“But Zeedee….” I whined, following him into the arena with my bag. He chuckled and threw his arm around my shoulders. For being brother ad sister we were nothing alike. He was 6’9”, a practical giant in skates and on ice; and was brother to a 5’5” shrimp of a goalie. It was the draft year that broke the ‘boys only’ rule when I was drafted as first pick by the Bruins. Today was trade deadline day. Everyone was calling me up because I was the best in the league. I’d won the Vezina trophy, Jennings and Rodger Crozier Saving Grace Awards. My percentage was .966.
“But nothing, sis. I know you don’t want to be here but it’s probably our last day here. We’ll miss the shit out of you.” he told me as we walked down the all I’d grown to love. I was a Bruin at heart, because Zdeno and I were so close, but he was probably very right. They’d hit cap and they needed me gone to keep under. They needed a new backup for Tim.
“Fine.” I started, pushing open the locker room door and getting jumped by Milan Lucic, Marc Savard and Andrew Ference. They were all so sad to know it was probably my last day here.
“Ahh!” I squeaked, “I love you guys too.”
“I’m gonna miss you, little Chara!” Andrew told me. I smiled and hugged him tight to me. He, along with Lucic, Savard, Krejci, Sobotka, Wideman and Ryder had all practically lived with me since Zeedee had his wife and kids to tend to. I’d dated around, even going so far as to date Sobotka for a while, but nothing had worked out. Tonight was our game vs. the Penguins and I was a little less than unhappy with it. Back to back games with them was murder on a goalie.
“I’ll miss you too, Ferri.” I told him, letting go finally.
“Can I take some shots on the best before she leaves us?” Savy asked me, raising an eyebrow. I nodded and threw on my gear; savoring the moment my Bruins jersey slipped over my head. We skated on and they fired some good shots at me, though only one; put in by Zeedee; made it to the twine.
Quietly, as practice ended, the team gathered around me to murmur goodbye. Everyone knew I’d be leaving, but where I was headed after 3 o’ clock was a mystery. Zdeno took me home and watched some tv with me; mostly Sportscenter, but he changed the channel every time the NHL deadline day came up. He was very touchy about me leaving the team so soon. After all, he’d fought so hard to let me play here and now I was leaving.
Silence fell upon us as my phone rang a message from our GM. Zeedee picked it up and hesitated, then handed it to me. And, as slowly as ever, the message opened.
‘Traded for Brent Johnson and a 1st round pick. Good luck.’
Zdeno looked positively outraged and swore in every single one of the five languages he spoke; mostly in Slavic and Russian but he mixed German, English and Swedish. I sat a hand on his shoulder. I wasn’t exactly thrilled either but a second later I was texted by one Ray Shero, welcoming me to the Pens, promising a 5 million dollar contract and bidding me farewell until tonight.
“I can’t believe you’re really leaving.” he said, looking at me, “Small Cherub, you’re finally out of sight. I’m sad to see you go.”
“I know, Zeedee. I don’t want to leave but that’s life. At least we play you guys a lot. I’ll come home and visit you.” I told him, closing and opening my phone when it ran a number I knew from Miro to belong to Dan Bylsma. The text welcomed me, added to Ray’s and told me to meet the team at the arena tonight so my jersey could be given to me and so I could become familiar with the team.
“I didn’t realize I’d be gone with them tonight.” I told him, looking as sad as I felt. I’d miss the early morning practices with Zdeno; the lunches with Frerence, Sobotka and Tim. The long walks across the beach by myself.
“Yeah, B, you leave the day of.” Zdeno answered, “Come on. I’ll help you pack up your stuff.”
And for the better part of the day we packed my stuff up. I was feeling hurt by leaving now but at least I was living a dream that always seemed so impossible as a child.
I drove my 24th birthday present, a light blue Thunderbird, agonizingly slowly towards the arena where I was meeting my team- my new team. I carried my head low and saw Zeedee, Ference, Sobotka, Tim and Savy waiting outside.
“One last epic march.” Savard said, offering me his arm. I smiled, locking arms with both he and Tim Thomas as we walked into the arena’s underground. They left me, with multiple hugs and kisses, alone with Zdeno. He gave me a huge hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“Good luck, B. You’ll do great.” he said, sounded complacent.
