrived until Sidney finally called uncle and decided it was time for us to go home for the evening. Though it took him long enough.

It began innocently enough. Sidney had told me in the car on the way to the restaurant that we were meeting up with Kris and Catherine as well as Marc and Vero. That had sounded comforting. They were the teammates and wives that I was closest to outside of Duper and his family. But by the time we’d arrived, Geno and Oksana had already taken up residence at the table. Apparently Marc had invited them along without thought.

It really shouldn’t have mattered. But I saw Vero’s eyes take a course from me to Oksana and back again more than once as Sidney and I settled in. It was as if she was waiting for the shit to hit the fan. But I hoped it wouldn’t be an issue.

It was just a friendly dinner being shared by a few couples. We were certainly capable of being civil at the very least. It wasn’t that much to ask or accomplish. I was certain we could get through a meal without any unnecessary drama. At least I found myself hoping that would be the case.

My grip on Sidney’s hand tightened as we took our seats. He glanced over at me.

“Did I not tell you they’d be here?” he whispered into my ear.

“Goddammit!” I hissed.

“Marc invited them. Besides, she’s not that bad.”

“She hates me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I think I know when someone is planning my demise and she is one of those people. She may be on her best behavior when you and G are paying attention but she hates me. She’s wanted me dead since the day we met.”

“It isn’t that bad.”

I shook my head. Oksana and I had never developed a rapport. Whenever she was around, her claws seemed to be out. There had been a few times when I’d celebrated one of Evgeni’s goals when sitting with the wives and girlfriends and the look she’d sent in my direction carried the ferocity of a laser. It wasn’t as if my reaction was anything out of the ordinary. Even when sitting with the others, I couldn’t quite quell some of the reactions that I had as just another fan and not another hockey wife. I celebrated any Penguin victory and every Penguin point. Sure I celebrated a little harder when it was Sidney playing the hero, but that was to be expected.

Still, her responses always seemed unnecessary. Her ire felt so out of place. But I could tell that she wouldn’t like me no matter what I did, she just seemed to be looking for a reason.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured me as we settled in at the table.

He didn’t let go of my hand as we browsed the menus and made our selections. I would feel him give my hand a gentle squeeze every few minutes, just a reminder of his presence. It was his way of telling me everything was fine and that I shouldn’t be nervous. It helped very little, though I wished it was doing more for me than it did.

The first disaster of the evening happened when I refused both wine and a caffeinated beverage when it was offered. For some reason no one at the table was willing to believe that I was simply not interested and preferred my water with the wedge of lemon to Merlot or a coffee. The attention that Vero gave me for not having a glass of wine was the thing that piqued Oksana’s interest. She wasn’t trying to make a scene, but it was clear that Vero was beginning to get suspicious about the way I was behaving, perhaps even about the slight changes in Sidney and myself as well.

I attempted to wave it off, but I was starting to feel the pressure as dinner went on.

By the time dinner was over Oksana was practically sitting in Geno’s lap and I had lost any appetite I’d had upon our arrival. I found myself wishing I’d eaten nachos or a hot dog at the arena. Her eyes never left me and it grew worse as Sidney lost his control and let loose with the news.

Marc had piped up about the wine issue, wondering why I hadn’t had so much as a sip. Perhaps it was because I was famous for it amongst the team. I’d never been a wine drinker in my life. I drank mixed drinks that my friends ordered or the same beer that I’d been drinking since college. Sidney was a bit of a connoisseur and always encouraged me to take a sip of whatever he was drinking to see if I liked it. He was trying to develop my palate for it and the fact that he hadn’t even offered wasn’t something that his teammates or their wives allowed to go unnoticed.

If it weren’t for Oksana and the way she spent so much time staring me down, I probably wouldn’t have minded their harping, but it was beginning to make me uncomfortable as the night wore on and their questions remained hanging over us.

By the time we all turned down dessert, Sidney couldn’t take it any longer and he let it out.

I sighed and dropped my head onto the table. I wasn’t ready to share the news with anyone, but he’d gotten caught up in the way Kris and Marc were pestering him while Geno looked on.

“Good job, Sid,” Marc chided.

Sidney tossed a dinner roll across the table but the goalie palmed it easily, taking a bite out of the pastry as if to prove a point.

“I think it’s safe to say,” I said as I lifted my head, “that this stays at this table. If my math is right I’m only like eight weeks in. I haven’t even seen a doctor. No one says another word until you have the go ahead from us. Clear?”

“Absolutely,” Kris agreed.

“Sid always said you were scary, but I never believed him,” Marc added.

“Told you,” Sidney replied. “Terrifying.”

“No worry, Wyn. Sid mess up, Geno fix him for you.”

“She’d never pick you over me, G,” Sid joked.

“Don’t bet your money on that one, Canada,” I quipped.

Sidney’s teammates laughed as I caught the look on his girlfriend’s face. It hit me then. Jealousy. She didn’t like the fact that Geno and I got along the way that we did. She saw me as a threat. I nearly laughed aloud at the thought. As much as I joked, Sidney was the only one who would have ever caught my eye and Geno was more like an annoying older brother than anything else. I had no interest and even if I wasn’t with Sidney, Evgeni Malkin wouldn’t not have weaseled his way in or so much as turned my head. He wasn’t my type.

I scooted closer to Sidney but he didn’t notice the way she glowered at me. He just wrapped his arm around my shoulders and kept on with conversation as if nothing was different.

Dinner ended soon after with the three team members sworn to secrecy and the wives threatened with bodily harm if they said a word. I trusted the majority of the people at the table, but there was one I was worried about.

“Jealous?” Sidney laughed as we settled in for the drive home.

“You didn’t see the way she glared at me when Geno said he’d fix you. She does that every time G gives me the slightest amount of attention. The one time he pulled my chair out for me to mess with you; I thought she was going to gouge my eyes out with a soup spoon. She hates it when he pays attention to me.”

“She knows we’re married, right?”

“Does she? She barely speaks English, maybe she’s confused about the set up.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about it, babe.”

“Famous last words.”

“Seriously. It will be fine.”

“Not helping.”

He sighed and squeezed my hand. It was the best he could offer and it calmed me for the time-being, but it didn’t stop me from wondering just how long we’d be able to keep our secret an actual secret. We didn’t seem to be too good at keeping things to ourselves and more people knew than I thought was healthy. I just hoped we kept to the status quo at least for a while.

We needed a little time to settle in and for our nerves to calm. That was all I asked.