She's Like a Piece of Home

“So, apparently being a professional hockey player has its perks,” a familiar voice teased from the doorway to her office. Raleigh looked up from her desk, surprised.

“How did you get up here? You were supposed to text me.”

“Well,” he dragged the word out and shoved his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. “I was about to and then guy behind the counter saw me and asked if I needed assistance. And after a quick autograph and photo, he let me in and told me where I could find you.”

She rolled her eyes. Dylan. Of course. The enthusiastic high school senior worked the front counter as part of his work study for school. She should have known that he would immediately recognize Matt.

Matt reached into the hallway and his hand reappeared with a large brown Panera bag. “I brought lunch, as promised…. Of course, I had to guess for you.”

She quickly cleared space on her desk, moving large stacks of papers to the side and objects to the shelf behind her. Matt arranged the food and set a bowl of chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese in front of her. She arched an eyebrow and smiled. “All the options on the menu and this what you picked?”

She was surprised when his cheeks tinged pink as he sat down. “Like I said, I guessed.”

She waited until he made eye contact with her again and smiled warmly this time. “It’s perfect. Really, it is. Nothing says comfort like grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup.” The red on his cheeks grew slightly darker, but she continued, pretending not to notice. “I remember your mom made the best chicken noodle soup. I’ve never met anyone who could match hers.” She sipped a spoonful and let the warm liquid run down her throat. Her body warmed and she had a sense of being completely content. “This is pretty good, too, though.”

Raleigh studied him as they sat in silence, eating their meals. His hair and clothing were damp. She realized that he probably didn’t think to grab an umbrella and got caught in the rain. He was dressed in a dark purple checkered button down shirt with the sleeves rolled just to the mid point of his forearms and a pair of dark stone washed jeans. “Do you, uh, want some paper towels or something? I see you didn’t plan for the storm.”

“Rather observant.” He chuckled. “It’d be awesome if you had something, though.”

*
Raleigh jumped up from her chair and this was the first full look he had of her. She had her dark brown hair pulled halfway up and the rest of fell in soft waves over her shoulders. Her clothing was fitted to her small frame, a three-quarter sleeve white button down shirt and olive dress pants. She flitted out of the office and returned a few minutes later with a roll of white paper towels. “It’s not much, but it’s better than being wet.”

Neither of them spoke again for several minutes. The quiet began to wear him down with only her music playing in the background. She was listening to a series of seriously depressing songs. “What happened to your dancing?”

Nearly choking on her soup, she swallowed and coughed. “Well, don’t you just dive into the deep end first?” He shrugged a single shoulder. She eyed him suspiciously before answering. “I stopped.”

“Well, that much is obvious. Why did you stop?”

“This is really what we’re going to open up with?” She was pushing a pen around on her desk. He had a strong urge to reach out and set his hand on hers to stop her. He couldn’t shake the overwhelmingly lost feeling he got from her every time he looked at her. It bothered him. Ever since Molly had brought her over to him last month, she had been on his mind. Memories rehashed themselves with everything he did. He found himself constantly startled at how much he remembered about her.

He debated on whether to push it, but decided against it. He’d do this at her pace, if it got her to open up to him. “Fine, you start.”

“Where’d you end up going to college?”

“I didn’t,” he started to say before swallowing the bite of bread. “I went straight into the minors. I was drafted by Nashville and played in the minors for two years before I was pulled up for the Preds.”

“I thought your mom was dead set on you going to college first?” Two thoughts at once invaded his head. Clearly, she remembered at least a few things about him as well and the sore spot that was college to his mother. College was one of the other few times in his life that they had argued. His father finally stepped in and persuaded his mother to give him the opportunity of a lifetime.

“I was better at hockey than studying,” he replied nonchalantly.

A quizzical look fell over her face and she pushed her spoon around in her soup. “Don’t you feel like you might have missed out on it all? You know, the whole college experience?”

“Not for a second do I wish I had done it differently,” he answered without hesitation and a shake of his head. There was an unnatural pause in the conversation and he realized that she was processing his comment. “Now you have to tell me something. I really am curious about the whole dance thing, given that was all you ever talked about when we were kids. I went to your recitals until your mom passed away. Raleigh, I’m not stupid. You loved dance the way I loved hockey.”

He watched carefully as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. He had a feeling that she rarely opened up to anyone… or at least wasn’t honest about it with anyone. So many memories. And he remembered his mother dragging him across the country to see her dance, the way her mother dragged her out to see several of his games. Their mothers were so close, so proud of them as if they were their own kids.

His memories of her dancing didn’t stop there, though. He could remember watching her when she danced. It probably wasn’t normal for him to have paid so close attention to his tiny, dancing neighbor, but he had. His mother had described him as a highly intuitive child, picking up on emotions and slight body language changes. It was one of the reasons he loved hockey so much, the challenge of anticipating where the other player was going to go and what they would do next.