“You’ll do great too, Zeedee.” I told him, patting his cheek. We stood there for a minute without moving and then he picked me up and gave me a hug. I’d miss him so much. We’d almost never been apart. When we’d come here, I’d stayed with him. We’d been together almost constantly since we were children. Since we were born. I smiled and hugged him tighter. He smiled and let go.
“Goodbye, sis.” he said, waving as he disappeared into our locker room- er- my old locker room. I turned and entered the locker room where the Pens were being held. Everyone turned to face me. I saw familiar faces that I’d met during all star breaks and at different Olympic events. Geno Malkin, who’d become a close friend of mine; Sidney Crosby, Maxime Talbot, Jordan Staal. Marc-Andre Fleury, who I’d become back up for, Ruslan Fedotenko. Eric Godard. All of these faces were familiar but I still disliked them. It was the Bruin in me. I smiled to myself and walked in, sitting my things down on the far end of the room where I knew I’d be dressing tonight. Sidney walked to me first, offering me a hand.
“Welcome to the team.” he said happily, seeming excited to see me. I smiled a fake smile and shook his hand, trying my best to be happy about being here.
“Thanks, Crosby-er.. Sidney.” I caught myself just before I gave away the Bruins locker room name for him. Crosby Crybaby. He stood in observance of me, with everyone else, before they slowly went back to their work and got dressed, chatted and did whatever else they felt needed to be done. Sidney stayed near and asked a few questions that seemed run of the mill. Finally, a question I hadn’t seen coming.
“So, do you need a place to stay when you come back with us to Pittsburgh or do you know where you’re going?” he asked, watching me unpacking my stuff out of my bag so I could get dressed. I sighed and stood up, feeling thoughtful. I hadn’t really decided where I was going to stay. I hadn’t even though about it. I was so used to always having a place with Zdeno that I didn’t really think too far off to finding a place to live somewhere away from him. Sidney obviously must have seen the thoughts in my mind.
“I actually don’t have a place to stay. I hadn’t really thought about it much. I was kinda just preparing myself for tonight’s game against… my old team.” I commented, pushing my Bruin’s jersey back into my bag when it came out as I was getting my breezers. Sidney looked thoughtful for a moment afterwards but before he had time to answer about anything I turned with questions of my own. “Hey, I need to go talk to Dan. Where is he before game?”
“Uhm he should be with Dan Potash getting interviewed right now,” Sid checked his watch, “but he should be wrapping up right about….. now.” he estimated, looking back up with a smile. Somehow he didn’t seem as unpleasant as everyone else had made him out to be. I’d met him before, of course, at the Olympics when Zdeno and I had gone out to dinner with the Slovakian team. We’d conversed, casually, and I’d been introduced to his girlfriend Rachael.
“Thanks.” I said before he got a chance to say whatever it was he was going to. I turned and hurried off to where I knew the interview room was. I’d miss knowing where everything was in the arena. All the secret rooms. All the secrets that had been made here.
I ran right into Dan Bylsma as I walked down the hall and he smiled, offering me his hand quickly.
“Welcome to our team.” he said, smiling wider when I smiled back. I felt sort of grateful for finding him. He was so much calmer than Claude and I’d learned, even now, to respect and admire his coaching style. This would be a good working style.
“Thanks.” I said, but before I could even ask anything he was in my head.
“Your jersey is in my office. Come on I’ll go get it for you.” he said, walking away down the hall. I followed diligently, feeling like it was the beginning of something great. But also the end of something else that was wonderful. “So, did Sidney welcome you?”
“Oh, yeah,” I started, trying to get a thought off before he began again but I couldn’t.
“That’s good.” he began, looking thoughtfully over his playbook and the list that had the lines for tonight. “How do you feel about starting on your first day with us against your old team?” I was stunned. Why would he even consider it. But then again, he needed to scope me out. He needed to make sure that even against the team where I’d gotten my start I’d still play just as hard for him. If I made this game count I could end up starting God knows how many other games. This could turn out very well for me. I smiled.
“I’d feel okay about it. It’s just another game against a team I need to beat.” I told him. He nodded, still smirking.
