Folded

That’s how she was found, crumpled on the floor and clutching the sheet of paper with a 2010 Chicago Blackhawks jersey next to her.

“Mommy?” a small voice asked. “Mommy why are you crying?”

She felt small arms wrap around her neck and the hot breath of her young son against her. On instinct, she started pulling herself together. Was there any use crying over him anymore?

“Mommy are you crying because you’re sad to leave?” he asked. “Because when I cried, you told me that all that mattered was that we’re together. You, me, and Daddy.”

You, me, and Daddy. Maggie thought sadly. You, me, and Matt.

Her son, Bryan, was slowly growing into the spitting image of his father. She never called Bryan their son, at least not out loud. There was no mistaking, for Maggie anyway, the fact that Matt was not by any means Bryan’s father.

“We’ll be close to Grammy and Grandpa right?” Bryan continued.

And Jon.

“But I want MiMi and PapPap to come to She-Cago too.” He’d yet to master his new home’s name. “And then my baby.” Bryan rubbed his mother’s stomach. It wasn’t ever called ‘his sibling’ by Bryan; it was always ‘his baby’. “I hope it’s a sister.”

“Me too, Bry,” Maggie sighed. “Me too.”



Maggie watched the box in the corner like it was a viper – ready to strike. It contained the jersey and paper, both of which she fully intended on getting rid of.

She turned her attention back to the window where her son played in the yard with his cousins. They were staying at her parents’ house just a little ways outside the city.

Soon, she felt to arms slide around her waist. Matt.

“I was thinking,” he pressed a kiss to her neck.

Just like Jon.

But it was nothing like Jon, she was quickly remembering.

“You were thinking,” Maggie prompted.

Matt took his lips off her neck. “Right. That maybe we’d check out some places in the city tomorrow.”

“The city?” Maggie asked. “Isn’t that kind of backwards? Don’t people starting families move out of the city?”

“But we’ve already got a family,” he rubbed her stomach. “We’re just expanding.”

Maggie cringed. “Right. Expanding.”

“Besides,” Matt continued, not noticing her tone. “There are some great private schools around the city. We can actually afford them now.” It was true. Matt’s promotion had moved them to Chicago and she had a job lined up at a new pediatric center come summer time. “We’ll be closer to work.”

Closer to Jon. Maggie wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.



Maggie hurried across the street, leaving Matt and Bryan to talk with the real estate agent. She’d said she’d just needed some air, that she’d be right back.

Imagine her surprise as they pulled up to the agency when she glanced across the street and saw the familiar high rise where Jon’s condo resided. Or used to reside. She was still crossing her fingers that he still had a residence there.

Maggie had wrapped the jersey in brown paper and buried it in her oversized purse. It had been a long shot that she’d get a chance to find him, but she’d hoped.

She ducked into the lobby, seeing it unchanged. Was that even the same man at the front desk?

“Excuse me,” Maggie gulped. “I’m leaving a package for Jo-… Mr. Toews.”

“Of course,” the man nodded. “But you’ll need to fill out this -,”

“He’ll know who it’s from,” she cut him off.

The older gentleman gave her a look, not saying anything for a while. But he nodded eventually.

Maggie pulled out the jersey with the paper tucked under some ribbon. At the last minute, she tore off a slip of paper from a pad on the counter and scribbled a few words before adding a photo.

When the package was stowed into Jon’s mailbox, Maggie rushed to the now open door.

“Thank you,” she kept her eyes down, collar turned up. All of a sudden, she was very nervous, with adrenaline pumping through her veins. Now she understood how women could cheat on their husbands. It was like a high.



Jon stared after the red coat as it hurried across the street. Was that-? No, it couldn’t be. It had been so long.

It had been a long road trip, ending in a loss to fucking Pittsburgh. Sure, he and Crosby got along but there was nothing worse than playing second fiddle to Canada’s golden boy.

“Package for you, Mr. Toews,” he heard from the front desk just as the elevator dinged. “Just dropped off.”

Just?

Jon took the brown paper and tucked it under his arm before going up to his pent house. He dumped his suitcase in the entryway along with his dress shoes. Whatever the ‘package’ was, it was like it burned through his skin.

He dropped it onto the granite counter like it really was on fire. Then all at once, he tore into it. Jon threw the pieces of paper to the side and ripped the ribbons off before tearing the paper to bits. And there it was.

His jersey. Her jersey. Was it their jersey?

He wasn’t sure if he should be furious, depressed, maybe elated. Snatching the papers off the counter, he opened the first and saw the date.

January 1st, 2010

No point in reading it now. It was crumpled and thrown to the side.

But the next one had him gasping for air. It was a picture of a young boy that could be… him. He flipped open the piece of paper with it.

Looks just like you, doesn’t he? Bryan – 7 years old.

That night. The night they’d seen each other after her graduation from med school. Dear God, had it been 7 years?

At the window now, Jon looked down at the side walk to where a red coat was walking with a man holding her hand and a young boy in his arms. The boy reached down to his mother’s growing belly and Jon gulped, groaned. Had he let that go?

One hand against the cold glass and another wiping away a few stray tears, Jon looked at the jersey. In one swift motion, he threw into the garbage. Not like he needed it now.



“What about this place?” Matt suggested, pointing to the very building that Maggie had just come from.

Humoring him, Maggie pretended to consider it. It was a beautiful building.

“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”