Now
It is slight, but she stiffens at the sound of my voice.
I pretend not to notice.
Giving her the benefit of the doubt, I try again.
"Becs?"
And this time the straightening of her spine and the lock of her shoulders is blatantly obvious.
I'm standing in the doorway of her office and its completely immaculate. Organized down to the paperclip.
Efficient, effective. That's Rebecca. She doesn't do anything half assed. She's an achiever. An over achiever if I can be completely honest. But I told her that once and I don't plan on doing that again.
There is so much I want to tell her. But the way we communicate…or rather the way we don't communicate is complicated.
And I don't do complicated.
My life requires control. There are so many variables that are chaos and the small part of my life that I can control, I hold onto desperately. And in order to have control I need simple.
So I go for the easiest way, avoidance. And she lets me.
So we're good.
"I'm sorry to disturb you."
My voice is formal and attempts to sound detached.
It's the only way.
It wasn't always this way, but it is now and I don't know how to change it.
I watch as her shoulders relax slightly and she turns in her seat toward my direction.
She's looking at me now. Scrutinizing me. Analyzing me. It's what she does. And after five years I've accepted it.
And I don't care, because now I see her face and she's beautiful.
Her gaze is fixed on me, her brow furrowed, her nose scrunched slightly. But I see her. I see all of her and it's familiar and its comforting and while things aren't perfect its enough for me.
I survey the immaculate office. It's not much bigger than the old office at the Igloo, but it seems so much larger. I chalk that up to contraption being gone. The big pile of scrap metal didn't make the move. Instead it was replaced with smaller, more modern and efficient technology. Rebecca was the leading force in that change.
Like I said, effective and efficient.
She sits at her desk, partially angled towards me, but her hands still at her keyboard, poised in mid type.
"Hello…" her voice is soft and she seems hesitant about what to say next. Not to mention I cant ignore the flash of terror that crossed her features a split second before she morphed into analytics mode.
"Sidney."
I inwardly cringe at the return in formality, but I push ahead.
"I need to make a change for Chicago." I tell her. I'm leaning against her doorframe, my arms crossed in front of me. And I tell myself that it isn't to keep myself from walking towards her and brushing back the section of hair that has fallen across her forehead and is brushing the tip of her cheekbone.
She hasn't aged much in the past five years. Her hair is shorter, it sits just past her shoulders and the cut is supposed to scream sophisticated business woman, but the stubborn wave and determined softness doesn't quite pull the look off. Her features have sharpened just a bit but other than that, she is the same.
Rebecca looks at me and for the thousandth time I wish I could be in her brain for just a moment, a quick second and see what she sees.
And I would know. Either way, I would know.
"You could send me an email," she says tonelessly.
I sigh, "Yeah I know, I'm sorry, but I thought since its so last minute, I should come to you directly, I need to make an addition."
Her hands drop from the keyboard to her lap and she begins to fidget. And she looks like she's seen a ghost.
My eyes dropped to her hands and she sees me do so and her hands stop.
"An addition?" I think I detect a tremor in her voice, but the exchange so far has been so awkward and uncomfortable that I don't try to figure it out.
"Yeah, Taylor is going to be able to make it after all. She is taking her midterm early, so she can come."
Rebecca just stares at me, "I'm sorry?" She asks and she's looking at my genuinely confused.
And now I'm confused too.
"Taylor, she can come to Chicago. I need a plane ticket for her and a seat with my parents. She'll be in their room at the hotel, so you don't need to change that. I hope it's not too much of a problem." I grin at her trying to lighten the mood and she seems to finally snap out of whatever fog she was in.
"Oh." Is all she says and she's chewing at the inside of her cheek, and I can see the wheels churning. A few moments later, her face clears and she turns her attention to the computer. She starts typing and clicking as the screen becomes animated with windows opening and closing.
"Alright, let me see…" her eyes are scanning and then she's nodding and typing and everything seems to be okay again.
I decide to jump on the opportunity.
"So how've you been?" I ask, a lightness to my voice.
She's focused on her work but answers me, "Fine."
Her answer is curt and doesn't leave me with much to work with.
"How's your dad, how's Molly?" I'm not sure what is wrong with me, but I just want to talk to her.
After Sochi, I just want to talk to her again.
I missed her.
I miss her.
"They're fine." She says briskly.
"Molly is graduating this year, eh? Taylor has decided on Northeastern, what about—"
My question is cut off.
"Ok, she's added." Rebecca's voice cuts into mine and it's as if I wasn't even talking.