“I like that attitude. I think you’ll fit right in.” he said, handing me my jersey. 27 was plastered to the back since Billy Guerin held my old number and Craig Adams was gone now. I sighed and took it, turning back around and attempting to head out. He stopped me with a clear of his throat.
“If you don’t feel comfortable… changing with us… you can use Ray and Chuck’s office.” he offered. I laughed. I’d changed in the Bruins locker room from the first day. Why should this be any different? I’d been on co-ed teams all my life with boy’s only locker rooms. This was no sweat. Just another group of guys that’d have to get used to me. I didn’t need to get used to them at all.
“It’s fine.” I said, walking out and leaving him to his business.
“You know, you don’t have to change with us if you’re not-” Sidney began. Everyone in the other room was still getting changed and I slid into my place, dropping my jersey on the bench beside where I was standing, not even taking his words into consideration. I made sure all my pads were in order and slid off my shirt, not really noticing when a few stray eyes and curious heads turned. I didn’t care, really. I slid on my gear and then my pants were discarded so I could repeat. Again, wandering eyes and a few whispers. I put on the rest of it and sat down, picking up the mask that had been freshly painted for me this morning. It held Zeedee’s number on the back, right next to mine and our little brother’s; who died early in his life at age 8. The Pensblog Penguin was strewn across the left side and the other side showed a bunch of tallies under the number of shutouts I’d had in minors. It was 104. I was tied with Martin Brodeur for most shutouts ever. My most recent, three days ago when the Bruins had taken on the Rangers.
Marc sat down next to me and sighed, smiling. He patted my padded back and looked excited.
“I admire your style. It’s different than what we see in this league. I think you’ll do well here.” he told me before standing up and walking to see Billy and Chris across the room. I sighed and watched as Sidney sat down next to me.
“It’ll be hard playing them your first game away but also really good.” he assured, “Oh, and by the way. When we get back to Pittsburgh, Eric was going to put you up in his house until you found a place.” I looked around and caught the eyes of Eric Godard, enforcer and resident hard ass. He’d beaten my brother more than once. I hated his fucking guts most days. Great. Housing with my worst enemy.
The numbers were beginning to be called and I lined up in the runway with everyone else, in my place and pensive as I always was before games. Eric tapped me and shook my hand as I slid on my mask. I’d met him many times before because he was a close friend with most of my friends and we had occasionally had a decent conversation but were mostly on opposing sides. He stared down into my eyes through the cage, looking curious, before speaking.
“Uhm- Good luck.” he said, shaking whatever it was off. I sighed and nodded, calming down. The numbers were called and I smiled as my name was read off by the announcer I’d miss more than anything. I ran and jumped to the ice, taking my place in net. I heard everyone screaming in anger. I wasn’t happy about leaving them anymore than they were about me being goalie for the Pittsburgh Penguins.
And it was the same story weeks later when we arrived back in the same arena for another game. I’d settled into my cozy life in Pittsburgh and I called Zdeno so much I thought he may have become annoyed with me at some point, but he never did. Eric and I had sort of reconciled our differences for the sake of housing together but we were nothing more than simply room mates; house mates rather; and it wasn’t looking bright for us to be anything more than simple friends. Occasionally we would watch tv and chat or go out to eat somewhere. But it wasn’t anything spectacular. I think it was just his courtesy.
We began warm ups and everyone shot on me. I still hadn’t gotten my shut out record but I lusted for it like nothing else. And of course, no one from this team could get anything behind me. No one knew me like Zdeno did so they didn’t realize my one weakness. No one did. I’d never had anyone but my family get a puck past me the first time.
The game began in monotony and I stopped shots from everyone on the other team, finally realizing what hell we were to play against. Ferri took a shot on me and hit me square in the chest protector. It stung a little but otherwise I was okay. So far the score to the second was 4-0 and we were putting down the pain. I was so happy that I even began to slide to a beat in the third when ‘Dancing with Myself’ came over the jumbotron for faceoff. I caught that puck too, right in my glove. Too easy.
