Hold Me Close Tiny Dancer
because
Benny Loves Your Jets
by, Mercer Mercer
Even after two months in Pittsburgh, Michael still felt awkward riding in the car with her father and his family. It had been fourteen years since her parents separated, but Michael spent most of that time with her mother. Dan Bylsma had been absent for most of Michael's childhood, chasing his dream of becoming the next NHL star. Dan always said, if he could find a way to provide for Michael, making the same kind of money as he did in hockey, he would quit in a heartbeat in order to move closer to his daughter. For Michael, that was just another bold statement. In Dan's defense, it had been Michael's mother, Jacquelyn, that moved her daughter to New York City. The distance was always enough to make even Christmas an ordeal to visit.
Michael made the decision to move to Paris when she was fourteen to study Ballet. The thought of not being able to see her father never really crossed her mind. It's not that Michael didn't love him, it was just so normal not to be around him. When the opportunity to dance professionally in Pittsburgh with her old partner Allen was presented to her, it didn't take long for Michael to add her father to the list of reasons to leave Paris. Maybe it was the passing of her former instructor Pierre LaRue, the man that had served as a pseudo Father to Michael over the past four years, or maybe she actually missed her dad, but Michael wanted more than anything to establish the Father-Daughter relationship they never really had.
The giant houses that lined the roads of the Sewickley neighborhoods were getting larger. In the distance, Michael could see what had to be Mario Lemieux's house, decked to the nine's for his annual who's who of Pittsburgh holiday party. Guys were dressed in tuxes, women glamoured in gowns. In an attempt to get to know Mary Beth, Michael's stepmother, a prom like Mother-Daughter shopping trip engulfed Michael's day off during the week. Mary Beth had an eye for shopping and didn't spare an expense for the berry colored strapless gown that accented Michael's auburn hair. Michael looked and felt like a woman for the first time and it showed, especially to Dan.
There had been discussions of a wardrobe change to possibly a coat over Michael's dress. Dan refused to let his eighteen year old daughter step foot in front of a pack of hungry hockey players in that dress. Ultimately, the women won out, and the dress stayed. Michael couldn't understand what the big deal was about the cut being too low. She danced around on stage in barely anything in front of hundreds of people at a time, but Dan was adamant about his daughter not being on display.
Sidney Crosby flashed his best toothy grin and shook the hands of the Pittsburgh A-listers while posing for photo's with their wives. The organization had groomed their Captain well. Sid knew exactly how to handle the high society crowds, even the cougars that would occasionally slip their numbers into the wide palm of his hand. Women were always throwing themselves at him. He couldn't deny cashing in on a few offers, but that's all it was, sex. Sidney never felt comfortable around women. His life had been centered around hockey from the moment he woke to the time he went to bed. He could almost hear his father preaching about there being plenty of time for "that" after hockey.
The night wore on and Sidney had been on display for long enough. He appreciated his fans and tried his hardest to please each of them, but after so long, it became tiring. A few more handshakes and Sid quietly excused himself out the backdoor. The winter night was cold, but not freezing. Sid stood beneath the half full moon and breathed in the silence that settled around him...up until the moment he heard a woman's voice cry out in the night.
"Damn it!" Michael yelled as her stiletto caught between the cobblestone walkway, causing her to stumble to the ground. Michael sat foolishly, in the midst of her gown thinking how stupid she must look. She could dance across a stage on her toes, but walk in high heels, apparently that was a different story.
"Are you o.k.?" A voice called from behind Michael, causing her to scream out in surprise. Michael thought she had been alone. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, I heard you scream and I saw you on the ground." The face of the voice was still hidden behind the shadow of the night, but Michael felt foolish anyways.
"Yes, I'm fine, I just feel a little like an idiot right now." Embarrassed, Michael reluctantly took the hand of the man standing before her, trying to help her off the ground. There was strength in his arm as he pulled her to meet his eye level, revealing the face of the man she knew far too well. Every time Michael checked the Penguins web site, wanting to feel a little closer to her dad, Sidney Crosby's face, more often than not, wallpapered the team's site. She had watched countless interviews of the Captain, talking about the team's wins, and their occasional losses. Even though her dad was the Coach, Michael never thought that she would ever get to meet Sidney. The whole time she had been in Pittsburgh, never once had Dan invited her to the rink. Dan said that was where he worked, and not a place to socialize.
Sidney's eyes met Michael's. He unintentionally paused to reel in the surprise that stood before him. Never in his life had he seen a more beautiful woman. Sidney wanted to take it all in. He wanted to know her, to touch her, to set his lips upon hers. His head was swarming and his heart began to race. He needed to know this woman, but for the first time in his life, he was utterly speechless.
"Um, thank you," Michael said hesitantly as she felt every ounce of her body melting around the giant hand that surrounded hers. Their locking gaze threw surges through Michael's body, leaving her not knowing how to act. After all, how was she supposed to. Her experience with men teetered around her gay dancing partner and her friend from New York that kissed her goodbye before she left for Paris.
"I'm sorry, my name is Sidney," he siad, grinning with a small chuckle, realizing he was still holding Michael's hand. Reluctantly, Sid let go, burying his hand in his pocket.
Michael could feel her face turning red, wanting to kick herself for her ungracefulness in front of him. "I'm sorry, I'm a little embarrassed. I mean, I know who you are, um, that's not what I mean, I mean, my name is Michael." The heat began to rise even farther up her face, and Michael could only close her eyes and smile .