"Oh, ok. Great. Thanks, Becs."
She is looking at me again, a mix of worry and irritation. "You shouldn't call me that." She says, but now her voice is unsure, hesitant.
"It's not appropriate." She says, before I can even respond.
"Why?" I ask and suddenly I'm irritated. I'm trying here and I'm getting nothing back. I don't know what else to do.
"Because, we are…" she's struggling for her words, "Work associates." She settles on and seems rather content with her choice of words.
We are strangers. That's what we are.
"Aren't you even going to congratulate me?" I ask her, a clip to my voice.
And then I swear I see it. And I don't understand what it means but I cant ignore it.
She breaks.
I watch whatever resolve she's been struggling to hold onto during this whole conversation, disappear and I see the hurt and the sadness and the regret and suddenly her eyes are moist and she's up and moving and rushing past me in a blur and as her body brushes mine and I can smell her and I can feel her and it sates me.
"Congratulations," she mumbles.
And then she's gone.
Then
His name is Sidney Crosby.
When Rebecca got home that night, she immediately logged onto her computer and educated herself on everything she could about the superstar. Hours later she emerged from a Youtube vortex, feeling a little intimidated and strangely disappointed. She kind of wished she didn't know all that now. It was much easier to indulge the crush in the few minutes where he'd come and saved her from the wrath of Rita. Then she assumed he was out of her league, now she knew he was on a completely different planet from her.
Now she knew more than she was even comfortable with. She worried about the next time she saw him. Would he be able to tell? Would he know that she was now like the rest of them? Another starry eyed fan.
As soon as the thought entered her head, she pushed it out. She was too sensible for that.
Was he nice?
Yes. He seemed to be.
Was he good looking?
Absolutely.
Was he built like a -–
Rebecca shook the thoughts from her mind. Instead she closed the window to the Sidney Crosby show and pulled up her law ethics homework.
The next few weeks were quiet. Claude forgave Rebecca easily for the Rita mishap. He was more concerned that she'd been stuck, than the fact that she'd wasted a package or two of ticketing material. Rebecca had been overwhelmed by his concern and understanding, but she was quickly learning that itwas just his way. He had quickly fallen into a fatherly role with her. Maybe it was the fact that he'd known her dad since they were kids or maybe because he had three girls of his own, whatever the reason, Rebecca found herself more and more comfortable with her surroundings and she had Claude to thank for that.
The team had left for Sweden for a couple weeks. They would start their season there, while the rest of the staff was left to prepare the arena for another season of hockey in Pittsburgh.
Rebecca still felt like a bit of an outsider in it all. She was slowly gaining more and more responsibilities but it seemed like the group, the organization, had been through something together and it had created a bond.
One afternoon Claude explained it all to her. How close they'd been to the championship. How hard the guys had worked only to come up short. It had been heart breaking for everyone, as they all played a part in making this group succeed.
It was hard for Rebecca to wrap her head about that. She'd always been so logical, so disconnected from anything highly emotional. Her dad and Molly bled for their sports teams. They'd cheered and cried together, while Rebecca had just looked on, trying and failing to understand how someone could put so much emotion into just a game.
Of course she hadn't said that to Dad or Molly and now she didn't say it to Claude either.
Time passed and the team was back. She and Claude had been up to their elbows in reservations as they worked on the friends and family visiting schedule for the year.
How it worked was players submitted dates and information about visitors they wanted to have throughout the year. Big games, birthdays, holidays, whatever the reason, the team arranged all the travel specifics. Hotel rooms, flights, tickets to the game. There would be a number of last minute bookings of course, Claude had stressed to Rebecca that everything could change at a moments notice, thus the reason for wacky hours and incredible flexibility. Names and dates crossed their desk but Rebecca and her mentor didn't ask any questions. They just did their job and quickly they were working quite nicely together. Claude was impressed with how quick Rebecca worked, how focused she was and Rebecca was grateful that she was actually making a real contribution and helping in Claude's workload.
On Wednesdays, Rebecca only had classes in the evenings, so she spent the mornings at the arena. It was her favorite day of the week because she got to spend her break watching the Penguins morning skate. Sometimes it was because there was a game that night, sometimes because they were just practicing and sometimes they weren't even there because they'd gone to the practice facility. She didn't know a thing about the sport and watching the practices or morning skates didn't make it any easier to understand. She like watching the speed at which they moved and the bond they all seemed to have with one another. It was fascinating to watch.