The clock tick tocked down to about a minute. We were still winning but now it was 4-2 and I was afraid of the extra attacker; Zeedee. Claude knew me well enough to know he was a weakness. He shot on me but time dialed down just as the puck was shot towards me. I knew we’d won and I felt unequaled happiness but the puck smacked my mask, breaking the cage and hitting me right in the forehead. I fell, dizzier than I’d ever been, backwards. I had no control over my limbs or motion in any way. His 105.4 MPH shot had gotten faster over the summer; 106.2; and that puck had just hit me square in the head.
The crowd silenced. My head was spinning as my body came crashing down to the ground. Everyone from the Pens and coaching staff and even the Bruins was on ice and swarming like bees. I heard the crowd on their feet, still hushed, and wondering what had happened to ‘the girl who’d made history‘. Well, history was spinning radically on the stick of my history making brother, who was crouched down beside me.
“Bernadette…. ahhh…..” he said, clearly crying. I knew he’d never forgive himself for that one. I was fading in and out of consciousness so I didn’t catch everything he’d been saying to me. They carried me off on a stretcher and I blacked out to the clapping of the fans, the Penguins and the Bruins, all the coaching staff and the media.
I woke up the next day with the most hairsplitting head ache, a back ache, my neck constricted with muscle pulls and blood still dripping down my face from a cut that had just been cleaned. I was in a hospital, Pittsburgh hospital I assumed, and someone was clutching my hand. I glanced over, expecting to see Zdeno, but instead finding Eric. There were flowers in his lap and it looked like he had intended to put them in a vase but passed out before hand. I smiled at the gesture and sat up, pulling my hand easily out of his. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
I flipped on the tv easily and blinked hard, trying to regain my focus. It was already on Sportscenter so I sat the remote down. They were just now getting to hockey. I smiled and listened to the news about everyone else, closing my eyes since I couldn’t really see.
‘And in more pressing news, Bernadette Chara was hospitalized last night after her brother, Zdeno, crashed the net with a hard shot that registered a later reported 106.2 MPH, and broke her mask’s cage, striking her in her head. Reports that she may be in a coma have surfaced but nothing has been confirmed. Last night when interviewed, Zdeno felt extreme remorse and was found, along with a locker room full of worried team mates, in his stall. The fans reception was about the same. Bernadette had been a loyal Bruin until traded at the deadline and fans there still have a strong attachment to her. Likewise, Pittsburgh fans have grown to love and respect her for her strong style and ability to win games. She has not lost one game started so far in her run and, as of the buzzer last night, holds the record for most shut outs in the NHL, 105. When interviewed, her team said they felt proud of her achievement but were more concerned with her status-’ I heard Eric mumbling and opened one eye. He was blurry but I could see him.
“Concerned. We’re fucking freaking out.” he said. Obviously he hadn’t noticed I was awake. He moved out of his chair and put the now semi-wilting flowers in a vase next to me. He looked over me and his face contorted in worry. Maybe he had become a good friend, a better friend than I’d thought. “Why did this happen you? God, do you really have to worry me like this?” he asked, sitting down and running his hand through his hair. I sighed and thought about talking to him before realizing that I couldn’t.
‘Friend and Teammate Eric Godard has taken indefinite hiatus from the game until Bernie is able to return. She has been staying with him until she finds permanent residence in Pittsburgh. For now, the hockey world is reveling in her 105th win in a shut out. They’re wondering ‘what will she do next?’. Her team is wondering if she’ll ever wake up to enjoy it…’
“She will wake up,” he began, looking uncertainly over at me, “She has to.” And with that I lulled myself back to a somber sleep. I awoke later that night to the sounds of Eric talking with Geno and Sid.
“I just…. What does she…. Is she….?” Eric asked uncertainly. I heard Geno chuckle even then having an accent. They were across the room and still blurry to me. I kept my eyes relatively closed but observed them, using my finely turned and honed hearing.
“She’s not taken.” Geno answered, “Dated Sobotka a while ago. Was… nothing special.”
“Do you think she-” Eric started, looking at me. I made sure to look convincing until he looked away. Sidney- or at least I think it was him- sat a hand on Eric’s shoulder.
“You can’t be sure, but you could find out. Why don’t you just ask her out?” I kept calm though my mind was racing.