And here Raleigh sat in front of him, her eyes glued to her desk and fingers wrapping slightly tighter around the piece baguette she still hadn’t eaten. Her eyes finally lifted and met his. He tried to reassure her telepathically.

“I –” she sputtered out at first. She let go of the baguette and flattened her palm against the desk. “I don’t – I hurt my knee in high school. I was in a car accident.”

“And that stopped you? You didn’t rehab it or anything?”

She scoffed indignantly. “Of course, I did. Months of pt.”

“But you didn’t go back to it?”

“You don’t understand! It wasn’t just that. I re-injured a couple months into the pt and it took longer to heal. No ballet company was going to want a brand new ballerina with a bad knee. I would spend my whole life being one twist away…” Her voice trailed off.

“So you just…quit?”

“I didn’t ‘just quit’, I just chose a different future.”

There was a silence and she returned to her soup, quietly sipping on it. He debated. She had told him what happened, but she hadn’t told him why. And why was the important question here.

“You were scared,” he stated. Raleigh’s back straightened as she set her soup down.

“I was not,” she responded indigently.

He nodded his head and pointed his spoon at her. “You most definitely were. Look, admitting it won’t change anything, but at least you would be honest with yourself.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she muttered quietly. “Can we pick a new topic? When’s the big day? I saw that giant ring on Julia.”

He chuckled in amusement. There was no sound of jealously in her voice, just an observation. “It’s not giant. It’s only one and a half karats. She just has small hands.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“I don’t know, truthfully. She keeps changing it. I’m happy with whatever she’s happy with, but it doesn’t seem like she’s happy.”

“I’m sorry?” It came out more as a question than a statement. Raleigh wasn’t sure how to respond. In a world where she lived feeling so sure that she didn’t want to be tied down with someone, it was always odd talking to other people about this kind of stuff. She forced the conversation out anyways. “I’m sure she just wants it to be perfect.”

“Well, nothing’s perfect.”

“True.”

“We’ve been together for the last four years. The date doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Of course. But then it leads to an argument.” He blew out a heavy breath. “Okay. Now, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. New subject. So you and Luka?” He playfully asked as he wiggled his eyebrows.

Raleigh rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. I just… I feel so much pressure, you know?”

“Pressure from what? For what?”

“Everyone keeps pushing me. ‘Just give it a try, Raleigh.’ It’s like trying to say no to drugs, except the drug is a really cute guy.”

“Eh…. I’m going to have to disagree on the ‘really cute’ part. I mean, compared to me? Come on! Look at me!”

Raleigh exploded with laughter as he casually gestured to himself. He found himself grinning at her amusement. When she finally stopped, a solemn expression reappeared. “I needed that.”

“I know… Honestly, though, if you don’t want to date him, then don’t.” A look of relief washed over her face. He had a sinking suspicion that he had been the only one to say that to her at this point. “He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. He’s been on and off with Valeriya for so long… it’s just good to see him actually interested in someone new.”

“Who is Valeriya? She called him last week, you know. I saw her name on his phone.”

“She, uh, she’s his ex-girlfriend. He hasn’t told you any of this?” She shook her head. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “They’ve been on and off for like, ten years, or something. From what I understand, she typically dumps him, but they somehow always wind up back together. This time it was different. He dumped her and then came back to the states earlier than he usually does in the summer. She’s pretty famous over in Russia.” He paused, carefully watching her reaction. “She’s like a prima ballerina over there, or something.”

“Oh,” she breathed out softly, her lips forming a small ‘o’. She began nodding. “I see… But… you’re pretty sure that it’s over?”

“I mean, from what I can tell.” He glanced around her office trying to find something to springboard a new conversation. Anything other than their love lives, which clearly sucked for both of them at the moment. His eye caught sight of a picture of a young Raleigh and her mother. Raleigh was wearing a handmade Belle costume and holding a book.

“You were so mad at me that year,” he said, still staring at the picture on the shelf. Her eyes followed his and she smiled.

“You refused to be Prince Adam. We made a deal and you backed out. You already played hockey. You didn’t need to BE a hockey player for Halloween.”

He crossed his arms and shrugged. “Hey, I was a zombie hockey player, thank you very much.”

Raleigh’s head cocked slightly to the side and the corners of her lips tugged upwards. “Oh, how original.”

He leaned back in the chair, lifting his foot and resting it on his knee. “You know, I did realize how mad you were at me.”

A huge grin spread across her face as she began to gather up the trash. “Oh, I know,” she started with out looking at him. “You gave me every one of your Sweetarts without me even asking… plus a few Sour Patch Kids.”

The conversation stuck to childhood topics after that and they spent the next thirty minutes relieving various moments. His phone vibrating in his pocket made him suddenly aware of how much time had passed. When he pulled his phone out of his pocket and saw Julia’s name flashing across the screen, he knew it was time to go. They exchanged a quick goodbye as the phone at her desk began to ring as well.

“I’ll text you later,” he heard her call out as he rounded the corner of her office door. He left the history center that day feeling the best he had felt in months.