Her family would laugh if they could see her. But Rebecca didn't care. Hiding out in the upper deck, she lingered at the entry way, watching the players below. She tried to tell herself it wasn't so she could see him, but even Rebecca couldn't make herself sound convincing.
Her job allowed for her to make periodical trips down to the main level. It was intimidating to be honest. The main level comprised of the locker room, access to the ice, the players lounge and the trainers' offices. Once Rebecca was done putting player packets together, Claude would send her down to deliver the packets to the trainers. The trainers would then put the packets in the players travel bags.
Easy peasy.
The first time she had to do it, Claude came with her. A number of the players were milling about the lounge area, having lunch and freshly showered after their morning practice. Claude had introduced her to the group. Rebecca couldn't help but notice Sidney wasn't there.
On her inaugural visit she met Pascal Dupuis, Maxime Talbot and Evgeni Malkin. She ran their names through her head, hoping she could match their faces to the names she continued to see over and over as she poured over their travel itineraries.
"Boys, this is Rebecca Cooper. Rebecca is my intern for the year. She'll be doing some deliveries and helping me out with a few things, so don't be surprised if you see here around here and please make her feel welcome." Claude's voice was a mix of authority and genuine cordiality.
The guys, who were all huge and intimidating to Rebecca nodded and smiled, welcoming her warmly.
Evgeni, just stared at her for a few moments and Rebecca was beginning to grow uncomfortable.
Suddenly his face lit up. "To get the service that is super, look no further than Cooper. Pay no attention to the rest, our tires are the very best, come to Cooper Tires!" He sang the jingle with a terrible voice and heavy accent.
Rebecca wasn't sure what to do, as she, Claude and the otherplayers stared at the tall Russian.
"You Cooper tires?" Evgeni asked, looking at Rebecca rather intensely.
Suddenly all eyes were on her. "N-n-no." she stammered, completely caught off guard. "No, I'm sorry, I know Cooper tires, but it's a different Cooper. Sorry," she finished lamely.
The player introduced to her as Max, just let out a hearty laugh and clapped his teammate on the back.
"Don't listen to him," he told her, his voice also accented, not as much and this time it was French.
"He's our crazy Russian."
The group began to laugh and Rebecca smiled hoping she wasn't part of the joke.
It was a week later she came down that way again. Claude had filled her arms with packets for the road trip out west that would be happening in a few days. Only on this day there weren't a lot of players around. It was a Saturday evening and the team had player earlier that day. She'd arrived just as the game ended, she'd been two hours short that week due to a number of projects that seemed to come due all at once and this was the only time she could fit it in. Claude of course had been in his office, he'd taken in the game, a loss to Montreal and then headed to his office to tie up a few loose ends. Rebecca had made it through the throngs of people leaving, wishing she'd picked a different day to come in, but her schedule just wouldn't allow it. Disorganized and scatter brained Claude had dumped the folders into Rebecca's hands and instructed her to drop them off in the trainer's office immediately.
She got lost on the way down. The arena wasn't terribly big, but it seemed like a maze to her.
Off the elevator she'd made a few wrong turns and now she had no idea where she was and there was no one around to help her. To any passer by she probably just looked like a lost fan. She wore just jeans and a t-shirt, with her favorite cardigan. It was always freezing in the Igloo, go figure. Her hair was braided down the side of her head and the enormous stack of folders filling her arms hid her staff access pass from view. She looked all around for something, anything that was familiar, but it all looked the same. For a moment she had an irrational thought that she'd be lost here for hours. That Claude would forget she'd come today, he'd been so distracted when she'd arrived. Trying not to panic Rebecca turned around and tried to retrace her steps back, so then she could try again. But it just made things worse as the surrounding became more and more foreign to her. Then, miraculously, she heard the faint sound of voices.
Relief washed over her. Quickening her steps, she followed the sound. But as she got closer, she realized the voices were angry. They were close now, just around the corner she surmised. She halted in her half run and waited for a few moments. She didn't want to interrupt an argument or a private moment. The voices were clear now. One angry, one regretful.
Very carefully she peeked around the corner and saw the two men about thirty feet away. One of the men was Sidney. Rebecca's pulse involuntarily began to quicken. She hadn't seen him since that day in Claude's office over a month ago. Well, that wasn't completely true, she'd seen him during the practices and once on the front office floor coming out of an office with some men in suits. He was leaning back against the wall, still in part of his uniform. His cheeks were deeply flushed and his hair wet with sweat. His face was troubled and Rebecca realized he was the regretful voice in this heated conversation. The other voice belonged to a man a bit older. Stockier, with short graying hair. He was the angry voice in the conversation. Rebecca, knowing she shouldn't, shrunk back into hiding and listened.