“She’s always just so distant and pensive and I never know what she’s thinking. I don’t want to go make a fool of myself to such an…. Impressive girl.” Eric answered calmly, though from living with him I heard the tones of jumpiness in his voice. And though I knew he noticed me, I’d never thought for a second that he liked me that much. I was always just so focused on my game and lusting after that 105th shut out was something that had held my attention. Maybe it was time for something else to take my attention.
“She hasn’t ever done anything that said that she wouldn’t give you a chance. And I know from when I was meeting her that she enjoys the quiet. She likes strategy; being the first to think of something and do it. But she’s just shy until you talk to her. She’ll make you think. It’s really fun.” Sidney complimented. I felt the need to smile but held back.
“Just ask her. Will not bite. And how are you to know if you are not asking. Was same with Melena and I but look where we got.” Geno said, gesturing to his wedding ring. Eric sighed and some how, without thinking, I wanted to comfort him. I almost shot out of bed right there. How had I come to enjoy the company of a man who frequently beat on my brother and liked it?
“Maybe…. If she ever wakes up…” he sighed hard and I couldn’t take it anymore. I let my eyes flutter open to the dimmed room. It was blurry and even laying down I was dizzy, but my voice had returned.
“Did I get hit by a bus….?” I asked, trying to seem as though I wasn’t informed at all. Eric was at my bedside quicker than I’d ever seen him more. Sid and Geno were on his heels.
“My God, you’re awake.” Geno said, kissing my forehead gently; he was the only one brave enough to.
“Awake, but very dizzy.” I commented, sitting up in my bed. Sid sighed.
“He hit you full on with a shot going 106. You’ll be dizzy until tomorrow. Is it blurry?”
“Yeah but it’s getting better…” I assured, blinking when my eyes got clearer. Sid looked at Geno and back to me.
“You just rest up now. I’ll go call Zdeno and tell him you’re alright.” Sid said as they filed out; leaving Eric and I alone. Smooth. Like I couldn’t see through that screen.
Eric sat down and sat his hand beside mine, looking hesitant to take it. I took his up in mine slowly, watching his green blue eyes flicker with light. I sighed when I realized what I’d done.
“Sorry…. The blurriness and being dizzy…. I need to hold on to something stationary so I know where everything is in relation.” and to a point I wasn’t lying to him. I really was dizzy and I really was using him to find relation to other things. Just not relation to things I could physically see. I was trying to make sure that the feelings inside of me weren’t just the nausea from being so dizzy.
“It’s fine.” he replied quickly, wrapping his hand around mine and holding on tight, like he was afraid I’d disappear otherwise.
“So… when is our next game…?” I asked, looking over at him. His jaw fell open and he chuckled in disbelief.
“Tomorrow. But you’re not going. You’re too dizzy and sick. You just got smacked in the head with a-” he began before I pressed a finger to his lips.
“A puck going 106 miles an hour. I heard Sidney the first time.” I told him, dizzily tipping forwards towards him a bit.
“But you’re so-” he began again. I smirked and leaned back against the pillows that were behind me and he seemed to think that meant I’d given up. Not a chance.
“I’m so what? Dizzy? Sick? In poor condition?” I asked, looking over at him, “I play hockey. This is a sport of pain and prestige. I play because I love the game. I took on this game because it was one of the most violent and interesting sports. I will not let this stop me from playing a game that I love. Like it or not I will play tomorrow.”
“You’re stubborn.” he said scornfully, smiling afterwards, “I like that.”
“I’m just me. I can’t be anything more.” I told him. He nodded. We sat in the quiet for a few minutes before I felt his fingers rubbing mine gently. It was soothing. “Hmm?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking.” he said, stopping. I hadn’t meant for that to happen. I looked at him and shook my head, gaining his full undivided attention. “What?”
“Why are you so stiff around me?” I asked, looking him over, “You never hold a conversation with me. Do I offend? Am I not that interesting? What?” He smiled and shook his head, chuckling.
“No no. You’re fine. And really interesting. I just don’t ever have anything that seems important enough to say to you.” he told me, looking a little more relaxed now. We were in the silence of the room for a minute before I laughed and shook my head.
“Just say whatever. I’d love to get to know you. I live in your house for God’s sake.” I whispered quickly, as my voice was fading fast. He laughed and nodded, smiling at me.