"Are you o.k.?" Sidney wondered why Michael would be walking outside, alone, on the cold night. Was she another crazed fan, crashing the party?
"Yeah, I think my hands are just a little scrapped up." Michael turned them to inspect the damage.
"No, I mean, why are you out here all alone?" Wanting to touch her hand again, Sidney felt his shyness with women overcome him. When there wasn't a chance of a relationship, Sidney was more than capable of talking to a woman, touching a woman. But the second there were feelings involved, he had been taught to jump ship and run the other direction. .
"Oh," Michael said with a sigh, " yes, I'm fine. There are just a lot of people in there and I needed some air." The cold air began to take it's toll on her bare shoulders, causing her teeth to chatter.
"You're freezing!" Sidney exclaimed, taking off his top coat and handing it to Michael.
"I'm fine, I swear. It's not that cold out here," Michael said, but her body shook in protest.
"Please, take my coat. This is how rumour's start. You wouldn't want people to think Sidney Crosby wasn't a gentleman." Sidney couldn't believe his ears. Never in his life had he referred to himself in the third person.
"No, we wouldn't want that." Michael took the jacket, trying desperately not to let her cards show. The intoxicating smell of his scent surrounded her in the warmth of his jacket. "Thanks."
Silence filled the air, riddling both their minds as to what to say next."You know, you really shouldn't be out here. How do you know the Lemieux's?" Sidney wished he could take the foot out of his mouth. Was she going to think he doubted her invitation? Was she going to think he was interrogating her? He felt like a bad version of Top Gun. Max Talbot tried giving him lessons on how to talk to women. Max would take Sid to the bars, introduce him to the next puck bunny, but that was never the same thing as actually trying to get to know someone. The girls at the bars were always drunk and far too willing. One time, Sidney realized he didn't even have to speak. But Michael looked different. She didn't seem like the type that would ask him to take her to his room tonight. She seemed, more innocent than that.
"Oh, um, well , Dan Bylsma is my dad." The moment Michael had been dreading finally came. She didn't want to tell him who she was. She felt like a little kid sitting at the adult table. Michael was 18, legal, and had spent the past four years away from her parents in a foreign country. But Michael had also been sheltered from everything. She had been told what to do all her life. Her schedule had been dictated from sun up to sun down. She didn't know how to talk to boys, let alone men. Sidney was 22, four years older than Michael. To her, she still compared that to a senior dating a freshman.
Sidney continued with his lack of social skills proceeding to say the exact wrong thing again. "You're Dan's daughter?" The look on his face said it all.
"Wow," Michael said softly. "You are confirming the last two hours of my life. I'm pretty sure my father didn't mention my existence to anyone within twenty miles of this party." Michael looked away, feeling the sting of wanting her dad to be more than he was." And that is pretty much why I am out here walking around on my own." Michael realized she was rambling to him and turned in embarrassment. "I'm sorry I just vented that to you, I mean , you don't know me and I don't know you. I, God, geez…um. I'm sorry, it's just, I mean, I have to keep explaining this to people, that I'm his daughter, and I guess, I just never thought I would have to. I just assumed people would know, like he might have mentioned that I was moving to Pittsburgh."
Sidney felt like an ass for making her feel like that. He could see it in her eyes that she was hurt. "No, you misunderstood. I did know Dan had a daughter, and I did know you were coming here, I just assumed you were much younger. He has a picture of the two of you on his desk. I think you are in a ballet outfit. You just looked younger in the photo."
"Oh," Michael shook her head. This conversation was going nowhere. She wanted to run and hide in the nearest hole. "Yeah, I think I know the one. I think it must have been from four or five years ago, when I was fourteen." Michael paused, thinking it would have been nice if her dad kept a recent photo of her, but honestly, that was possibly the last time Michael saw her dad before moving to Pittsburgh.
"Why are you out here, alone, I mean," Michael said, quickly wanting to change the subject.
"I don't know, I just get tired of it every once in a while." Sidney wanted more than anything to impress this girl, but his lack of social skills with women took over. "You know, people get celebrity crazy, and they start throwing themselves at you. It gets old after a while. I just needed a break." If Sidney had a gun, he would have shot himself. He could hear the words coming out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop them. "I mean, they just keep asking for autographs and pictures, and, well you know, I just needed some air. Of course, that sometimes is a bad idea too. We've had some crazy party crashers that have hopped the fence." Sidney wanted to yell at himself to shut up. Michael made him nervous. It took a lot to rattle the Kid, but when he was, he had trouble controlling his mouth.
Michael's impression of Sidney began to sour. What a self-absorbed asshole, she thought. "Well, I'll do you a solid, and I won't ask you for your autograph. So, I guess I should probubly go back inside. Thanks for the jacket." Michael removed Sid's coat and handed it back to him.
"No, please, wear it until you get back inside. Give it to your dad to bring to the rink on Monday." Sid stopped short in his sentence only to reconfirm to himself that he was an ass. This girl was pouring her heart out to him about her dad, and he dismissed her by going on and on about what a big celebrity he was. Sidney could only imagine what she must be thinking.
Michael removed the jacket anyways, and handed it back to Sid. Maybe he wasn't what she had thought of him after all. Maybe he was like all the other super stars. It didn't matter, Michael hadn't planned on seeing him again anyways. "No, that's o.k. Sidney, I will be fine. Besides, isn't that how rumours start? We wouldn't want the world thinking Sidney Crosby gave me his jacket." Michael calmly walked back to the house, wanting so badly to glance behind her just once more, but resisted.