"I get it," Sid said weakly to the man in front of him.
"I don't know if you do, son." Troy shot back. "We barely see you all summer, I cant get a hold of you no matter when I call you. Your mother is worried sick. And then when we finally get down here, I see this lackluster performance. Ignoring us so you can prepare is one thing, but you were sloppy out there, what is going on?"
Sid didn't have an answer for his dad. He knew they'd be coming into town for the game and he hadn't made himself available. There were answers he could give Troy, but none of them his father would like and more importantly those answers would just be mean and spiteful and not productive. So he kept his mouth shut as his father continued to rant about his back checking.
Whether he was satisfied with his tongue lashing or just tired of yelling, Troy heaved a heavy sigh.
"Go shower, I'm going to find your mom. We'll grab a bite ok?"
Sid just nodded and gave a quiet, "Ok."
Rebecca heard footsteps, then the man who based on the conversation she now knew was Sidney's dad, came around the corner catching her completely off guard. He looked at her for a moment, his face made of steel, then with his mouth set in a tight line continued out of sight.
Rebecca wasn't sure what to do. She could follow Sidney's dad and hope that he led her back to civilization or she could round the corner and ask Sidney for directions. Although, she had a feeling it would be slightly awkward. Maybe she could offer some words of encouragement. She was no stranger to pressure.
Awkward or not, it was the lesser of the scary options so she tentatively stepped around the corner and saw Sidney, his back still pressed up against the concrete wall, his head bent up staring at the high warehouse type ceiling above him. The heel of hand pressed into his eye as he kicked at the wall behind him.
"Excuse me," she said softly, self conscious that now for the second time interacting with the hockey star she would again be in need of help.
Sid's head whipped in the direction of the voice. At the end of the hall stood a girl, she looked familiar. She was carrying a large stack of something and she had a look on her face. Sid knew that look. He hated that look.
The look of pity. Sympathetic pity.
And he saw red.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" he roared out to the girl.
The look of pity vanished and was replaced with shock.
"I, uh-uh-uh." The girl was stammering and he was too mortified, too humiliated that she had observed the exchange with his father to feel badly. The exchange where he was a pussy and his dad way once again the disappointed parent. He was too embarrassed to offer any sort of slack or understanding.
"You shouldn't be down here!" He stalked towards her. "Who are you? Get out of here!"
He was angry and coming towards her. Rebecca hadn't expected this reaction. He didn't even seem to remember her. And she, couldn't come up with anything to say, her heart hammering in her chest, as he continued to storm towards her.
"I'll call security!" he warned. "Go!"
But she couldn't go. She didn't know where to go. So she just stood there, frozen in shock.
"Did you hear me?" He was only a few feet from her now, his arm outstretched, his finger pointed.
Rebecca tried to say something but she was tongue tied. Instead she pulled at the lanyard buried between the stack of folders and her chest. She pulled at it and the folders began wobble dangerously close to collapsing in front of her.
"I work here." She finally managed to say.
Sidney's cheeks were flaming and his eyes still narrowed at her, his mouth set tight in a frown.
"Well, you don't belong here," his voice not as angry but still clearly irritated.
"I'm sorry," she replied quietly.
She could feel the anger coming off in waves. And he was different, definitely different that who she thought he was. And she knew that she had embarrassed him, eavesdropping on such a private conversation. But his reaction, was so much worse than she thought and she was scared.
She swallowed and rushed out before he could yell at her anymore, "Can you tell me how to get back to the elevators?"
He pointed down the hall behind him, his eyes hard and angry on hers.
"Make a left at the vending machines," he bit out.
She just looked at him for a moment. Wanting in a small way to tell him that it was alright, he didn't have to be embarrassed. But she knew it would make it worse, especially now that she knew who he was and his rank not only on this team but in the sport as a whole.
"Fucking go!" His voice was angry and jerked his finger down the hall, gesturing for her to leave.
Mumbling another apology, Rebecca rushed past him, the folders still wobbling and got out of there.
Sid rubbed at his eyes, ignored the nagging feeling of remorse for his behavior.
And when he turned around to head back to the locker room, she was gone.
***I know Sid seems like kind of an asshole here, but I was trying to convey that he's so embarrassed, so self conscious that someone has witnessed this private moment with his dad, where basically he's getting scolded like a child that he lashes out. As always, thanks for reading and Go Pens!***