“I guess you’re right. Well where do we start?” he asked, glancing at me from under his hair.
I looked down at our hands and then at the ceiling. “Well, I’m Bernadette Chara; 24. Most shut outs in the NHL, 105. Best save percentage, .966. Had a Russian blue named Mischa but Zdeno has her now. Had a little brother named Sergey but he died when I was 16 and Zdeno was 24.” I recalled, looking at him. He hesitated for a minute, being courteous, before chuckling and sitting up. He looked up at the ceiling as if that would help him focus.
“Eric Godard, 29 as of a few days ago. Most major penalties in the NHL this year, 73. Most penalty minutes on the team, 741. Awards for community service. Have a dog named Tonka but he’s with Gonch because I didn’t want him to annoy you. Have three older brothers; Michael, Paul and Chris.” he replied. I smiled, glancing out the window.
“I skate on off days, play my DS for hours, blog about life, write short stories, draw pictures, try to learn new things and cook the best Russian food evar.” I spouted off. He laughed and smirked. This was fun.
“I skate every day, play Pacman for hours, Tetris online until level 99, visit the kids at the children’s hospital, doodle, listen to music and watch the best old horror movies evar.”
“Horror movies? Yes!” I said excitedly, moving too quickly and becoming dizzier. His hand ran down my back until I was steady.
“You want to play twenty questions?” he asked quietly.
“Trick pro quo?” I retorted. His smile widened and I noticed just how sexy he was in the dark.
“Of course.” he answered. I watched him for a moment until he asked a question. “Favorite movie.”
“What kind of movie?” I replied. He looked thoughtful before smiling again.
“Horror.”
“Ohhhh….” I whined, “Hard question. Tie between Dominion, Bram Stroker’s Dracula and Silence of the Lambs. And you, what’s your favorite horror movie?”
“Defiantly House of a 1,000 corpses.”
“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
“Ran into the glass door on the way to the yard, backed up and saw that it was closed, forgot about it and did it again three minutes later.” he laughed, “You?”
“Tried to slide across the kitchen floor and flew right into the door.” He cracked up and I felt my face flush a bit. It continued on until he was the one with the last question. Just as he was about to ask, Sidney and Zdeno burst into the room. Eric’s hand left mine instantaneously and he moved away. It left my heart cold and my head spinning. Zdeno was on me in a minute.
“Oh my God, B, are you okay?” he asked, towering over me and taking my hand. I sighed and felt a little dizziness kicking back in.
“I’m fine, Zeedee. Calm down.” I told him, attempting to sit up but tipping one direction. Fail. He’d never leave now. And I’d been enjoying my Trick Pro Quo with Eric.
“Are you sure? You’re really dizzy I can tell because you’re tipping and-” he started again, fading down into Russian and Slavic with undertones of the worry that he’d always held for me being his little sister. Eric and Sidney waved goodbye behind him as he kept talking and I glanced over in time enough to see Eric smiling at me faintly before leaving with Sid. I sighed and focused on Zdeno and calming him down. He’d been about ready to leave for Boston when Sid had called him. I was happy to see him but he was so worried. I’d just gotten over that with Sidney, Eric and Geno. I didn’t need it from him too. Finally, after hours of calming him down, he decided that I was going to be alright. He kissed my head goodbye, told me to call him if I needed anything, absolutely anything, and left for Boston with Tim Thomas, who had stayed back because they were rooming together on the road.
I sighed and listened to the silence of my room. It was quiet, pensive, peaceful. Too much so. And I sincerely enjoyed the next day as I walked out of the hospital and to my car. I enjoyed it even more when I opened the door to Eric’s house to find him lounging on the couch in his shorts, like he did many times late at night when he thought I wasn’t awake to catch him. He was almost frantic to get up and put on his pants but I just walked by to my room, sitting my things down. I came back to find him in his plaid pants but still hopelessly lost without his shirt.
“How are you feeling?” he asked me when I sat down. I smiled.
“Well enough to play a game of hockey.” I told him. He scolded me with his eyes but they softened as I relaxed into the couch that I’d almost never joined him on. His arms flanked the back of the couch where I was leaning my head and we were closer than we’d ever been and also more comfortable.
“I can’t believe you’re still on about that.” he said, shaking his head as he pressed play on his DVR. I smiled when I noticed he was watching Dominion; a movie until yesterday, he hadn’t known existed. We were quiet for a long time until he looked over at me. “Trick pro quo,” he began before my phone began ringing with ‘Like a Boss’.
I sighed and looked at the text, which read that I should come to game and dress but that Marc would start. I kind of knew they wouldn’t start me my first night back. Eric stood up but I was already back to my room, changing into my clothes for the game. It was in an hour, after all. We drove in relative silence and I dressed in the locker room with everyone, as I had everyday since I’d gotten there. I headed out to the bench and less than enjoyed a three part game that concluded in a tie for overtime. And then, in a fit of thoughtfulness, Dany put me in goal for the extra time.
And thus began our run for playoffs. I played hard every game in, although dizziness occasionally came back to me once and a while. Eric and I grew close as friends and housemates as well as team mates. We worked well together. We went almost everywhere together. We were, to a point, never apart.
It came upon the night we were to play for the Conference championship. A chance to play the winner of the LA Kings and the Red Wings for the Stanley Cup. I sat in the locker room, feeling a little more excited than usual but also a little more sick. Since that head injury from Zdeno, I’d gotten dizzy spells frequently and oftentimes gotten nose bleeds and nausea. Eric sat down next to me as I was taking a rest on my stall’s bench and ran a hand down my back.
“You alright?” he asked with concerned ebbing in his voice. I sighed and rubbed a hand over my eyes. I felt like I was going to be sick. He knew it. He helped me over to the back room where I stood for a moment before practically collapsing down on him. He held my weight and carried me back through the locker room and into the trainer’s room where Dany was meeting with Chuck. My nose began to bleed and I felt my head get light. Chuck helped the bleeding stop and tried to sit me up, get me to walk, but I was unable to go more than a few feet.
“You can’t play tonight. I’m sorry.” he said, calling into the other room to tell Marc he was in game. I was suppose to start. I’d let my team down. I felt like I was going to cry as everyone left the room but Eric. He sighed and pulled me into a hug. He, somehow, made me feel like it was going to be alright.
“I’ll stay with you.” he offered. I didn’t have to say anything for him to know that that was what I wanted. He went to tell Dany, who easily let him go, and then he led me to one of Mario’s press boxes; one that was empty. We sat together in relative silence and he force fed me tissues every time my nose started bleeding again. When the game buzzer sounded for a shoot out after the overtime, I was standing on edge in the box, staring over the ice like a hawk.
“Calm down, you’re going to get dizzy again.” he warned, hand on my back as he watched the game with the same intensity. When Sid, Geno and Billy all put one in the net we jumped together in happiness and hugged tightly. Pulling away from me he sighed, smiling. We’d just beaten my brother’s team for the Conference and I was still so happy. I didn’t understand it. And he was so close to me, I couldn’t have slid a paper between us. “Bernie..?”
“Hmm?” I mumbled attentively, looking up at him with a mixture of dizziness that definitely wasn’t brought on from the nose bleeds.
“Trick pro quo?” he asked quietly. I nodded as much as I could and I knew he’d seen me. He smiled, “Be mine?” I didn’t have time to reply before his lips were crashing down on mine in waves. We moved away from the windows that lead to the ice but never away from each other. All of the things that had happened, all the tension in the house that had been building. It all dissipated in the kisses he was sneaking me now. When we stopped I looked up at him and smiled.
“Eric I-” I began but he stopped me with another kiss.
“Ah Ah Ah. Trick pro quo.” he teased. I laughed. We’d played this game so much since I’d been in the hospital and always he refused to let me speak before I answered. I smiled and kissed him again.
“Yes.” And we fell to the fact that we both knew this was right. It felt right. It was breathtaking when he kissed me again.
Three years later I sat behind the bench with our daughter, Kisa, and our son, Sergey, watching Eric playing hard for the team I was on leave from for maternity. He ran over the bench and kissed me roughly, making Kisa giggle as he tussled her hair and kissed my hand; right over our wedding ring.
